#minor nausea but nothing serious

[floral-hex]

I’m about a week and a half into starting Remeron and my main side effect so far is I’m just so dang sleepy all of the time.

[cno-inbminor]

repertum (pt. 2 - final)

summary: no matter how much you want alhaitham, you don’t think you can ever have him. he may or may not try to prove otherwise. // cameos from lumine and nahida // wc: ~15.1k

a/n: well, here it is! many, many thanks to @allsaiint for being my beta once again, especially for this monster. i love her to the ends of this universe. fair warning though, the smut at the end is un-beta’d so you’ll probably come across many grammatical/syntax errors. sorry, in advance. 

cw: afab!reader, fem!reader, more angst (but with comfort), 3.4 spoilers, probably some incorrect game lore and timing/mechanics, smut (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT)

smut tags: derogatory/degrading terms (slut, cocksleeve, cumslut, cockslut), referring to alhaitham as ‘sir’, size kink, twinges of dacryphilia, one (1) pussy slap, some overstimulation, light bondage (reader’s wrists get tied together), blowjob, cunnilingus, hints of reader entering subspace (dom!alhaitham, sub!reader), will add more if i remember later but i think those are the highlights lol

please read part 1 for context! | AO3 Link for better viewing if the app is being a bitch

-    

As agreed upon you meet Lumine and Paimon on the walkway leading up to the Sanctuary. The traveling duo go inside first, as you’re sure they have much more private and serious matters to discuss. While you wait outside, you gaze over the ledge at the breathtaking view of Sumeru in the direction of the Lokapala Jungle, and its waterfalls still bright even in the darkness of dawn. Taking in everything around you— the breeze and the stars— you feel some peace in your heart knowing you have a place to call home and return to.

The doors swing open with Lumine looking a little less happy than earlier. Paimon mutters – or  at least attempts to – under her breath, while a man with a wide-brimmed hat trails out after them. The traveler provides no explanation,and instead informs you that Lord Kusanali wishes to speak with you for a minute. Perhaps the time together will let you know more about this mysterious man – child? – and why he seems to have put Paimon in such a bad mood.

“Y/N,” the Dendro Archon greets you warmly. Her voice is gentle as ever and full of compassion. “Thank you for coming here. I simply wanted to see if you had everything you needed for your travels and research.”

You show her your bag with thinly-veiled enthusiasm. “Thank you for the opportunity and your consideration of my proposal. The fact that you took the time to read through it and ask me about it really means a lot to me. It was luck that the traveler happened to be heading in that direction as well.”

“She will be a good companion. Please watch over her whenever you can.”

“Of course, though I imagine she’s going to watch over me more than her,” you jest and Lord Kusanali shares your amusement. “Is there anything else you needed?”

“No. May you have safe travels, and please visit whenever you return. I look forward to your findings.”

You bow with as much reverence as possible before waving goodbye to the Archon and heading out the doors. The man from earlier is nowhere to be seen, and Lumine appears more relaxed.

“Everything all good?”

“Yes! Should we head out then?”

“Very well.”

Those with Visions have always fascinated you with the way they could make their weapons appear and disappear, and materialize things in midair. Lumine does so with what appears to be a map of Teyvat, humming to herself as she pinpoints a location. She waves it away with dainty fingers and holds out her hand.

Though confused, you trust she means no ill will and Lumine grips your hand tight when you take hers.

“Teleportation is always a little rough for first timers. Just hold on and you’ll be okay.”

“Teleporta–”

You disappear in a flash of blue light. For a split, disorienting second, you see nothing, and in the next you’re greeted with a view of what appears to be part of the Mawtiyima Forest, if the luminescent treetops are any indication. Slight nausea overcomes you and your stomach does a small turn – shit, she wasn’t lying.

“Are you alright?” Lumine asks with concern, searching through her pack for a remedy..

“Do you want a cold towel?” Paimon adds on and flutters around you to search for any signs of injury.

“I think I just need to breathe for a second,” you say, collapsing against the cliffside. “And sit for a minute.”

“Take your time. We’re quite close to the border. I would’ve taken us straight into Fontaine, but since I’ve never been before, none of those teleport waypoints have been activated.”

You point towards one in front of you. “You mean these?”

“Convenient, right?”

“...very.”

-

Distraught, perhaps, is one way to describe Alhaitham’s current state of mind.

By all means, it makes no sense. Did he get to know you well in an alarmingly short amount of time? Sure. Did he really look forward to those initial 36 hours passing, to the point where he felt time was crawling by at a turtle’s pace? Perhaps. Was he trying to satiate a curiosity that he had never really felt before and attempting to answer a personal unknown? In some way.

The attempting-to-resign Acting Grand Sage has read his fair share of historical texts – especially conflicts driven by love and lust. A force so powerful that it could twist the minds of even the brightest and most logical – what was that like? From a young age, he was only ever introspective in an academic sense, and the scholars touted him to be a genius. But feelings, emotions, felt abstract and out of reach as he grew up. He only ever understood his lust as a byproduct of his development as explained in the textbooks. A branch of psychology mixed with biology described everything from why humans feel attraction and the need to copulate to what is deemed healthy and alluring in a potential partner, all in the name of posterity and evolution.

Alhaitham first concluded his initial draw towards you could be explained away by all of these findings.It didn’t quite fit all the checkboxes, but enough for him to deem it understandable and valid. Those checkboxes had been visited once before when he lost his virginity, but that was all there was to it. He wouldn’t be blind enough to deny that it was a pleasurable experience, but there were other, more pressing matters at hand. Yet, even after drawing his conclusion, nothing academic could help explain why his desire to be near you was so strong. The more carnal desires took a backseat to his need to pick your brain, to make you laugh, or to have you challenge him. He learned as many of your little mannerisms as possible, all the while pretending he was completely unfazed by your presence. Your different smiles, your nervous movements, your stressed looks, your interests and dislikes – he wanted to know all of them, and not so he could store it in his brain for cautionary purposes. It was all for the sake of getting to know you.

And then he became greedy.

Another sin Alhaitham didn’t quite understand before meeting you was the growing, bubbling pit of a constant want want want for you to be by his side. To have the fantasies of coveting your soul, retching on the inside at the mere thought of others seeing you the way he did you – he was starting to see why individuals were so often thrown into a fit of rage over their loved ones and why the law has separate stipulations regarding “crimes of passion.”

And even as he sits at his usual table in his usual seat (especially on days when he really doesn’t want to be in his office during work hours), sending glares to anyone who dared to approach him or even come near your seat (which was very much not your seat by any legal means), he finds himself buried in books of philosophy. Not that they are so far out of his usual reading, for they typically align with his understanding that there are universal questions that will never be answered yet should be stated, but he has never felt the need to dive deeper than the tip of the iceberg on different schools of thought. One line in particular catches his attention, however.

“Reason is, and ought only to be the slave of the passions.”**

Moral philosophy, the area where this statement hails from, was intriguing, yet Alhaitham knew the respected experts could talk in circles for days and do their best to argue their reasoning. This particular philosopher suggests that passion is the cause for reason, for understanding why humans do the things they do. And as the word connotation suggests, there is no room to discuss whether or not this line of thought is rational. Just as passion drives reason, reason can also serve as the breeding ground for the passions.

Abstruse to several, esoteric to many, ambiguous to the masses – Alhaitham wonders if he’s found some sort of solution to his internal dilemmas. To have it all summed up in a single sentence resonates deeply with him. Simple and succinct, yet speaking volumes to the implications; finally with a deep breath.

The next day in his office, he leans and falls back into his seat, gaze focused on the domed ceiling above. He’s always hated this chair; far too grand and impractically large. One thing he doesn’t mind is the proportionate size of the desk, as he’s learned over the years that if you give him the space, he will inadvertently cover every inch of it with his materials. Even with their dwindling number of research applications, he manages to fill the voids with his own research, books laid open and aged parchment collecting dust. For being so far above the ground level of the House of Daena, it makes sense that silence is usually his sole companion, as he tends to ignore the other researchers and matra milling around. But there must have been some memo sent out because no one is there today, and no one has come up in hours.

Surprisingly, he finds the quietude and quiescence unnerving rather than welcoming, so much so he removes his treasured earpieces and places them in his lap. The white noise he’s often found bothersome is… comforting?

A distraction, perhaps, from the absence of you.

A long, heavy sigh leaves his chest as he pulls himself up and ambles over to a locked filing cabinet with all the approved research project applications. Before he became Acting Grand Sage, the remaining applications had been split between him, Lord Kusanali, and a few other individuals. First sorted by subject area and then by last name, he rifles through with an absent mind until he catches your name on a tabbed folder. Alhaitham wastes no time plucking it from the confines of the drawer and opening it, taking care to make sure the stacks of reports and research diagrams don’t spill out onto the floor. Kaveh would have a field day if he knew just how enraptured he was by the mere sight of your handwriting. He may even take him to Lord Kusanali herself for psychological treatment or interrogation because there was no way this Alhaitham was his same sarcastic, scathing, infuriating roommate – and despite the slight amusement the thought gives him, he cannot ignore the painful pull in his chest.

It’s been five weeks since you were last seen in Sumeru, and five weeks since he had knocked on your apartment door only to be greeted by your next-door neighbor, who announced you’d left early in the morning with no definitive time of return and no mention of your destination. You would be back eventually, but would it be in six days or six months? Nobody seemed to be the wiser.

He had had half a mind to reach out to Cyno and call in a special favor to track you down for his own internal peace, but he knew the request would be irrational and unnecessary. So once a week, he stops by your apartment to see if you’ve returned, and with each unsuccessful visit and your doormat collecting more and more dust, his heart sinks just a little bit lower. If he wasn’t in his current position, he’d be halfway across the desert by now (and ultimately in the complete opposite direction) under the guise of searching for ancient ruins. Merely searching for facts and truth; nothing more, nothing less.

All to say, Alhaitham wishes he had looked through this filing drawer earlier because the file on his desk contained all the answers to his questions of your whereabouts.

The relief of knowing you were safe in a nearby nation surges through every vein in his body, tension in his muscles disappearing with the rays of sunlight beating down from the stained-glass window above. He would’ve been much more concerned if you’d gone to Inazuma – even if this Captain Beidou that Lumine spoke highly of was more than adept at crossing the treacherous seas from Liyue, the mere possibility of you falling overboard or being forced to stay in the nation was still unsettling, to say the least.

Leaning his weight onto the desk, Alhaitham drinks in everything your research has to offer. There are a few mistakes and edits that could be rectified here and there, but nevertheless, it is well done. He remembers now seeing some of these papers before, as notes you had been scribbling down on some early afternoons in the cafe. Pleased isn’t enough to describe the hum in his chest when he notices some of his suggestions incorporated into your application, fondly recalling the moments when you had picked each other’s brain regarding the topic at hand. Never once did you mention that any of this had been in preparation for your big research journey, but he would be remiss not to believe recent events had served as the catalyst for your sudden departure.

“Do come back to me,” he murmurs to no one. As he lifts his head, the cosmical, automated orb— reminiscent of an Auspicious Branch— just above the elevator platform seems to mock him. It’s An inaccurate teller of time as it spins and spins in its orbit, and Alhaitham yearns for the day you return home.--

The day you return to him.

-

Traveling with Lumine is fascinating, to say the least.

Ignoring the fact that feeding Paimon is like feeding three grown adults, watching the Traveler gather and store every fruit and herb and loot in sight makes you wonder what kind of life she had led before all of this. The way she takes down some wayward Treasure Hoarders is a sight to see, like a well-rehearsed dance. It lends to your understanding of why the term is “martial arts” because the way Lumine maneuvers around the enemies and her sword is, very much so, an art.

But more time together means more time into probing the real reason you’ve decided to come to Fontaine with her, and for whatever reason, she is really good at getting you to spill the beans. Lumine’s heard most of your life story at this point.

“Who are you running from?” she asks one night. After checking in with the Adventurer’s Guild in Fontaine’s capital, you’ve joined Lumine in her journey around the nation to activate the rest of the teleport waypoints. You send her your sheepest look, begging with your eyes for her to not ask anymore. But you’ve skirted around this topic the last few weeks and you figure it’s time for her to know.

With a heavy breath, you set down your bowl of biryani on the grass. “Promise you won’t judge?”

“Promise.”

“...it’s Alhaitham.” The crackling of the little campfire Lumine had put together is deafening, even louder than the ripples and waves of the river crashing onto the sand in front of them.

Naturally, Paimon speaks up first, though speaking is an understatement.  “Alhaitham?! You mean that– that super mean Acting Grand Sage? The know-it-all? Can’t really care less about others? Condescending?”

“That’s a pretty big word there, Paimon–” Lumine cuts in.

“Hey!”  

“See?” you respond, the smile on your face small, awkward, and bittersweet. “Things happened and well… I thought it’d be better if we stopped seeing each other.”

“You were seeing each other?!!”

“Paimon, stop!” Lumine interjects and shoots the floating fairy a disapproving glare.

You really wish you had some alcohol with you right now.

“Well…”

For the next several minutes, you provide a detailed summary of how you came to meet and learn more about Alhaitham, the nature of the budding relationship, how all your insecurities came to a head on that night, and how you ended up here. Lumine remains silent when you finish explaining everything, clearly thinking through all the information and trying to find the right words to say.

“You know,” she begins, “Alhaitham may be one of the most infuriatingly logical men that I’ve ever met. And a really good actor, too. Remind me to tell you the details of what he did when we rescued Nahida.”

“...I don’t think that makes me feel any better.”

“I’m just saying, but I also think you know by now that Alhaitham isn’t someone who does anything that isn’t for his own benefit, in some way.”

“Again, not helping.”

“What I’m trying to say is if he just wanted to get his dick wet, I’m sure there are plenty of other people who would agree to help out in much less time.”

To which, Lumine has a point. A very good point. But still you say, “He’s super picky though, I don’t think he’d just sleep with anyone regardless.”

“Which brings me to my original point: he picked you for a reason.”

“Because I’m easy?”

Lumine flicks your forehead before you can even blink, and with a decent amount of force as well. Your resulting indignant yelp pierces the atmosphere as you rub the sore spot. “What was that for?!”

“For being unreasonable. I’m trying to say that you must be special to him, that’s all.”

“... but what if he didn’t want to see me again after sleeping together? Sure, let’s say that I am ‘special’, heavy emphasis on my air quotes right now, but I want more, an actual relationship. How do I know that’s also what his end goal is?”  

“You don’t,” Lumine affirms. “But there’s no use in wading through the what-ifs. You know what you want, and I think you’re allowed to communicate that to him, regardless of what he says.”

It’s hard to come to terms with the underlying implication that you’re being something of a coward, with not a whole lot of reason to be. You’re grateful for the open water before you, its lullaby comforting with the breeze it brings. Years of academic research have made you painfully familiar with the concept of trial and error, but to apply it to human relationships? It leaves much to be undesired. Five weeks, in the grand scheme of things, are certainly nothing more than a miniscule blip of time. But in your limited life with the overhanging unknowns of the world, it was a sizable enough amount of time filled with passive rumination and downward spirals.

“You’ll figure it out when you get there. But I’m warning you, we’ve still got a lot of ground to cover.”

You can’t help but laugh in relief. “That is completely okay, I promise you.”

Running away might as well be your newly developed skill at this point.

-

A few weeks later

“I mean, I could stay with you there in Fontaine, right? You know, extra set of hands and all?”

“You’re not getting out of this.”

“Lumiiinneee,” you whine, petulant pout making itself known.

“Just talk to him – whatever happens, happens. If it’s not meant to be, then it’s not meant to be. But you owe it to yourself to say your piece, as well as to him for an explanation that he needs to hear. Now go.”

She all but (gently) shoves you into the Akademiya, watching over you with an encouraging wave of her hand. When you’re less than five steps away from the door into the House of Daena, you look over your shoulder once more for any signs of escape. As expected, the Lumine-shaped obstacle stands firm in her spot.

You clutch your final report to your chest, mind racing with a thousand thoughts per second, and don’t even realize you’ve already made it to the elevator platform. And once it gives a mechanical shudder and starts to go up, you want to scream and simultaneously steal a glider to jump off and land safely back on the ground level.

Is it good or bad luck that no one seems to be around? Maybe he won’t be at his desk and you can just leave the report there and fucking bolt. Maybe it’s not even Alhaitham in the Grand Sage’s chair. Maybe the man is gone altogether and is somewhere in the desert looking at ancient runes.

Maybe he just doesn’t care anymore and has forgotten about you. Maybe he told himself to let bygones be bygones, and that you were simply another scholar in the Akademiya. No one special.

Your initial hopes of his coincidental absence are dashed as you walk up the stairs. His silver hair stands out among the sea of azure and viridian, and he doesn’t even bother to look up from the stack of papers in his hand. Not that you were a bull in a china shop by any means, but the man would even notice with his eyes closed if there was a fly on the complete opposite side of the office. Your heart is ready to burst from your chest with each shaky step, and too soon, you stand in front of his sprawling desk.

“My office hours will be ending in a few minutes,” he states in a matter-of-fact tone without looking at you. You risk a sharp inhale at the sound of his voice, an all too familiar mix of gentility and sternness. “If it’s something that requires more than that length of time, come back tomorrow.”

Fuck fuck fuck fuck – “I’m just, um, turning in a research report?”

At the sound of your voice, Alhaitham doesn’t even bother to amuse himself. He’d much rather not look and not be disappointed, than to do so and become reacquainted with dashed hopes. “...And the necessary cover sheet is on top? Does it have your name, project number, and corresponding title?”

“Y-Yes.”

Still perusing through the paperwork in his hands, he frees one hand to point it at a basket on his far-right corner. “Leave it there. Your advisors and I will be reviewing it within the next two weeks.”

“Oh, o-okay.”

You do as instructed, but with each second that passes without any eye contact or direct acknowledgement of your presence, you begin to wonder if he’s purposely ignoring you. Or maybe he forgot about you entirely and wrote you off as a failed pursuit. Perhaps that would be the best-case scenario and you could hole up in your apartment for the rest of… eternity. Maybe. Lumine can come and scold you later and you can take it like a champ.

But your heart, ever so fickle and occasionally diabolical, plays one last card and causes you to stop at the top of the stairs. “Have a good night,” you muster out. “Thank you, Alhaitham.”

The rustling of his papers ceases as you turn and hurry down the steps, taking extra care to not trip over your feet. Just before you can activate the elevator, a frazzled “Y/N?” is called from above. With sweaty hands, a sullen heart, and a leadened brain, you nervously orient towards the scholar inhabiting your dreams, who stands on the edge of the platform above and peers down to confirm his suspicion. His stance looks as if he had leapt over his desk and sprinted at top speed towards you.

You’re not sure how to take it all in, how to take him in – the “feeble scholar”, for once, appears as such. If possible, his cheeks seem a little more sunken in, further accentuating the sharp edges of his jawline. His hair looks mussed, as if he’d run his hands through it several times too many. The cloak around his shoulders rests askew from his sudden movements.

But his eyes—

Those seafoam irises and amber pupils pierce through your soul, but not in an inquisitive and calculating manner. In fact, it’s quite the opposite – he looks unsure, disbelieving, and hesitant. To elicit such a reaction from this man should be recorded in the most prominent historical annals, but you do have to admit it’s a bad look on him.

When you open your mouth to say something, anything, the elevator begins its descent. Any words you had are wiped from your mind, and you do everything you can to maintain this staredown. Weeks ago, you couldn’t even begin to guess what this man would be feeling based on his eyes, but now? His heart is on his sleeve, and you can’t help the green envy in your veins at the possibility that others have seen him in such a vulnerable state.The constant battle between an illusional desire to be his everything and knowing that you never could and never should be, rages on.

You’re the first to look away. Sorry, Lumine, you think, as Alhaitham’s figure disappears from view. All you’re left with is the rotating orb above, spinning and spinning until it makes you sick to your stomach. You just want to get back to your apartment and start sweeping the dirt away, to return to some sense of normalcy before all of… this appeared. You never should’ve indulged in your whimsical desires.

-

Alhaitham hovers in a state of shock as he watches the elevator take you back down – after weeks of catching a glimpse of who he thinks is you at the cafe, hearing your voice in his head as he scribbles away on paperwork, or dreaming of escaping his duties to find you in Fontaine, he’s not sure if he really believes you were here or if it was some effective lucid dreaming. But the sudden pull, the impulsive need to just check the cover sheet when his name left your lips, was far too strong and he had dived right in without a second thought.

And there in your handwriting, in all its glory, was your name printed neatly at the bottom. One second, he was at his desk and the next, he was at the edge of the outer office ring for confirmation.

The last few minutes of his workday have never gone slower as he paces back and forth in front of his desk. He’s doing his best to stay calm and formulate a plan, but even that has become difficult for him. There are too many extraneous factors at play, several he can’t be sure of – did you meet someone new in Fontaine? Were you going to leave again?

Did you even want to see him?

You could’ve left without another word once your research paper landed in that return basket. He would’ve been none the wiser until he physically picked up the report, which probably wouldn’t have happened for another few days, what with all the cleaning up he’s trying to do before his resignation is official. All that lost time in between would have left him even more distraught.

But the fact that you had stopped and made a point to thank him, to call him out by name, means something. Like him, it seems you are just as unsure of where the two of you stand.

And that’s all he needs to move forward.

-

Granted, moving forward didn’t initially involve climbing up the fire escape ladder behind your apartment building.

With a takeout bag of your favorite foods from Lambad’s Tavern, he was originally going to knock on your front door like any other individual. But before his knuckles could rap against the Adhigama wood, he thought, why not check to see if you’re even home? That would eliminate the possibility of you seeing him through the peephole and then pretending you’re not home – or worse, you opening it and then slamming it back in his face.

His unparalleled logic led him to skip the ladder and jump onto the first floor. It’s not that he wouldn’t be able to climb it with one free hand – the food would’ve gotten messy with all the jostling around. He ignores the sound of laughing children as he ambles past, but allows the semblance of a grin to dawn his face when he hears, “Whoa, look at that mister!” Alhaitham looks above him as he climbs the next set of stairs, noticing a light peeking through the living room window. That’s one good sign, at least, because it means you’re home, right? He peers past the half-open curtains when he arrives at your floor. He’s just checking. Nothing suspicious or untoward. Yet all of that is scrapped— another deviation from his initial plan— when he sees you sitting on your couch, sorting through a pile of mail on your coffee table. With a mind of their own, his knuckles knock lightly against the glass and he can’t help but let a humorous snort slip out when your body jerked with a visceral startle, head whipping towards the source of your adrenaline spike.

You don’t need to verbally question his sudden appearance when it’s written all over your face.  Your eyebrows are knitted and arched, mouth turned down in a slight frown, hands clenched in fists with visible tension and unease. “Alhaitham, what– I mean–”

He holds up the food behind the windowpane for you to see. “I wanted to bring you dinner since you probably don’t have anything prepared on your first night back.”

Without another word, you slide open the window, letting him clamber through as you take the bag from him. He retrieves it as you lock the window and yank the curtains together, setting it on the table away from a mound of what he presumes to be junk mail. You scramble for words and coherency as you search for clean plates and utensils, but the effort is fruitless. There’s a trapped shriek in your chest and you don’t know how to snuff it out.

Dinner is a quiet affair, save for some awkward small talk here and there. He makes it a point to give you extras, whether it be a little more mint cilantro or tamarind chutney for the samosas (despite it being his favorite) or more of the lamb from the biryani. Each little morsel pushes your heart further up your throat, further sending you into a downward spiral. Why is he so kind and caring when you had essentially kicked him out last time? Why is he going out of his way to make up for a wrong he never committed?

Alhaitham basks in your company, taking in every detail of your outward appearance. You seem skinnier than before, hair just a little bit longer. A few fresh, healing cuts on your hand stand out to him and he hopes they were all accidental and not intentionally created by another human being. There’s so much he wants to say and question, but for once he cannot find the right words. Rarely has he ever felt as though he was skating on paper-thin ice with someone – years of not caring or sparing thoughts for how others might perceive him lends nothing to resolve his state of incertitude. So the only way he can currently try to communicate is through actions, hence the extra foods and your favorite parts of them, making sure you have a usable napkin at all times, refilling your cup of water when it starts to look low, and more.

With a full belly, you sigh with satisfaction, a breath that appeases Alhaitham just the slightest bit. “That was good. Thank you for bringing it.”

“You’re welcome. Was the food in Fontaine not to your taste?”

You hum in thought. “A bit bland, honestly. Not as many spices are used in their foods like they are here.”

“Ah.”

The two of you sit silently for a few moments. You’re looking anywhere and at anything but him, your knee bouncing and hands wringing together. Is he trying to let you down easy? Soften the blow? What is his end goal?

His fingers tap the table in a silent rhythm, noticing that despite the small talk, the tension in the air is still viscous. He ignores the gnawing desire to hold your hand and squeeze it tight, to graze his thumb over those scabs and kiss them. He’s not ready to leave yet, which is why he juts his chin towards the only unopened bag on the table and says, “I also brought dessert. Would you care to have some now?”

No. Yes. I don’t know. I can think of something else I want for dessert but that’s not the point right now, is what runs through your head.

“Sure. What is it? I might have something to go with it.”

“It’s baklava.”

For him to remember that baklava from Pupusa Cafe is your preferred dessert when eating your favorite dishes is even more mind-boggling in this whole situation.

You stand on shaky legs and walk towards the pantry. “Does wine sound okay?”

Alhaitham ponders your last mutual experience with alcohol, which had ended in a disaster, even if he knew full well that it wasn’t a cause by any means; an unintended catalyst. As long as neither overindulged, it would be harmless. Right?

So he nods. “That sounds good.”

You return with a corkscrew opener, two stemless wine glasses, and one of your better bottles of aged wine. Alhaitham remains silent as he takes the opener from you and drives it into the cork, hand twisting the top knob with ease. You feel shameless in the way you stare at his arms, watching his muscles flex. The veins in his hand become more visible and you can see the tension in his forearm through his arm guards, all the more when he pushes the levers closed and wiggles the cork out of its confines. He takes good care to tactfully remove the cork and place it on the table, and pours a glass for you first.

“Thank you,” you murmur as you take it from him with both hands, ignoring the way his fingers seem to linger after making contact with yours. You portion out the baklava as he pours a glass for himself and he voices his gratitude in turn.    

As you nibble on the delicacy, the silence weighs heavily on your chest, both a burden and a source of comfort. “Did you find everything you needed in Fontaine for your research?” he asks, once again attempting to make some neutral conversation. Alhaitham has never been one for sweets, but he’s willing to eat it for and with you. The cafe’s baklava is one of few desserts he can handle, as it’s not as sickeningly sweet as some other places’ when they’ve added too much syrup.

You chew slowly as you think of your answer. “I think so. I feel pretty good about my report.”

“I’ll be sure to read it soon,” he responds. After all, he is a pretty quick reader, and with the dwindling number of research project applications, he can efficiently get through the other reports to make sure he reviews yours before he goes back to being the Scribe.

“You know, there’s no need to rush on my account,” you say. Honestly, that’s the last thing you need because it would confirm your worst fears and assumptions. Everything discussed with Lumine would’ve been tossed violently out the window, and you so badly don’t want it to manifest.

“...I won’t,” he assures you. Alhaitham understands your research paper needs to be treated like every other one passing through the Akademiya, especially if he is going to be one of the formal reviewers.

You feel your lungs losing air, your heart rate soaring through the roof. With a stroke of luck, your glasses of wine are finished off and the plates hold nothing but crumbs, which provides a perfect excuse for you to get up and get away.

“I’m gonna wash the dishes,” you announce, voice doing little to hide how nervous and shaky you’re feeling. It’s another miracle that you don’t drop anything on the trek from the dining table to the sink as you wonder if you’ve killed any chance of being with Alhaitham. Where was the confidence you possessed when you first met the man?

Even being mere meters away from him becomes painful. His presence alone provides a sense of security, strong and silent. The lack of warmth, the string between you two pulled taut, ignites an obdurate yearning – the very same yearning experienced when you spent days avoiding the man prior to your departure for Fontaine. Distance makes the heart grow fonder, as they all say, and there certainly was some merit to it.

The silence remains suffocating, in some ways, but also comforts you with its deep pressure, distracting you enough that you fail to notice Alhaitham moving around. He removes his cloak and earpieces, draping them neatly over the couch armrest before he comes to stand next to you at the sink. He grabs a towel and is ready to dry when you’re done washing the dishes. Your muscles begin to relax, that earlier frost of loneliness gradually dissipating with his presence nearby. He dries everything with the utmost care and lines them up neatly as you hand them over, and you ignore the little brushes of his fingers against yours with each relinquished plate. You can’t help but wonder if he can feel the heat emanating from your cheeks because honestly, you feel like your face is on fire.

Alhaitham finishes drying off the last item – the second stemless wine glass – and turns to lean his back against the counter with his arms crossed in front of his chest. He waits as you rinse down the sink and passes you the towel to dry off your hands. Your timid smile leaves him hopeful that you’re not visibly shying away from him— not visibly, at least. Seconds pass, and now there is nothing left for you to do or keep yourself busy. He waits for you to gather your bearings and settle to show that you’re ready to talk about… whatever this is.

Those haunting irises suddenly meet his with an alarming amount of determination, holding steadfast and searching his for something, anything. He can’t bear to lose and look away, not that he wants to. Yet you remain quiet, and Alhaitham leans into his impulses.

With firm, sure hands, he pulls you toward his original spot and lifts you up just enough so that you’re sitting on the counter. Alhaitham plants them by your waist and bends down to be level with your gaze, which now holds hints of fear and surprise. They’re open wide, your pupils slowly dilating, and he catches a glimpse of your fingers curling around the edges of the counter. He so badly wants to cradle your face in his hands, to feel your physical presence and prove to himself that you’re really here before him. But that is intimacy he hasn’t quite been granted yet and he can’t mess this up. He must’ve done something wrong the last time he was here, and he most certainly doesn’t want to risk the same outcome again.

“I like you,” he proclaims with a resolute tone. Alhaitham has always hated beating around the bush when unnecessary, and at this point he needs it said out loud for you to know. “I have been attracted to you since the moment we met, and I used to believe that it was purely a biological response. But then I wanted to know more about you. I wanted to learn more about who you are and how your mind works. To be quite honest, I can’t stand the thought of anyone else being in my position right now. I will not hide the fact that I am selfish and want you all for myself, if you would have me.”

You are struggling so hard to keep the smile off your face, your mouth pursing while your teeth dig into the inside of your bottom lip. Three months ago, you would never have seen this coming, and you would have laughed in anyone’s face if they had suggested it.

“If you need time, I can wait. I am not always the most patient person, but for you, I am willing to do so. And–”

“I was worried that you wouldn’t want to see me again after having sex,” you interject and confess. The embarrassment of your thoughts and actions quickly becomes a heavy weight in your chest. Your nerves strain to get the better of you and shut you down before saying more, but you force yourself to push past them. Alhaitham provided you with honesty and transparency, and he deserves the same from you. “We had so much tension between us and I was worried that once it was all resolved, you wouldn’t feel the need to see me again.”

Alhaitham takes a moment to process your words, but he can still see the tension in your shoulders. You won’t meet his gaze as you look past him or at other parts of his body. “There’s something else, is there not?”

You look down at your hands in your lap, your fingers intertwined and fingertips applying pressure where they land. With how forthcoming he has been, you owe it to him to extend the same courtesy, despite how silly it feels now.

“I couldn’t understand why you would even like me,” you say, voice soft and barely audible in the silence. You’re unable to mask the melancholy in your tone when you remember how it felt to internally question his affections and assume the worst. A quiet chuckle slips past your lips, but it’s derisive and bittersweet. “I’m just another scholar and you— you were the Scribe and later Acting Grand Sage. I thought maybe people would accuse me of… providing sexual favors, to put it lightly, if you showed me any leniency or favoritism in my academic career.”

The back of your knuckles brush against his cheek as you lift your head up to take him in. “You could have anyone in the world and you deserve nothing but the best. So why me?”

“I would need a few all-nighters and several pieces of paper to pen down every reason why.”

His quick reasoning with all indicators of certainty – his tone, the lack of any dishonesty in his eyes, the way he holds your eye contact – takes you for a loop. You’re only able to let out a soft “oh” as you let the implications of his words swim in your brain, leaving you helpless to find a suitable response. How do you follow up on an answer like that?

When he feels your fingers slipping down his jawline, he stops it with his own to press his cheek into your palm. “If it provides you any comfort, I will no longer be the Acting Grand Sage by next week. You know how long I’ve waited for them to process and approve of my resignation. And as the Scribe… it still does not matter. People who would assume something so salacious are simply capitalizing on their own insecurities, and they do not deserve a second of your time or an ounce of room in your thoughts. I do my best to exercise fairness and reason in all matters for the Akademiya, and even as my partner you would not be safe from that.

“I’ve never shied away from telling you how things are and you know this. I can ensure you would not earn any favoritism or leniency within the boundaries of the Akademiya, should my presence be involved in your research.”

The smirk that creeps up at the corner of his lips ignites a small flame in your belly – thrill and heat and trepidation all melding together. “Now, outside of those boundaries, it’s a different matter. If I may pry once more, what is your answer?”

Liquid fire pumps from your heart and into your veins, further fueling the heat in your core. Just as it dips dangerously lower, so does your hand, and the other joins in lightly scraping your nails down his abdomen. You feel him jump beneath your touch and relish in the sound of his swallow, and how his breath hitches when your fingertips dip into the band of his pants. They tug him forward until he’s standing between your thighs, just centimeters of nothingness between you two. Even as close as he is, Alhaitham can’t help but think there’s still too much space unoccupied.

Your eyes scream, beseeching him to understand your actions and for him to respond in kind. It can only mean one thing, but he wants to hear those words. He wants it engraved in his memories for the rest of time, despite the desperation to give in and give you both what you desire and need. Alhaitham grasps your chin between his thumb and curled index finger, leaning forward closer and closer until his lips barely touch yours.

“Use your words.”

Arousal seeps through your underwear as the subdued tenor of his voice sends shivers down your spine. Wholly unfair, this man is. Devilish, demanding, teasing, controlling – but most of all, he is yours.

“Please let me have you, if you will have me,” you whisper against his lips, eyelashes fluttering closed at the faint touch.

No sooner when you are greeted by darkness does he fully slot his mouth against yours, hands gripping tightly on your hips to pull you against him. A groan slips past and into you because gods, he’s missed this so much. After nights of waking up with the ghost of your kisses, he never wants this to end and longs for a reality where time can stop and he can take his sweet, sweet time to worship every millimeter of your body with his lips, and then some. Excitement electrifies his whole body when you reciprocate his desire ounce for ounce, and even more so when you let out a pretty little whine, just for him.

When he pulls back for a chance to breathe, he doesn’t move far. “Good girl,” he praises so sweetly, the words washing over you in something akin to pride for eliciting his approval and pleasing him. Alhaitham slides the tip of his nose against yours, moving to kiss your forehead, then your cheeks, your jawline, and the pulse point on your neck. Even the slightest pressure has you tilting your head to the side, granting him permission and room to do as he pleases. Alhaitham bides his time to press whispers of kisses onto your skin until he nips a sensitive spot. A sharp inhale pierces through the kitchen when he sucks on the patch of skin caught between his teeth, taking the utmost care to break the little capillaries underneath. He wants you to experience his phantom touches on these spots in the hours when he’s away from you, a constant reminder that you are his and his alone.

Your fingers dig into Alhaitham’s silver locks, torn between pressing him further into your neck and pulling him away. “Haitham,” you plead and tug on his strands, which only prompts an even harsher abrasion from him. “Wanna kiss you.” Your voice is breathy, and you feel as if you’re on the verge of tears. Who is he to deny such a reasonable request?

Though instead, he pulls you off the counter and rushes to your bedroom with you in tow, granting your wish as soon as you enter. The back of his knees hit the foot of your bed and Alhaitham drags you with him when he sits on top of your blankets. Despite your eagerness to clamber over and straddle him, he disapproves when you attempt to exercise a modicum of control over the situation by leveraging some height over him, utilizing gravity to lean into his embrace and kisses. His palms slide up your thighs with reverence until they dig into the crevice of your hips and yank them down. To have you pressed fully against him is most certainly a blessing, and there’s no way you don’t feel his growing arousal against yours.

When he feels his bottom lip stuck between your teeth, Alhaitham smiles. It still seems you’re not fully understanding the position you’re in. Perhaps, he might need to remind you of just who exactly is succumbing to who.

You keen when his hands dip underneath your shirt to draw meaningless patterns into your waist, but also to make his mark as he holds tight enough that you think you would feel some internal bruising tomorrow. They dance higher and higher, until they meet the bottom seam of your bra, and you nearly choke with the arousal suffocating your lungs.

“Can I?” Alhaitham almost begs, but watches for any sign of hesitation.

“Yes,” you breathe back. You lift your arms up, waiting with thinning patience, and he wastes no time in following through, tossing the shirt to the side with one hand as the other busies to unhook the metal clasp of your bra. Soon enough, your upper body is bare for him to see, to touch, to love – and his breath is taken away because you are so, so beautiful; perfect breasts with hardened nipples, an empty canvas all for him. He made a mistake last time for not seeing them properly, having been too focused on the way they felt against his chest instead.

“Fuck me,” he murmurs. His subsequent scoff feels derisive, sardonic, self-destructive, and his thumbs ghost over your areolas. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous – this is unfair.”

“You’re the one who’s unfair,” you retaliate with a shaky breath as you nearly tear off his shirt. One look at his muscular and toned frame, and it takes everything to stop the drool from spilling past your lips. “Have you looked in the mirror lately?”

“Be careful,” he warns, his fingers digging into the flesh just underneath your breasts. Alhaitham holds onto you as he scoots further back onto the bed, and once he deems there’s enough room, he rolls over until he’s hovering above you, panting and hair splayed and lips swollen. “I’m just a feeble scholar.”

When you roll your eyes with an excessive amount of sass, he dips down to capture your right nipple in his mouth and gives a harsh suck as punishment, satisfied when all defiance on your face morphs into pleasure. Pretty, responsive, little angel, all for him, so sweet, so delicate, so adorable when your spine arches into his mouth and continues to suspend itself as he pays his respects to your other breast. You feel your conscience become fuzzier and fuzzier, dissolving into mush as the tendrils of overstimulation begin to grow, and once again, you find yourself torn between wanting to let him continue and wanting him to stop.

He decides to grant you some mercy when you can’t help but twitch and shy away. Alhaitham’s primal desires begin to crest and wash away any rationale, desperate to keep the taste and feel of your skin between his lips and on his tongue. He doesn’t quite understand this newfound desire to nip and bite, but all he knows is that when he does, his arousal pulses and nearly threatens to break past the seam of his pants. Alhaitham moves lower, lower, ghosting past your stomach, nudging past the band of your bottoms and underwear to tug them down all the way. Those are thrown out of view and he finally, finally, gets to continue from where he last left off, taking no time to push your legs away towards your chest and give a lascivious lick up the length of your cunt. The tip of his tongue meets your clit at the end of its journey, and he firmly holds you down when your hips buck into his mouth as it circles the nub.

It’s game over when he takes it fully in his mouth.

Your hands twist themselves once more into his silver hair, expletives slipping off your tongue as you chase your high. You feel your pussy clench around nothing the higher you climb, the coil in your core winding tighter and tighter. He eats you out like a man starved, enthusiasm unveiled and clear. His passion unbridled and sending you further into the clouds, you feel tears in your eyes begin to well up from sheer bliss, so sensitive and so unbelievably unprepared for everything this man was going to give you tonight. “Haitham,” you cry over and over, his name a mantra and prayer.

When he leans back, you catch a glimpse of the sheen on his chin and the way his eyes remain focused on your arousal, pupils blown. “You taste so good,” he compliments, his voice somehow having dropped an octave lower. “Could eat you out for hours. So good for me, fuck.” It’s dangerous how much you love to hear him curse, knowing that you are the reason why. The rational, feeble, well-spoken scholar, his prose extending to situations such as now, is almost reduced to such crude and filthy vocabulary.

Alhaitham would need to be blind to miss your sticky precum practically spilling from your core after what he said. It’d be a shame to let any of it go to waste, he muses, as he drags his tongue up the length of your cunt and pays attention to your clit again. He watches for every reaction, what makes you tug him closer, what makes your body twitch and convulse, what causes the shakiest exhales from your lungs, what contributes to your squeals and cries – he wants you to get a taste of just how unhinged he becomes in your presence.

Each moment of friction, so wet and slick, against your core seems to send you further and further into oblivion. Tears overflow when your heart bursts and Alhaitham doesn’t miss them – the sheen sliding down the sides of your face shines in the moonlight and he knows there is no reason to fear you’re in pain. He drinks in your moans and feels your fingers tangle further in his silver strands, nails scraping lightly against his scalp, your hips with a mind of their own as you grind against his tongue and nose to chase your release. Alhaitham pays no mind to the way his cock twitches once more in his pants or the unmistakable wet spot that’s formed from his own precum.

The coil in your abdomen wounds tighter and tighter. There is nothing on your mind but the man between your legs and your impending orgasm, one with an intensity you haven’t experienced in ages. “ ‘m close,” you gasp and meet his burning gaze. “Please, wanna cum – yes – please, sir–”

How he doesn’t cum in his pants at the title is beyond his comprehension, but the stroke to his ego is welcoming, to say the least. Alhaitham never felt any type of way when others addressed him as so, sometimes annoyed even, but from you? It is everything. A verbal indication of relinquishing your power to him, your existence at its highest vulnerability, the underlying respect, the implicit trust hidden between three letters – only has him pushing down harder against your thighs, leaving no room for you to fight. The resolve and determination to have you cum on his tongue only increases and his thoughts plunder further into hell. Cum for me, cum on my tongue, let me taste your release that I give you, so fucking addictive – his silent commands painted on your tight bundle of nerves.

With Alhaitham exercising a dizzyingly sinful strength against you, leaving you helpless and defenseless, you let yourself succumb as your heart rate increases. Your breathy warnings and pleas, the oh fuck!s, the whimpering sir!s, confessions of love on the tip of your tongue – you have one minute, moment of clarity when your body freezes, and the coil snaps.

You don’t think you’ve ever cum so hard before, reality-shattering, nerves on overdrive, your body trembling beneath his palms as you ride out the pleasure for as long as you can. The quiet scream from your lungs is inevitable as it dissolves into sobs and Alhaithm follows you when your hips buck. There’s not enough oxygen for you and you can feel the visceral clenching of your abdomen as you fight for air and some semblance of control again – but that flies out the window when, for the first time tonight, Alhaitham slides his tongue inside your quivering cunt.

Said Scribe cannot help but groan, and he wishes he’d done this earlier. To feel your creamy walls squeeze as his taste buds slide amongst them, your keening ringing in his ears, the shaking of your thighs a prisoner between his fingers, the intoxicating taste of your cum – all of it is more than he could have ever dreamed of. Right where he wants you, and all his, his, his.

The incessant tugging of his hair tells him to stop for now, as much as he doesn’t want to. If it were up to him, he’d have you cumming on his tongue for hours, his hard cock be damned. But your convulsions of overstimulation manage to generate the slightest bit of sympathy and he laments when pulling away. His eyes hone in on the way your pussy contracts around nothing, almost begging for something to fill you again. “Good girl,” he praises, tenor delicate and charming, as he rubs gentle circles on your abdomen in an attempt to ground you. There are stars in your eyes, and he waits for you to come back to him.

You barely register Alhaitham’s hand on your body as you stare up at the ceiling, brain and soul somewhat disconnected due to the high of your orgasm. So good to me, your thoughts coo. Haitham, sir, how can I show my gratitude to him?

“Y/N,” and at last, you make eye contact with him. He preens at the blissed out look on your face and moves forward until he’s lying next to you, his weight supported on one arm while the other brushes away your baby hairs. A dreamy smile graces your lips, and he can’t help but lean forward for a soft kiss. Languid, sensual, pliant – several minutes fly by as you bask in each other’s presence until the need for more begins to bloom again. Alhaitham lets out a chuckle when he feels your hand wandering down his frame until it rests on his crotch. Making out with you has kept him semi-hard, and he’s happy you’re taking the initiative. Not that you’re in control, by any means, but it’s cute that you might think so.

Your mind reels from just how big he feels beneath your palm. You can’t deny the times when you’ve sneaked glances at his crotch, his tight pants outlining a slight bulge from day to day – but you never thought your fingers would be splayed so far apart, and you just know they would struggle to meet when gripping his length. Your whines reach his ears as you fumble with the clasp above the zipper, and Alhaitham is so kind, kind enough to take over and do it for you. Seconds later, his pants and underwear join the pile of forgotten clothes, and you immediately look down at what you’ve been waiting for.

The instant pooling of saliva in your mouth is embarrassing, shame and lust spilling into your chest and through your veins. Alhaitham’s cock is so beautiful, just like the rest of him, and you’ve never wanted something in your mouth so bad. It twitches under your reverent gaze, and the tip glistens with his precum. Even the noticeable veins drawn along his length are beautiful, and his balls seem to be engorged, heavy with cum. You prove your earlier hypothesis when you hold it in your hand, and your fingers truly do not meet around the circumference. A gush of slick leaks and paints your inner thighs, your hand seemingly tiny in comparison as you slowly stroke him.

Alhaitham hisses at your touch, so cold against the heat of his cock. There’s a passing thought of wanting to keep that fawning look on your face at all times, the metaphorical hearts in your eyes with his dick in your hand. In a moment of weakness, the thought begins to spiral into darker fantasies, how to keep you hooked and dependent on him, his cock, his mouth, his touch. A flash of a daydream crosses by of him sitting in his office chair, you on your knees between his legs, his shaft bullied deep in your throat as you keep it warm for him, drool and spit spilling from the corner of your lips, so submissive and desperate for him to fuck your face–

Your thumb glosses over his frenulum and he is ripped from his reverie. At risk of cumming too quickly, he thinks of how to keep your soft hands away for now. What can he use? How can he restrict you?

Ah.

Confused whimpers follow after him when he abruptly stands up from your bed and walks over to the pile of discarded clothes. You miss the warmth of his body next to you, goosebumps from the sudden chill rising on your skin. But before you can begin to chase after him, he returns to sit on the bed and beckons for you to sit up for him.

He loves how willing you are to obey him, your eyes wide and a little awestruck as you follow his gesture – almost as if he were your puppeteer. Alhaitham holds out his hands in front of him, palms facing the ceiling, and you match the posture with intrigue painted across your face. As you wait, clarification comes to you when he reveals the patterned, teal sash that usually encompasses his hips. Slow, deliberate movements as he wraps the cloth around your wrists (in case you don’t want it because he would never force you to do anything you were uncomfortable with), indicate this uncharted territory. And when the tie is made and the knot is pulled tight, you look up at him.

“Is this okay?” He asks. When you give a mute nod, he clicks his tongue in disapproval. “Words, Y/N.”

“I-I’m sorry,” you stammer. “Yes, sir, it’s okay.”

Alhaitham watches as you lay back until your head meets the pillow, and your bound wrists lay prettily above your head. Your constrained and exposed body greets him. He sees your eyes strain to catch another glance at his cock, and the smirk on his lips is nothing but smug as he gives it a few quick pumps as a gift to you.

“Can you come here?” You plead because you know there’s no room to make any demands, and it’s his turn to be curious. Nevertheless, he resumes his original position by your side, but you shake your head. You can tell he doesn’t know what’s happening, but you are feeling shameless and powerless, at the mercy of this man, and you want him to really, really, drive that point deeper.

“Can you…straddle me? Like above my chest though?”

If this is going where Alhaitham thinks it’s going, he might just abandon the Akademiya altogether, whisk you away to his house, kick out Kaveh and have him live in your apartment instead, and keep his own doors locked for eternity. He does as you ask as he thrums in excitement, his cock weighty and leaking when you’re satisfied with where he is.

Time slows to a crawl as he watches you lift your head up with your pretty mouth open and take the tip of his cock between your glossy lips.

The tight heat is maddening, a strangled “fuck” falling off his tongue, and you push forward to take more of his length in your mouth. So dutiful and loyal, you have proven yourself, as you suck his cock with your eyes closed and moans vibrating around him. Given certain physical limitations, there’s only so much you can take in, which is where he believes it’s his time to act his part. He places a hand on the back of your skull to provide you some relief, but also to sink deeper down your throat. Naturally, you fall back until it’s just the head between your lips again, but he is right there to drag you back towards him and fill your depraved mouth.

“Look at you,” he hisses, controlling your pace. Such a good little fucktoy, no?  “Who knew you would want my cock so badly? For me to sit on top and watch as you struggle to even take half of it in your mouth? I don’t think you have any idea of what you’ve started. Your lips are stretched so wide, but just wide enough for me to fit perfectly in between them, like it was made for me. Maybe that’s what it is.” His perverse thoughts run wild without any composure or filter, and he is unable to hold it in. “You were made for me and my cock, and– oh fuck – it seems like you love the idea of being my personal cocksleeve.”

Your eagerness to please him increases as you strain to take more in, his tip slipping into and catching the back of your throat. The sound of you choking on his cock rings in your ears, sending you further and further into oblivion. Every word from Alhaitham sounds true, and he’s right – right that maybe you were specifically made for him, his own blessing from the Archons, and right that you deeply, painfully, love the idea of letting him use you as he wishes. A garbled cry, followed by more sticky release dripping from your cunt, doesn’t go unnoticed when his voice sounds ragged on the word “cocksleeve.” It’s a lascivious tone of accord and approval, and your tears flow when he pulls you as far down his length as your quenched throat allows, your chained wrists resting atop your skull, and he keeps you there.

“This is what you want, isn’t it?” He asks with a teasing lilt in his voice. “I have no objections to fully commit to being yours, your sir. But you must understand I expect the same commitment in return. This cock is yours,” Alhaitham promises, relishing in your muffled whimper of agreement. “And you are mine. My,” – a pause – “personal, depraved, slut.”

At first, he worries he might have gone too far with such a derogatory term, but they are all dashed aside when he watches your eyelids flutter closed and eyes roll into the back of your head. A long whine sends him into overdrive, and even more so when you try to fit more of his cock down your throat. Expletives slip from his tongue as he pulls you away completely, a tendril of saliva connecting your lips to his tip, your mouth still wide open while gasping for air. He sees your own tongue peek out and rest on your bottom lip, pliant and waiting for him to return.

Alhaitham lets go of your skull and watches you fall back to your pillow. He moves your tied hands above and over your head until they settle right above your belly button. The position allows him to trap your arms beneath him and move just a little further up the bed for the bottom half of his length to weigh heavily on your eager mouth. It remains open as he drags his shaft along your tongue, teasing you by slipping the head of his cock in your mouth. Your lips immediately close around it, but they are no match for when he pulls away, and you’re left empty once again.

“Truly a cockslut,” he chides as his hand takes a hold of his length and smacks it against your tongue. “You’ll take everything I give you, won’t you?” And he smirks when you nod, still beckoning, still waiting. “You’ve done well for me so far. Perhaps I should give you a gift.”

There’s little time to regain your senses when he shoves his length in until it hits the back of your throat once more and grabs onto your headboard. Just that angle gives him enough leverage to fuck your face as he pleases.

“If your mouth is this tight, I can only imagine what your cunt will feel like on my cock,” he grits out. Your brain goes numb as you take it all in, content and satisfied to please Alhaitham. You focus on making sure your teeth don’t drag against his skin, tongue swiping patterns and circles around his cock when possible. “I’ll need to take my time stretching out your tiny pussy, won’t I? Fuck, need to make it fit inside you. Isn’t that right?”

Alhaitham pretends to be dissatisfied with your moan, all garbled and thick with drool. “How many times do I need to tell you to use your words?” He teases, knowing full well there’s no way for you to form any right now. But a wicked, joyous laugh rings in your ears when he can tell you’re attempting to do it anyways. It goes straight down his dick and into his balls, and as they tighten further, he knows he’s close.

You don’t know how it’s possible for him to grow any thicker, but somehow it happens when his pace increases, and he tells you, “I’m going to cum, okay? Going to give you all my cum, make you my cumslut. You want to be my cumslut, you’re doing so well, so perfect, letting me fuck your mouth. Shit, cumming, cumming –!”

At the very last second, he pulls out and furiously pumps his cock, shifting back just in time for his cum to paint your breasts. “Fuck!” He growls and rides out the high until there’s nothing left to give you, blinding light beneath his eyelids before he snaps them open so he can watch you become covered by his release. Viscous, white ropes paint over you, some even landing on your cheek and neck. His chest heaves and his eyes remain unfocused from the fog in his brain.

That is, until he watches you swipe his cum from your neck with your fingers before it drips onto the bed, and place them in your mouth. Your sigh screams content as you lick them clean, and as far as he can tell, you’re enjoying the taste of him – as if he was the one to sate your thirst rather than the other way around. In a trance, he joins you in your meal by feeding you more with his own appendages, and his dick returns to half-mast once all the cum is visibly gone and slid down your throat.

“Thank you for your cum,” you say, your voice dreamy and euphoric. Alhaitham pulls you by your bound wrists again until you’re sitting up close enough, and buries his head into your shoulder, embedding his own kisses of gratitude into your skin. It doesn’t matter that there’s dried spit on your chin and your hair is a mess – you’re still so incredibly stunning to him.

To look into your eyes, to cradle your face in his palm, to ghost his thumb over your cheekbone, how lucky he is to be in a position to even ask you, “Was that okay?”

“Very,” you smile, unabashed and clearly happy with everything that had just happened. A small giggle slips out as well.

“Good,” he murmurs after kissing your forehead. “Would you be open to one more round? It seems I haven’t gotten enough of you.”

You see the evidence of his claims, how his cock gradually grows and rises under your watchful stare. His earlier words of needing to stretch you out before he can fuck you play in your head, and they remind you of just how wet you are. Still tied up, you scoot back away from him until you can stretch your legs out, parted to reveal what you so desperately wanted to touch as his dick was lodged in your mouth. Alhaitham’s pupils dilate and zero in on the mess between your thighs, and he chases after you to spread your legs farther.

“You became this wet from me fucking your mouth?” His fingers slide against the folds of your puffy cunt, your clit peeking out and swollen. “Tsk, all this pre gone to waste,” and you whimper when his nails barely graze that bundle of nerves, still sensitive from your previous orgasm. There’s no resistance when he works his middle finger inside you and your breath hitches. He turns his wrist as he fingers you, creating more and more arousal coursing through your veins. Alhaitham is proud that one finger of his affects you so. You whine and reach for him with grabby hands, managing to latch onto his wrist so he can keep his appendages buried inside you. “My my,” he teases, and his fingers curl, searching and searching until his fingertip taps against the exact spot that makes your back arch.

“You’re so eager to be filled,” Alhaitham taunts as he lubes up his ring finger with your slick. You feel even tighter when it slips in with his middle finger, and he finds that spot again in no time, already having memorized where it is. “You don’t have my permission to cum yet,” he warns, a decision just made when your walls are really beginning to clench around him.

“B-but–”

A third finger joins in, cutting you off from any protesting. “You either cum on my cock or not at all,” he offers and you think it’s beyond cruel. Why can’t you cum on his fingers and his cock?

With every last thread of your existence, you stamp down the growing desire to cum again. It feels like hours have passed, your sanity barely intact, when Alhaitham hums, just loud enough to be heard amongst your moans and whines. “I’m beginning to question whether I truly am too big for you,” he contemplates out loud. “What do you think, Y/N?”

It’s so hard to answer his question when you’re using everything else inside you to not break around his fingers. The depraved squelching of your slick only adds fuel to the fire in your core, and you’re trying to think, you really are–

The friction ceases, and before you can even address it, there’s a light, punishing slap across your clit. “Fuck,” you whimper, throat dry.

“Answer my question. Do you think I might not fit inside you?”

You know what answer he’s looking for. You know he wants you to surrender to his hidden intentions, that, “It doesn’t matter,” and you swallow. “I will…make it fit.”

In turn, he removes his fingers with care, but leaves you horribly empty with the void expanding into your chest. “Do you have a condom?” Alhaitham asks while looking around your bedroom.

“The bottom drawer on the right in the bathroom.”

Your sir leans forward to place a gentle kiss on your stomach. “I will return soon.”

For the seconds that you try to catch your breath, to calm your beating heart, to ignore the vacuity between your legs, you realize just where you are and who you’re with. You haven’t had much of a clear mind since the second he knocked on your window, caught up in the whirlwind of your nerves and paranoia – and then to have it turned on its head where you now lay in your bed, free of any prior anxiety, and drown in your lust.

Alhaitham wanders back into your room, focused on the package in his hand. Shameless and perverse, your eyes drink in his length, bobbing with each step. Even you’re beginning to doubt your ability to take him all in, but the anticipation, the threads of excitement that you may be filled again clouds over everything else.

“Hold your legs for me,” he commands gently, and you obey once he unties the sash around your wrists. Your arms hook beneath your knees so that everything is displayed and exposed to him. He sets the condom to the side when he shuffles closer so his hips meet the bottom of your thighs. Your breath hitches when he presses his cock onto your abdomen, and it pleases both of you so much to see that his tip just about reaches your belly button. “Look at how deep it’ll be inside you,” he coos, your whine following. “But it’s okay if you can’t take it all, you can’t help it that your little cunt is so tight.”

There’s a twinge of faux disappointment in his words. As if on instinct, you shake your head in vehement disagreement. “I’ll make it fit, sir, I promise,” you gasp and pull your legs closer to you. “We have to make it fit.”

“Mmm, my eager cocksleeve,” he responds with mirth, his regales washing away the panic from your system. You wait with bated breath as he grinds the underside of his entire length against your glistening folds, purposely catching onto your clit when possible. You’re not sure how much longer you can stand the torture, becoming wetter and wetter with each glide. “The color system is okay to check in with you?”

“Yes.”

He nods and leans back so the tip of his cock is just outside your entrance. His fingers roll and stretch the condom down his length. It takes a tremendous amount of effort to tear his gaze away from your core so he can obtain your consent to start, and the determined nod he receives sets his heart aflame.

A sinful perversion enters his mind as he watches your messy cunt split open and stretch over the head of his cock. He thinks about the future and wonders when the day will be for you to be in his lap and sink down his cock with no hesitation. His thumbs spread your folds further apart so he can get a better look, his lustful illusions from many lonely nights finally coming into play. Your breathy gasp when the head pops in is alluring, and he craves more of it. That perversion echoes its lack of satisfaction, that this is not enough, and he needs it all. Pride fills his chest as you take the first few inches with no problem, trying to take deep breaths as he continues to bully his way into your pussy.

Though internally, your mind is on the verge of breaking from how thick Alhaitham is. The emptiness from earlier has long been fulfilled, and you take a look to see that he’s barely fit half oh him inside you, and you already feel so full.

You were made for me.

I was made for him, you remind yourself, rationality thrown out the window because serving Alhaitham is all that matters in this moment. He’s giving you his cock, taking his time for you, providing a subtle reminder of just who you will belong to from here on out. Alhaitham has been so kind to you, you think. The least you could do is to be his good little slut, so eager and always yearning for him.

“You’re doing so well,” Alhaitham praises, though his voice chokes. You’re terribly tight around him, so much so that he wonders if he would even be able to pull out once he’s buried all of himself inside you. It wouldn’t be much of a problem, he thinks, to have you stuck on his cock for eternity, fucked dumb with nothing on your mind but him and pleasure. His hand puts the slightest pressure on your abdomen, but it’s enough for you to break with an “oh!”

“Fuck, I can almost feel myself inside you,” he marvels. “Color?”

It takes you a few seconds to process his question. “Green,” falls off your tongue with a whimper. But the bit of hesitation is enough for Alhaitham to stop in his tracks.

“Y/N, look at me.”

A dreamy hum on your lips, your blown out eyes meet his, and he realizes how far gone you are. “We can stop, it’s okay if we do.” But that may have been the wrong thing to say because your face falls, tears prickling your eyes. “I can do it,” you sniffle. “Please, sir.”

There is no way for him to remain unaffected by the way you address him, but he ensures to take extra care for the last few inches.

“You’re doing so well, taking all of me in. You’re keeping your promise, I’m so proud of you,” Alhaitham coos. The bottom of his shaft is just a little bit thicker, and you let out a happy squeal when your cunt stretches as much as it can to accommodate him. His tip barely grazes your cervix, and through your floaty thoughts, you almost wish it was deeper. The groan from Alhaitham as he bottoms out provides you comfort. It can only mean that you’re making him feel good, and that you did manage to have him fit inside you. So pleased with yourself, your pussy clenches around him and coaxes for more, for his cum.

If Alhaitham didn’t have better control of himself, he would’ve cum right then and there. Buried deep inside you, warm velvety walls sucking him in – it’s hard to believe that this is really happening. The person he loves is in his arms, joined with him in the most intimate way known to mankind. He never wants to leave you, leave this, yet his cock begs for friction. Your adorable whine of protest as he slides out a couple inches beckons him to return, and return he does as you let out a sound of pure satisfaction.

“Loveyou,” your words slurred together and fuzzy. “Love, love your cock, please, wan’ more, please?”

Archons, how are you so perfect for him? Alhaitham sets a steady, moderate pace and focuses on you, ensuring that you’re okay and pleased. It seems there’s a permanent grin on your face, even when you gasp or scream, and he’s determined to keep it there. When you seem completely accustomed to his pace, his strokes become longer and more indulgent. “Fuck,” you cry each time he fills you up with more and more of his cock with each stroke. His thumbs rub circles into your clit and drive you closer to your peak – you don’t know if you’re ready to cum yet, or if you want this to end. You don’t, but you’re so close–!

“Such a good girl for me – your little cunny was really made for my cock. There’s no one else for me, just you, pretty girl,” he breathes, seeing the hesitation on your face as your walls clench tighter than before. “I know you’re gonna cum soon, I want to see you cum on my cock. Can you do that for me?”

Anything he asks for, you would go to great lengths to give him what he wants. So if he wants you to cum, then you have to. You nod with a pout on your face, but Alhaitham leans forward, pushing your legs back further as he reaches to kiss the pout away. “That’s my good girl, so perfect.”

He pulls out completely, but why?

Alhaithm grabs and maintains eye contact with you for two agonizing seconds, and then commands you to, “Cum for me.”

And you do just that when he slams his entire length inside you as soon as those words leave his lips.

Alhaitham basks in your scream and sobs, your body convulsing and trembling beneath him, your walls an impossible vice around his cock. He grinds against you to go as deep as he can, “fuckfuckfuck”, and a growl buried in your neck as he cums. In your high, you think you can feel the heat and its spasms of it all, passively wondering what it would feel like to have him cum inside you without a condom. Perhaps one day you’ll be granted a nice little breeding session, but that is neither here nor there.

Alhaitham plants pecks and kisses all over your face, neck, and shoulders, smiling when your little giggles reach his heart. If anything, he’s just happy that everything turned out okay and didn’t end up in a disaster like last time. As he observes the serenity gracing your complexion, he cannot contain his affection any longer.

“Thank you…for having me.” I love you.

Another giggle. “I love you, too, Haitham. A lot.”

You’re kindly gifted a most adoring eskimo kiss. “I need to get you cleaned up, so I need to pull out, okay?”

The pout returns despite your agreement, and Alhaitham spends much needed time to pull out without you breaking. The devil on his shoulder protests otherwise, as it attempts to coax him into keeping you speared on his cock for the night, or more. Your whine of loss tugs at his heartstrings and feeds into his greed, and he embraces you once more to keep you grounded. Slowly, but surely, you return to your senses. Alhaitham is heavy and sweaty against you, but it’s more than you could ask for. A few taps on his shoulder are enough to tell him that you’re back on the same plane of reality with him, and he dives in to kiss you again, painting compliments and praises of how amazing you were along your lips.  

Alhaitham then sweeps you off the bed, into his arms, and takes hurried steps towards the bathroom. You’re like a delicate flower with the way he places you on the toilet, and he reminds you of the importance of peeing after sex. Your privacy is granted when he leaves to remove and tie off the condom to discard it in the kitchen trash can, and later returns with a warm, wet towel. He waits until you’re back in bed and comfortable before he tenderly wipes away any excess fluids and leaves it on your nightstand before cuddling next to you. You turn towards him and burrow into his chest, content as his arms embrace you with an air of security and protection.

He mumbles something into your hair, but you’re out before you can even think to ask what he said.

-

When you finally come to, you can’t remember the last time you slept so well. No tiresome dreams, no sporadically waking up in the night – weeks out in the nature with Lumine had turned you into a light sleeper, and you missed this feeling of being so well-rested.

But the soreness in your thighs screams otherwise, and you wince when they refuse to cooperate. A muscular arm rests around you as if it has always belonged there. At first you question why it’s there, but then your brain decides to wake up and remind you just exactly of what transpired last night. Despite the mixture of shock and embarrassment (mainly at just how wanton you acted), you look up from where you are buried into Alhaitham’s chest. Somehow, you’re surprised to see him already awake. Well, surprised may not be the right word. But the clear adoration in his eyes is unmistakable, seizing and pulling on your heartstrings.

Alhaitham quite enjoys watching you think and process, imagining the fine-tuned gears and cogs in your brain working in overdrive. He remains silent as he smooths out some of the tangles in your hair, and he patiently waits to hear from you. You two had already experienced many hours of quietude before, so this was nothing new for him. There are very few moments in his life when he’s felt this serene and content, half-naked and you pressed against him, both drinking in each other and the light of day coming from your window. He could get used to this. He wants to get used to this.

“You’re making me breakfast in bed,” you decide with your first words of the day, grumbling with a pout on your face. “I don’t think I can walk properly.”

The former scribe arches a perfect silver brow, but the shit-eating smirk stretching along his face is anything but confusion. He knows exactly what you’re implying, and he’s quite satisfied with himself for causing such a situation. Perhaps he should do it more often.

“That I can do,” he agrees, his morning voice deep, yet full of mirth. After a quick kiss on your forehead, he rolls out of bed to do just as you command.

The growl from your stomach prevents you from calling him back because you’re cold now. A shiver runs down your spine as you tighten the blanket and sheet around you, tucking some beneath your chin in an attempt to trap whatever warmth you have left. But when you catch a hint of Alhaitham’s lingering scent, you feel yourself immediately calm down and breathe evenly. The gentle cluttering from your kitchen provides another layer of security as well.

Lost in your basking, you’re quite startled when you feel Alhaitham’s lips on your cheek, a tray in his hands with a light, yet nutritious breakfast arranged. But as you continue to lay there, he can’t help but laugh.

“Do you need help sitting up?”

“No.”

“Don’t be stubborn.”

You do, in fact, need his strength to sit up comfortably against some pillows. The embarrassment hasn’t quite worn off by the time he slides back underneath the sheets to sit next to you, an arm slung over your shoulders as you eat. But in seconds, it dissipates, and is replaced with something akin to love. For you both to finally be here, together as if you two have been dating for years, is exactly the outcome you have been wishing for.

“You know,” he starts before being interrupted by a forkful of food shoved into his mouth, courtesy of you. “You’re a perfect reason why I can finally kick Kaveh out of my home.”

You swat his shoulder with your free hand. “That’s so mean!”

“He can just move in here. I’m not that heartless to leave him homeless. Is that what you think of me?”

You answer without hesitation, “Yes.”

With the hand hanging off your shoulder, his nails scrape lightly in retaliation against the skin beneath your collar bone.

“If I recall, I was pretty fair with you last night,” he murmurs into your hair. “Perhaps I need to remind you just how fair when you’re done with breakfast.”

And you’ve never finished a meal so quickly.

fin.

[meespresso14]

Unexpected

Rating: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, MATURE CONTENT.

Warnings: mentions of nausea, vomiting, and pregnancy.

“Hey babe, I’ve got to go.”, Luca’s voice, your fiancé who belonged to SWAT’s voice rang out. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

He came in the bedroom, looking at you in bed. You knew you looked terrible—pale as a ghost, sweaty, and wiping the tears from your eyes. 

“Yes, I’ll be fine. Go to work. And don’t worry about me.”, you sniffled.

Luca’s face wore concern as he touched the door way. “I’ll always worry about you.”

“Not during a mission. Nope. You know the rules.”

“That was when we first started dating and I wasn’t sure things were going to get serious.” 

You rolled your eyes easily, sitting up in bed but instantly feeling so sick that you had to immediately lay back down. 

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”, you groaned.

Luca came over to the bed, siting on the edge. He sat on his empty side of the bed. You weren’t going to lie—it wasn’t so bad when he left for work some days and you could have the entire bed to yourself and sleep in. But today wasn’t shaping up to be a great day. You had already called your boss, letting them know you wouldn’t be in today. This had been going on for a few mornings but you were sure there was something going around.

He brushed through your hair easily. “I just hate leaving you when you’re feeling bad.”

“I know. But I’m a big girl, I can handle myself.”

Luca rolled his eyes, scoffing playfully. “Fine. Mrs. Independent. But if you need anyone—Annie’s number’s on the fridge.”

“Also have it in my phone.”, you smirked at him, shaking it lightly. 

Luca smirked back. “I love you. I’ll see you tonight. Unless it’s an all night job.”

“Okay, honey. Be careful. I love you too.”

He kissed your head, brushing through your hair again. “Get some rest.”

“I’ll try.”

__________________________________________________________________________

Back at SWAT headquarters, Luca was in the locker room. The assignment was already given by Hondo. Most of the team had already finished getting ready minus Deacon.

“Hey Luca. How’s Y/N?”

Luca looked up at him. “Not so great. She had a really rough morning. Woke up—said she felt dizzy, nausea, vomiting. This is like the third day in a row. She couldn’t hardly keep water down, man.”

Deacon’s eyes widened before he stifled a small laugh. “Dude.”

“What?”

“Ever think she could be having morning sickness?”

“Morning sickness?”, Luca repeated.

“Yeah—as in she’s pregnant.”

Luca scoffed playfully before resolving in laughter. “No way man.”

Deacon shrugged his shoulders lightly before smirking at Luca whilst leaning against his locker. “Just saying—Annie and I have been through this four times already.”

Luca rolled his eyes. “Well, we aren’t trying.”

“Don’t have to be.”

“She wants to get married first. I respect that, Deac.”

Deacon smirked easily before patting Luca on the shoulder. “Alright, Luca. Let’s get ready to head out.”

Luca nodded, his smile fading softly. What if Deacon was right? He swallowed hard, thinking about the possibility. He wanted nothing more than to have his own family. But he knew that there were steps you wanted to take first. There had been many women in and out of his life but none of them understood that SWAT came first. You did—and it blew his mind. You understood when he was late coming home—sometimes never coming home until the next morning just as you were getting up and getting ready for work.

You’d never admit to Luca that on the nights he didn’t come home, you barely slept. You worried about him. But you knew this would be part of your life as long as you were with him—and you wanted that to be forever. Luca shook his head, trying to get the thought away. At least just during the mission.

Back at home, you finally trudged your way into the living room. You barely made it to the couch, that queasy feeling never quite leaving. You laid down, a sigh of relief finally escaping you as you turned on the television and began watching one of your favorite reality shows. 90 Day Fiancé. It was almost comical how in love these people seemed to be, giving themselves ninety days to get married in. It was something you could never do. 

After being emerged in your show, you heard a knock on the door. You debated not answering it. Whatever it was, it could wait. But you all didn’t live in the best part of LA. But it was up and coming. Another couple of knocks came to the door and you sighed, lifting yourself off the couch painfully slow.

“Coming.”, you barely got out. 

Standing up only made you feel worse, that queasy feeling intensifying. It was miserable. Quickly, you opened the door to reveal none other than Annie Kay.

“Annie.”, you smiled even through the sickness. 

“Y/N. How are you feeling?”

She took you in a hug and you prayed she wouldn’t squeeze too tight. That might be the thing that sent you over the edge. 

“Uh okay—just really nauseous.”

“Oh my gosh—come on, let’s get you to the couch. You look a little green around the gills.”

“I am.”, you sighed as she ushered you over to the couch. “Did Luca send you?”

“Well, not exactly. Deacon had said you weren’t feeling well and I thought I’d run by and check in on you.”

She sat you down before laying her purse in the chair across the couch. “Lay back.”

You didn’t argue with her suggestion considering you felt like you could throw up at any given second. 

“How long has this been going on?”

“A couple of days.”

“Have you eaten anything and kept it down?” 

“Not exactly.”

Annie’s lips curved in disapproval. “I’ll get a cool washcloth.”

You heard her move through the house, working her way to the bathroom and eventually finding the towel closet. You closed your eyes, praying that you wouldn’t throw up anymore. You were so sore from dry heaving. As you heard Annie approach, you opened your eyes softly. 

“Have you thought about going to the hospital?”

“No. Why waste valuable resources on someone who doesn’t need them? I’m sure it’s a virus or a stomach bug or something.”

Annie looked at you disapprovingly as she laid the washcloth on your forehead. “Because it could be something else going on.”

“Annie, you don’t have to do this. Aren’t your kids at home? They need you more than I do.”

“We’re family. We SWAT girlfriends, fiancees, wives have to stick together.”, she smirked. “We’ll always be here for you. Besides my mom is there with the kids right now. It’s fine.”

You smiled softly. Ever since Luca introduced you to Annie, you all had became quick friends. It was a no brainer considering your partners worked together. But it was nice to have someone around who understood how you felt—your worries, your fears, how much you loved the man that made you feel all of these things. Annie understood that a hundred percent and validated your feelings, letting you know they were normal. She recounted memories from when Deacon was a police officer before transitioning to SWAT.

SWAT only intensified her worry but she knew it was his passion—it was something he loved. And Luca was no different—considering he grew up around his father and grandfather. There was no talking him out of trying out for SWAT. 

“Thanks. It means a lot—oh crap. Annie, can you grab that small trash can? I think I’m going to be sick.”

Annie jumped off the couch, quickly grabbing the trash can and immediately handing it to you before she pulled your hair back. It was no time before you were back to your same morning routine—dry heaving. You began coughing lightly as Annie looked on sympathetically. She stroked your hair lightly as if she was trying to reassure you. Your eyes were full of tears and you could barely see as you rubbed them, hoping the torture was over. 

Sighing, Annie sat the trash can down on the floor. “You didn’t have anything to really throw up.”

“I know.”, you sighed. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“Don’t worry, I have four kids. I’m used to a little vomit.”, she smirked playfully before her voice deadpanned, turning slightly more serious. “I really think you need to get checked out.”

“I’m fine.”

“Y/N.”

“Really, Annie—I am. I even feel better now. I’m gonna go try and shower.”

Annie watched from the sidelines as you threw your blanket back and swung your legs over the side of the couch, planting them firmly on the hardwood floor. You felt dizzy and light headed but decided to continue on your stubborn way and you were damn determined to get to the bathroom and take a quick shower regardless. 

“Are you sure you feel okay?”

“I’m fine.”, you repeated, being insistent. “Really.”

She backed off easily, realizing quickly that she wasn’t going to win this argument. She knew you were determined, driven in your own way, and slightly stubborn. It made sense why you and Luca were so good for another. You all balanced each other out in some ways. It took so much effort to put one foot in front of the other and you prayed Annie wasn’t noticing your struggle. You could feel her eyes on you but tried to ignore it.

The bedroom began to grow blurry as you cleared the door frame, barely closing the door. You had to steady yourself for a moment before continuing. At least you were alone now and Annie couldn’t see you struggling. Breathing a slight sigh of relief, you continued to the bathroom. Things seemed to go from bad to worse, vision blurring further to the point you could barely make out the shapes of the shower, sink, and toilet. Your body began to sway, eyes closing and everything faded to black.

The mission was getting hot and heavy, the SWAT team coming upon the house with hostages inside. That’s when Cortez radioed Hondo.

“This is Captain Cortez to 20 David.”

“This is 20 David.”

“Is there any way Luca can be pulled out safely without compromising the team or mission?”

“Negative, Captain. Not right now. Is something wrong?”

Cortez sighed before responding. “Annie is on her way to the hospital with Y/N. She passed out at home. Just get him out as soon as you can.”

“I will.”, Hondo promised.

Hondo sighed as he ended the radio conversation, refocusing his attention to the matter at hand. Watching Luca spring into action while having no clue what was going on behind the scenes was gut wrenching. He could only imagine how Luca’s reaction would be when he told him but right now he didn’t have time to think about that. There are things that needed to happen before he could do that. As long as things went smoothly, this would end soon and he could tell Luca about what was going on with you. 

The team worked like a well oiled machine, staying in the zone. It wasn’t the first time they had been in a similar situation. Everyone knew their role and the knew it well. Hondo gave gentle orders, they followed. It was that simple. The moment of truth came, the moment they had been waiting for. Chris had a clear shot and was able to subdue the target. So far, things were successful. Hondo hoped they stayed that way. He knew he needed to pull Luca as soon as he could.

Besides his parents, you were the only other person he was so close to. Hondo could tell how much he loved you—how much he cared about you. No other woman had made it this far with Luca so he knew you were special. There was something about you. He could remember when Luca had a little more pep in his step. Hondo knew in that moment there was another woman. After the team teased and prodded at him to gain some information, they didn’t think it would last.

Luca didn’t have a good track record with women or relationships. So when things went the opposite way and Luca brought you to meet the team, they knew things were different. He seemed serious about you. That was even before the proposal. It seemed like yesterday when Luca was acting weird—getting prompted by the team about what was going on. They all feared trouble in paradise. But they were so far off from what was really going on. 

He sighed, finally telling them that he planned on proposing to you—that night. He asked them if they thought it was too soon or if you’d say yes. He got a few teasing answers but in all seriousness, everyone agreed that you’d be over the moon. That was one of the best days of your life. After watching the news all day and worrying about Luca, you were finally glad to see him that night. It was supposed to be dinner at a restaurant on the beach and then a walk on the beach. 

He might have been late but he had a good excuse. He expected you to be angry but you understood why he was late. In that moment, you proved even further why he should marry you. You were the only woman who understood SWAT came first. It was a sacrifice you were willing to make if that meant being with Luca for the rest of your life. 

You could hear all the sounds around you—people talking and moving around you. A familiar voice was one you picked up on—Annie. Slowly, you opened your eyes, everything coming into view. It was a white room, a sterile smell up in your nose. Were you at the hospital?

“Y/N?”, Annie touched your arm gently. 

Turning to look at her, she finally came into view after you blinked a couple of times. 

“What happened?”

“You passed out in the bathroom. I brought you here immediately. Your blood pressure was low, they did some blood work. The doctor should be in shortly.”

“I’ll get him.”, the nurse spoke up.

“Did you call for Luca?”

“I did. Jessica said she would get Luca out as soon as she could.”

You smirked. “SWAT comes first.”

Annie smirked back. “It’s part of this life, isn’t it?”

“It is. Thank you, Annie.”

“You’re welcome.”

Interrupting the heartfelt conversation, the sound of the curtain sliding back and the doctor entering the room got your all’s attention.

“Miss L/N?”

“Yes?”

“I’m Doctor Owens. I’m treating you today and I’d like to go over a few things with you since you’re awake now.”

You nodded.

He continued. “Is your husband on his way?”

“Fiancé and as soon as he can. He’s a police officer—well, he’s on SWAT.”

“One of LA’s finest.” 

You smiled, instantly thinking about him and nodded lightly. Annie smiled at you sympathetically and you felt like she already had an idea of what was going on. You fiddled with the hem of your blanket lightly. 

“Your blood pressure was low when you arrived. We did some blood work and determined that your iron levels were also low. Also, you had an abnormal result in your blood work.”, he smiled.

Why was he smiling?

“What’s going on?”, you asked easily.

Annie squeezed your arm reassuringly. 

“You’re pregnant. Congratulations.”, the doctor smiled. “Your HCG levels are perfect. Your iron and blood pressure were low from early pregnancy. We just need your consent to give you some iron infusions before you leave. We might keep you overnight, just observe you.”

“Pregnant?”, you repeated, feeling like the wind had been taken out of your sails.

The doctor nodded. “Around four weeks. Still early but everything looks great. I’ll be happy to go over the results once your fiancé arrives.”

You nodded softly, swallowing hard. The doctor disappeared behind the curtain and you instantly began to feel overwhelmed. 

“I can’t believe this.”, Annie smiled. “Luca is going to be over the moon—oh, he’ll be so thrilled.”, she smiled.

“Are you sure?”, you laughed nervously and she could tell you were worried.

“I’m sure—he’s always wanted his own family.”

You began to feel a little numb, like you were disassociating slightly. It felt like a dream—but you weren’t sure if it was going to have a happy ending. You could only hope Luca would take the news well. You’d find out soon enough. 

TO BE CONTINUED....

If anyone has any requests, send them my way.

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

Baby Baby

Pairing: Dark Bruce Wayne x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

SUMMARY: Bruce will make sure you're bound to him forever.

WARNINGS: Implied babytrapping; Pregnancy. 

AN: Also, first time writing for this Bruce Wayne so Please, reblog and give me feedback. Also imagine him a bit older, cause he always looks so young.

--

You remain laid down, eyes closed while inhaling long breaths of air. It works averagely, the waves of nausea declining.

But the feeling that something is very wrong only grows with each second.

A hand lands on yours and you open your eyes, turning your face to the side, meeting Bruce's eyes. He gives you a reassuring smile but you can't find the energy to return it.

You already suspect the condition that sent you to the hospital, the thought eating you up inside. 

All the times he forgot to use condoms, the almost imperceptible way your birth control pills tasted slightly different than usual. Bruce's encouragement for you to work out more, the gross healthy diet he'd imposed at home, the way he always came inside you.

Now you suspect why.

“Are you feeling any better?” Bruce asks, stroking your hair. “Do you need some water? Want me to order some food?"

You shake your head, slowly lifting yourself up to lean against the bed's headboard. Bruce hurries to help you, fluffing a pillow behind your back before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

A shiver makes your body shake, exhaustion flooding you and you fight with yourself just to keep your eyes open.

"I'm sure everything is fine, don't worry, love." he says and you nod.

Not long after a doctor appears, accompanied by a nurse and you cringe at the sight of them. The doctors at this private hospital scare you, all of them with a serious, almost robotic face.

“How’s the patient feeling now?” the doctor approaches you, stethoscope in his hand ready to auscult you.

“She’s better now, not feeling that weak anymore.” Bruce answers, a tinge of annoyance hitting you at his behavior. “What did the blood test show?”

The cold metal makes you flinch, but you keep taking deep breaths until the doctor ends. He comes to stand in front of the bed, a sympathetic smile that does nothing to make you feel better on his face as he looks at Bruce.

“Everything is fine besides the sugar level being low, that's what caused the faint.” Bruce squeezes your hand and you hold your breath, already knowing what's coming next.

“However, that’s completely normal in a pregnancy.”

His words make you feel weak again and you’re just glad you're already seated down.

Bruce's face breaks into a huge grin, arms wrapping around you in a hug as his hand travels to your belly, remaining there. You freeze, unable to think properly. You’re pregnant. Of Bruce.  

He parts to hold your face in a possessive kiss, ignoring the doctor that exits the room, leaving you alone.

“I am so proud of you, love. This is wonderful news,” he declares, his eyes twinkling. Your stomach does a flip and you grip the sheets tightly, trying to control yourself.

You will never be able to leave him.

[dazed--xx]

SKZ reaction: S/O has childhood trauma (maknae line)

⚠️T/W⚠️: mentions of racism, sexual assault, serial killer, domestic violence, kidnapping, wanting to vomit. Blood mentions.

A/N: so this is really…uh dark lol 😂 my mind just ran away with Jeongins and it is not based on true events okay. Jeong Nam-gyu was a terrible person and I hope he’s rotting in hell. I hope his victims families have found peace. It was a little hard trying to come up with ways for Y/N to tell them so that was fun lol but requests are still open for all groups guys

Hyung line

Jisung: racism

“Babe look it’s a Dahlia!” Jisung exclaims excitedly. You light up at his excitement gripping his hand slightly as he pulled you toward the small bush. “It’s so pretty!” You exclaim, pointing excitedly at the small arch the trees made as you wondered the garden. You were excited to show your boyfriend your hometown as his tour coincided with your trip back to your small hometown. Your heart raced as you and Jisung continued to playfully chase each other through the small path. You notice a small group of guys further down the path you swallow nothing as you try to brush off the small bad feeling that bubbled in your gut. You can see the snickers they gave each other, their eyes sitting directly on you and your boyfriend as you pass them. You’re about to let out a sigh of relief before you hear a false cough with the person that did it doing the stereotypical song for an Asian person. You feel Jisung freeze; his eyebrows sit scrunched together before he shakes his head and slowly begins walking beside you. You couldn’t help but looking back at the boys who you now see stretching their eyes whilst pointing and laughing at you and Jisung.

You turn back to Jisung who’s eyes sat the on the group of guys, his jaw clenched his hand balling into a fist. You caress his forearm his eyes connecting with yours at your action, “baby please just let it go” he stares intently into your orbs. They were pleading, sitting with fear hidden within them. He caresses your cheek wrapping his arm around your shoulder and gently tugging you toward the parking lot back to his car. The walk was silent, you felt safe in your boyfriends embrace as the group continued to eye you and Jisung. “Oppa…” your tone is serious “keep your eye’s forward. Don’t look back at them at all. Act like nothing is wrong get in the car and drive. As fast as you can just drive, okay? Don’t ask questions until we’re out of here” your grip on your boyfriend's hand was vice like as you explained with a heavy heart. Jisung does as you say and soon you let out a sigh of relief. The car ride is silent all the way back to your parents' house. “What was that about?” He questions nervously. “Just stupid racists…” you murmur pulling your hair to the side and shifting your shirt exposing your shoulder and a long-jagged scar that sat above your collarbone. “This…” you point at your scar “is what can happen when you try to defend yourself against people like that” his fingers brush over the scar. “What happened?” His voice was barely above a whisper. “I looked different. Here, it’s dangerous for you to be different sometimes…I was in middle school and some boys were being stupid, they were always dicks but one of them found his dads knife one day. Figured out a way to sneak it into school, they never liked me because I was one of the few minorities in town. I represented something they were terrified of… anyway they bullied everyone, but I was the only one to ever truly fight back. Apparently, I won too many times in their eyes, and I needed to be shown my place in the world.” Your breath was shaky as a stray tear ran down your face. “Needless to say, the lesson was taught, and I was sent to my grandmothers in Korea” disparity sat on your features.

Jisung sat in silence for a second his eyes focused on your face as you spoke. A wave of nausea took over his body as you explained the scar. His hand gripped yours tightly “I’m not going to say that I’m glad that it happened to you. But now at least you live somewhere safe, and I got to meet you. Thank you for telling me, I know it was probably hard for you” you give him a comforting smile “I love you.”

Felix: S.A.

The small quaint restaurant had a tranquil ambiance as Felix poured you a glass of wine. You sat with nervousness as he smiled at you; butterflies fluttered in your stomach. The night was coming to an end as you finished off your dessert, you blush as Felix scrunched his nose gesturing for you to meet him by the door which you do with a shy smile. You were happy as you finally were able to spend time with the man you had spent all your time chatting with online. It was only your first official time meeting in person since you both had defined your relationship and beside a few video chatting dates with him this was truly your first time ever getting to soak in the warmth he radiated. The moment you were covered by the darkness you felt his warmth once more; ever since you had picked him up from the train station, he continuously found a way to always have his arm around you. A bright smile plastered upon his heart shaped lips, your eyes tracing the patterns in his freckles. Yet you still wondered what it would be like to press your lips against his; you felt anxiety every time he had learned in slightly to test the waters. But as you felt his chest pressed against your back his arms encasing your waist.

A blush creeps on your cheeks as he buries his face in your neck, your finger’s immediately finding their way into his hair. “I can’t believe you’re really here” you chirp excitedly, Felix chuckles as you guys reach your car. Suddenly, you’re whipped around your back pressed against the passenger door as Felix presses his lips to yours excitedly. It takes a moment before you realize Felix is kissing you. Your lips respond to his as you wrap your arms around his neck. His hands on your waist pulling you into his slender frame, his tongue begging for entry. A small moan is released from your throat as you allow him access your fingers lacing with the strands of hair on the back of his head. His hand glides down lifting your leg around his waist pressing his hard member against you before reluctantly pulling away “we should get back to your place” he states behind breathless gasps as he pressed his forehead to yours. You nod excitedly at the idea of getting out of your heels.

The drive back to your place was filled with Felix’s hand adorning your thigh to the point where it felt empty as he removed the appendage when he had pulled into your driveway. You let out a sigh of relief as you sat on your couch pulling the demon shoes off before laying down. Felix smiles at you as he makes his way into your room. A moment later, he exits no longer in the nice button-down shirt and slacks; your face heats up at his failure to put on a shirt and how low his shorts were sitting. You begin to sit yourself up as Felix places himself beside you. His arms wrapping around your waist pulling you to sit on his lap.

His lips connecting with your, you revel in the moment. His lips are soft moving with purpose, his tongue brushing over your lips opening your mouth you allow him entry. Anxiety builds in your throat as you feel Felix’s hand caress your thigh gliding its way up your leg. Your hand quickly grasping his wrist haunting his movements “W-wait!” You cry as your mind drifts back to the sickening memory of your father's best friend; tears building in your eyes blurring your vision. At your plea Felix’s hand stops quickly pulling it off you “I-I’m sorry I thought…I’m sorry” he apologizes. His eyes observing your distressed expression, “are you okay babe?” He questions worry in his eyes as you panic shaking your head in response “I’m sorry you didn’t do anything wrong” your voice is shaky “I-I never had a choice in this type of thing before and I got scared” you confess ashamed. Realization dawns on him as tears well up in his eyes “Baby…” he whispers pulling you tightly against his chest “I promise you. I will never do anything without your consent” he reassures. “I know baby I’m so sorry I freaked out I trust you I do I swear” you apologize, pressing your lips to his softly letting out a sigh of relief as he holds you against him spending the rest of the night holding you and reaffirming his previous declaration.

Seungmin: domestic violence

“Why can’t you accept that I said no!” You snap at your boyfriend. He sighs rubbing his temple trying not to lose his patience “because babe it’s your mom. You said you wanted to see your mom” he counters annoyance embedded in his tone. You stare blankly at him “did you forget I also said I don’t want to see that man?” You throw your hands up in frustration. He doesn’t get it you think to yourself and he won’t unless you just tell him the truth.

“That man? Your dad, Y/N?” He argues, you shake your head in denial “that man isn’t my dad Seungmin!” Your voice is barely above a whisper “I’m not allowed to go see my mom. My dad died when I was 7 years old. And that man, my mom's husband…. Is a monster” realization overflows his body like a tsunami “is he hurting your mom?” His tone is full of disgust, he knows the answer is yes by your lack of response “did— “the question he’s about to ask makes him feel like he’s going to throw up “did he hurt you?” You nod dejectedly a pout on your lips. “I-I couldn’t get through most days without him giving me or my mom a bruise or on really bad days a hospital visit. I begged my mom to leave him but it’s not that simple, he’ll kill her if she leaves. He almost killed me when we tried. If I go back there things will be worse for her, he’ll probably succeed this time and he’ll kill my mom. That was the deal when I moved to Seoul.” You notice Seungmin jaw clenched fists balled up at his sides “Im here now. He won’t touch you. Either of you I’ll kill him with my bare hands if he tries.” He states boldly “we need to go get your mom” you shake your head “please don’t. We can figure something out that doesn’t risk your career.”

Seungmin shakes his head “I don’t care about my career! This is your mom, how can I sit here when I know what’s happening to her” “baby we just need a plan, a way that doesn’t involve violence to get my mom” your tone is soft and pleading, a tear streams down his face “im so fucking pissed right now, it makes me sick to think anyone hurt you. I can’t just sit here and accept that” you give him a sad smile “at least im safe and I know you won’t hurt me.”

Jeongin: kidnapping

“Innie look it’s a matching couple blanket set!” You exclaim excitedly as you make your way toward your boyfriend. A wide smile sitting on his lips “that’s nice you wanna get it baby?” You smile with enthusiasm “can we?” He nods pecking your lips softly “anything for you my love” a blush creeps on your cheeks as you two continue to look around in the quaint boutique. You notice some girls whispering to each other and pointing in your direction. Shrugging them off as just very shy STAY you continue your shopping, ever since you and Jeongin went public there’s been plenty of times where you’d be out with your boyfriend and fans would sit idly by until they worked up the courage to come ask for a picture and say hi. You’d always enthusiastically offer to take the photo for them and leave them with a positive image of you. Sometimes adding a joke or two of how you were just the mistress to them. Yet something about these girls seemed different, their eyes never drifted to Jeongin who stood beside you. They were looking at you, anxiety builds in your throat as you and Jeongin pass by them to look at some character lamps they had when you heard their whispers “is it really her? She looks like she’s 21-22 that’s how old she’d be right now. Do you think he like did stuff to her? How long do you think she was messed up after?” Dread fills your gut; they were talking about you. They know who you are, your eyes widen as your breathing grows heavy. You grab Jeongin’s arm asking to leave, almost pleading as you feel someone tap your shoulder. Jumping in a panic you face one of the girls “excuse me a-are you Choi Y/N?” Your maiden surname makes you feel like you’re going to throw up. You nod reluctantly, embarrassment on your face as you prepare for the inevitable.

“I’m really happy you made it through all of that. It looks like you’re doing well, though I’m sure you wish it didn’t happen. I hope you’re coping with everything” she states apologetically. “I-I’m doing okay, I don’t like talking about it much though. S-still a little painful” you stare as you scratch your head in nervousness you can feel Jeongin’s confused eyes burning holes into the back of your head. “But I-I’m with my boyfriend and we have to go it was nice meeting you thank you for your support” she gives an apologetic smile “I’m sorry yeah you have things to do probably but you’re an inspiration honestly after I heard your story, I was able to get myself help so thank you so much for telling it”You hold in a breath. You didn’t want to share it, the police and your mother made you, but it was nice to know your forced interviews were worth something. “T-thank you so much I hope you have a good rest of your day” you wave her off as you pull Jeongin out of the store placing the couple blanket on a random shelf on your way out.

He gives you a moment to breath before he halts his movements “im sorry but I have to ask what the hell was that about? Choi Y/N? I thought you were Im Y/N?” Your hands shake at your side “please…let’s not talk about this here let’s go back to the dorm and I’ll explain everything” he nods as he continues to walk beside you. Silence hung over the the two of you as all the way to Jeongins room. “I was Jeong Nam-Gyus last victim…” you state as you close the door behind you. Tears welling up in your eyes as Jeongins eyes widen in shock his mouth hanging open wide as he stumbles back taking a seat on his bed. “I-I was 4 and playing at the park with my best friend. we were just playing hide and seek,a-and when I finished counting, I looked everywhere for him, but I couldn’t really find him on the playground, so I went near the treeline and that’s where I found him. H-he has his throat cut a-and there was this adult guy sitting over him just-t s-smelling him. Blood was all over him, and he was just looking at his knife and sniffing it. I started to cry because I was scared and he smiled at me said he liked my face when I cried and he was going to keep me for a while, I was there for 6 months before the cops found me. I can’t remember much from that time just stuff that shouldn’t be done to a 4-year-old” you bite your bottom lip “the only thing that I can remember vividly is that every chance he got he let me know how good my blood smelled. It’s like vanilla and cinnamon he said.”

Jeongin sat silent as tears streamed down his face, his hand over his mouth as he tried to process the information. You, his girlfriend, literally the only person he knew besides Felix that was the literal definition of happiness, had something so ugly done to you; yet he would have never known if that girl hadn’t mentioned your past. Your scars on your legs, torso and arms come to his mind and he feels like throwing up. He believed you when you said you had self harmed, but now he’s realized they came from a serial killer. He felt like he was going to throw up, you were tortured. He felt like he could cry, how have you been okay all this time. “I know it’s a lot to take in so…I can give you some time” you whisper as you turn to leave. You feel Jeongins hand on your wrist “I don’t need time” his voice cracking “it’s just—can I hold you?” You nod as you feel him wrap his arms around you “Im so fucking happy you survived that baby I’m sorry I didn’t know and I’m so fucking sorry I made you talk about it” he cried you shake your head “don’t be sorry, I wanted to tell you just not like this. I love you I didn’t want you to look at me differently” he pecks your lips “I would never look at you differently or pity you okay? I know that’s what you would probably think but I don’t. Im so happy I met you and that your mine and I’ll make sure you’re never hurt in anyway ever again” you smile at him “I know baby I feel safe when I’m with you”

[judysxnd]

Hi beautiful

Can you please write a pedro×reader where they are fighting really seriously and suddenly kisses the reader and things get spicy...

And acn you please write it long?

I am in this phase where I see Pedro has a dad. So I’m going to write the plot I have in mind, that thank god corresponds to this.

I hope it was long enough! I don’t think I have ever written something that long!

Warnings: swearing, hand job, unprotected sex

Minors DNI

——————————————————————————

Having a personal life in the middle of a social career is not easy. Even difficult. Whatever you do, whatever you say, you are always watched, everything gets twisted, and it’s just.. drama. That’s why you and Pedro, when you finally started dating, decided to stay private. And that’s still been going on after all these years.

Let’s settle everything. You’ve been dating Pedro for four years. You met through a mutual friend, who was your roommate. You immediately had a good chemistry, but nothing ever happened. No one could deny that there wasn’t any tension, but you both stayed friend for at least a year before something happened.

Neither of you planned that infamous night where everything went down (literally). You had a nice little party at your place, I mean, it was just a few friends. One too many drinks and.. yes. You ended up having sex. One super great night that both of you remembered and liked very much. That’s why you kept doing it. You both decided to become friends with benefits, and it was going on good! Buuuut it only lasted a month. And, much to your surprise, it wasn’t because of you. Pedro caved. If it hadn’t been him, you would have given in shortly after.

So you started dating. And it’s been amazing. You’ve been having the greatest time of your life. You both handle very well the distance, keeping communicating a lot, sometimes visiting each other on either sets. And let’s not forget that you are having the best sex ever. You’re good, he’s good, together you make the best. And it went on. A year. And a second year. Which brings us to some defining moments. Because yes there were two very close.

The first one is Pedro proposing. Two years in the relationship and your love is only growing even more. You are obsessed with each other, you’re literally never felt that before. And Pedro decided to lock this, making it official. You were in Morocco. Pedro loved it so much when he filmed gladiator that he wanted to show you. He had planned everything. He rented a magnificent like little palace for your trip, with this amazing view on the ocean. As he knows you absolutely love sunsets, and arranged a little romantic dinner on the beach, and proposed when the sunset was at its peak.

Unfortunately the fantasy was cut short, you had to go back in reality, and go back to work. Two weeks after coming back, you started to get sick. You had nausea, morning sickness, and you were extremely tired. When you saw it wasn’t going away, you went to see your doctor. Surprise! You’re pregnant. Big news. How to tell Pedro? He proposed two weeks ago, with you careers, the age gap, and the fact that neither of you actually want kids, how could you drop the news?

You decided to be direct. Communication was one of the best thing in your relationship. You could talk about everything, either serious or not. You both said things to each other that neither of you had told before. He was home before you, so it all happened very quick. You didn’t have time to think. When he asked about your doctor’s appointment, you dropped the bomb.

Pedro was very comprehensive but it has been a lot on him. At his age, having a kid, it’s not easy. Even if he’s great and would actually love the idea. But it involved so many things. Both of your careers, the living situation, handling the media parts. And after listing the pros and cons, you made this huge decision.

To your next appointment, you found out you were two months pregnant. The baby’s gender couldn’t be determined yet. It has been a lot of anxiety on the both of you as this was unexpected, but since you decided to keep it, you’ve actually both been pretty excited. Pedro was already thinking about names. But there was one thing you couldn’t stop thinking: the media.

It has been taboo to talk about it actually. You managed to keep it together after two years of dating, only facing some rumors, but nothing more since neither of you ever denied or confirmed anything. You were even playing with it, going out in town with some friends and being very close to some, dodging paparazzi, you were into it. But now it was getting more complicated, you were adding a baby. Since no one knew you were together, how could you pop out one day either pregnant or with a baby in your arms?

You had lots of arguments, but decided to worry about it when the baby was born. So you went awol during your pregnancy. You were posting pictures here and there, some stories; making sure no one could see the rest of your body. And it was fun, all this secrecy.

Month number seven: you couldn’t take it anymore. You wanted to know the gender of the baby. You managed to go for all this time since at every sonogram the baby was turned in a way that you couldn’t see, but it finally happened at your monthly check up. It’s a girl! Oh the look on Pedro’s face. He lit up. Excitement took over.

You decided that you wanted your kid to grow up in the countryside and not closed in between four walls in an apartment, so you started to create and build your own house. Talking about the wolf, baby girl decided to show up two weeks late, and was born at 1:57am on the 31st of July at home. And there she was, Sofia Veronica Y/l/n Pascal. Healthy baby. You’ve both been filled with nothing but happiness. No regrets whatsoever, even when she wakes up at night crying.

Sofia is two years old, currently running in the house with her teddy bear in her arms, probably having some sort of runaway. You’re on the couch, on your phone, scrolling on Instagram. Pedro is in the kitchen drinking his coffee, leaning against the counter, pretending to almost get hit by Sofia when she runs past him. Everything was peaceful, a beautiful sunny day as the house filled with laughter, up until you saw this picture of a famous friend of yours, at Disneyland with their kids. You sighed.

“Pedro” you said slowly turning towards him. He hummed, his eyes following your daughter. “Why don’t we go somewhere with Sofia?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like a park or something” he finally looked at you, sipping from his coffee.

“You know we can’t”

“I know, but maybe this one time we could?” He walked to the counter closer to you.

“Cariño if you want to go with her you can”

“I want to go together, as a family” you sat up, facing him entirely

“We agreed to this” he started to sound dry

“And I’m changing my mind”

“You can’t just do that”

“Why not?” He didn’t say anything “please express yourself, tell me why not” you got up

“We can’t risk it, for her sake” he said pointing to Sofia, now looking at the both of you before starting to run again.

“I dont think there’s anything to risk”

“Really? Really? We’re going into this again?” He started to raise his voice

“Yes. I think we should. Because I think it’s going insane” he scoffed “for fuck sake’s, we’re taking turns going outside with her, and we they see you with her you just pretend she’s your niece or something” he kept shaking his head

“We need to keep her privacy”

“It doesn’t mean we can’t do anything together!” You walked a bit closer to him “Jesus! She’s two years old and we never took her to a fun fair or something!”

“She’s two, she won’t remember anything”

“Oh my fucking god. I cannot believe it.” You lower your voice a bit “it’s not about remembering, it’s about being a fucking family. She needs to see the world, with us, to learn!”

“And what about the paparazzi? Oh no wait you’re right. She’ll learn how to be fucking harassed, having no privacy, being followed at her every movement, being talked about and shamed on the internet”

“Are you scared for her or for yourself?” He stopped and stared at you “that’s what I thought” you said going back to the couch

“Oh don’t twist it, it’s not about me it’s about her”

“Oh no it’s about us, and how you don’t want you career to be over just because I’m twenty years younger than you and that you got a fucking child with me” you sat down on the couch, not facing him anymore. You couldn’t take it anymore. Tears were starting to form under your eyes. You heard Pedro walk to you.

“Are you really thinking that?” He was now standing in front of the couch

“It doesn’t matter that’s how they’re going to see it” you crossed your arms, looking on your left outside.

“That’s not true”

“Then what is it? Why can’t we take a walk outside, the three of us, as a family? We chose to handle our careers and a child. We knew the risks, we can’t just avoid them” you stood up.

“She’s too young for that, maybe when she’s older!” And it went back to where it started, like he didn’t listen.

“So what, in the mean time she stays inside the house until she’s at least 10? So what, she doesn’t go to school? I bet you didn’t even think about-” Pedro stepped closer to you and in a sudden move kissed you, putting both his hands on your face. After a few seconds he pulled away

“Can we just settle down for a minute?” He softly asked. Still processing what just happened, you nodded. He kissed you again, this time more gently. You both gave in, keeping kissing each other more and more passionately by the second, until Sofia screamed. You both turned your heads to look at her. She was standing next to the couch, with a big smile. You both smiled at her, getting calmed just by looking at her.

“Young lady, isn’t it time for your nap?” She shook her head. You looked at your watch. “I think it is!” You started to move but Pedro stopped you.

“I’ll do it, stay here” he kissed your forehead, and chased Sofia who didn’t want to go the bed. Twenty minutes later he was back. “She fell asleep almost right away” he chuckled.

“I’m not surprised, she’s been running around for a while” you were sitting on the couch, and Pedro sat next to you.

“So.. where we were” he said, hand on your thigh, sending a wave of shivers down to your core. But you decided to ignore for now. You were mad, you had a point to make, you couldn’t think about this now.

“We need to do something, like literally, we can’t stay hidden like that”

“I know but I don’t want her to be traumatized or something”

“But maybe nothing will happen?” You looked at each other. “The only time we got very close to them it’s only when we go to restaurants at night. We just.. won’t do that”

“I don’t know..”

“Pedro we need to do it”

“I need to think about it”

“We just did” you were starting to get impatient again

“Y/n”

“Let’s just try!” He didn’t say anything. “Or let’s make an official statement, like we publish something on Instagram or something”

“We need to talk to our publicist first” you sight

“Come on..” you got up “I just want to do something spontaneous for once, don’t you understand?”

“I do! But we knew what we were getting into in the first place!” You sighed, looking at him.

“I don’t even know why we keep arguing honestly” you shook you arms. Pedro just stared at you, then suddenly he got up and kissed you roughly. “Pedro..” you said in between kisses.

“Tomorrow we’ll go out okay?” He said, leaning his head against yours. You were staring at his lips, a little out of breath.

“You sure?”

“Yes” you looked at each other before kissing him more passionately this time. His hands travelled for your face this your waist as he brought you closer to him. “I don’t want to lose you because of some shit”

“You’re not losing me” you said, caressing his face. You kissed him softly. He started to step back towards the couch, pulling you in with him. He sat down on the couch, grabbed your thighs pulling you on top of him. “We’re going to get through this you know, we just need to find something that we both agree on” you said

“I know I know” he nodded, his hands going up and down on your thighs. You went for another kiss that ended sloppier and lasted longer. His hands got up on your waist and started to lift your shirt which ended somewhere in the living room, leaving your chest exposed.

Pedro got away from you lips, kissing your jaw, your neck, and ended on your breasts. The feeling of his touch, his lips on you made you shiver. Moans were escaping your mouth and so was Pedro. He was humming against your skin, making vibrations that were turning you on too much. You were growing impatient.

“Pedro please” you begged for more. He pulled away, looking at you, your lips. He took off his shirt and pulled you in for another kiss. The tension was very sensual now. You weren’t feeling the anger anymore. The frustration was gone within seconds. You started to grind on him was you were eager to feel him. Pedro groaned in response.

He pulled you up and laid you down on the couch, taking your shorts and underwear off at the same time. He came back up leaving trails of kisses on your thighs, going left and right, teasing you more. He put his hand down your core and started massaging your clit making you gasp.

“Oh yes” you managed to say, moving your hips to follow the movements of Pedro’s hand between your legs. Your back was arching to the many feelings you were having. He shifter his hand, entering one then two fingers you, leaving his thumb to move on your clitoris. “Pedro” It wasn’t enough, you wanted more, you wanted feel him inside you. But it was hard to talk.

“Talk to me” he said kissing your stomach

“I-I want you”

“I’m right here” you chuckled “tell me what you want” he said accelerating his movements.

“You- I- oh my god” he was now kissing your neck again. Your hands were in his hair. “I want you inside me”

“That’s my girl” he said now looking at you, smirking. You pulled him in for a languorous kiss, as your hands were now trying to pull his pants and boxers down, squeezing is ass at the same time. You earned a moan from him. He pulled away as your orgasm was rising.

You watched him move, sit down on the couch then take his clothes off, before coming back closer to you. He kissed you again as he pressed himself against you, feeling his cock against your heated clit. You were both moaning in the kiss. You pushed him away a bit, lowering your hand to his cock and started to tease him a bit, getting him worked up too.

He quickly couldn’t take it, so he grabbed your hand and moved it away as he centered himself to your entrance and slowly and surely entered you. He started with a slow pace, taking his time. His right hand went back to your clit as he started go a little bit faster. You were trying to contain your screams as you were reaching your climax, but you couldn’t anymore. It was so intense that none of you could form any sentences. He started to slow down a bit, before pulling out and coming on your stomach, his hand still working on you to get you to your orgasm.

Both panting, you took your right hand to your stomach and with one finger you wiped his cum before licking everything. Pedro watched you very closely. Still hovering over you, he kissed you passionately, then he kissed your forehead before leaning on top of you. You were caressing his hair and back softly while his hands we were resting on your waist.

“I love you so much” he said, breaking the silent

“I love you more”

You laid there for a while just resting, until Sofia woke up. Pedro went to get her, change her and everything. When he came back in the living room again, he was holding a bag in his hand.

“What is this for?” You asked as you put your phone away

“Spontaneity” you frowned, confused

“Care to explain?”

“There’s a small park not far from here, I thought that.. maybe we could go?”

“Are you serious?” You stood up

“Yes. It’s small but-”

“No it’s great! Let’s start small!” You were excited. You hugged him tight. “Thank you so much” he kissed your head, then you both left to the park with your daughter.

[delicate-luv]

Two Become One ~ Chapter Three

Summary: After finding out some secrets about Eddie’s past, he makes you an offer you just can’t refuse.

CW: 18+, Minors DNI, mention of murder, fluff, angst, jealousy, quickly proofread, brief mention of smoking, drinking, mention of nausea

Masterlist———————————————————————

Later that night, you and Scarlett were sitting and having a drink while watching the news. She lowered the volume and turned to you.

"So.. what happened with this guy? Did you find out about the whole home wrecker situation?"

"No. He does have a son. I saw him. Scar, I did something bad. He told me he's not married anymore. I think I broke up their marriage."

"Sure. You can't just get divorced overnight. These things take time."

"You can still tell people that you're not married if you're in the process of getting a divorce." You crossed your arms and leaned back on the couch.

"I think you should go talk to him again tomorrow. Really get to know what's happening and who he is."

You agreed in silence, knowing it was your only option. You needed closure.

She took a sip of wine. "What did you tell Ezra? How did he feel about this?"

"Ezra? Oh, shit. I haven't talk to him since we got in that fight." You rested your hand on your forehead. "I think it's safe to say that relationships over.”

"Are you serious? Girl, you need to get on this."

"I can't tell him. Not right now."

Early the next morning, you headed over to Eddie's trailer. A car was pulling out of his driveway as soon as you were pulling in. It was just something small that caught your attention.

As soon as you arrived, you saw him sitting on his front steps, shirtless, smoking a cigarette. He was only wearing a pair of black shorts. You couldn't help but feel a little bit hot when you saw him.

He heard footsteps on the grass and glanced over.

"Great. You again." He groaned. “I just got rid of last night’s hookup, now here you are.”

"Eddie, I need closure." You weren’t even going to dare to go down the route of his comment about ‘last nights hookup’. But you felt jealous. Extremely jealous. It wasn’t your place, though. You weren’t in a relationship with him, you had no control over what hookups he had over.

"Pretty girl, I don't owe you any closure. What happened between us- that was nothing." He brought the cigarette up to his lips once more. “You don’t stop, do you?”

"My name isn't 'pretty girl', so stop calling me that. How come you didn't tell me you had a son? And where is his mother? I need answers, Eddie."

"I'm going to expect you to come around here everyday until I tell you my whole life story. Right? You leave me no choice...Sit down."

You sat down on the front steps right next to him. “I’m listening.”

"My friend, Steve, takes care of Otis, my son, while I'm doing shows and away. Otis's mom...she's..." he stared at the ground for a minute, "let's just say it's only me and Otis around here. I didn't tell you I had a son because you didn't deserve to know. I was married to Otis's mother for only about a year. I thought she was the love of my life. She left right after she gave birth to him."

After you heard this, you immediately felt like it wasn't your place anymore. "you can stop now."

"No. I want to talk about it." He continued, "It's been 2 years and I haven't seen her since. Jesus, he's turning 3 soon and she won't even be here for that." He sighed and put his face into his palms.

"I'm sorry."

"No, I'm the one who should be sorry. I'm a fuck up." Eddie was getting angrier, he stood up and put out his cigarette.

"Don't say that." You stood up as well.

"It's true. My son won't have a mother, and it's all my fault. He only has me. I'm not cut out for this." You could see small tears forming in his eyes. You rubbed his shoulder until tears started to fall.

Unexpectedly, he forcefully grabbed you into a hug and started to sob. The anger turned into sadness that he could no longer hold back.

"I don't know what to do.” he said through loud sobs.

You hugged him back. "I'm here for you. If your son didn't have you, he'd have no one. That's better than having nobody at all."

"I don't know why you're being so nice to me." He mumbled as he wiped away tears.

“Because…I’m good at being the bigger person. Plus, you deserve it just as much as the next guy.” You gave him a warm smile while continuing to rub his shoulder.

He finally calmed down and was able to wipe all his tears away. "I know I don’t know you that well…but would you wanna go on a date with me? Please?" He seemed sort of desperate. Very desperate, actually. "I haven't been out with someone since she...y'know."

You just couldn't resist that offer. "Okay. You're arguably one of the most attractive men I've ever seen. Even when you cry."

You both laughed, giving each other one last hug. “Come over at 7.”

You stared into the mirror, putting on your pearl necklace before heading over to Eddie’s. Your white dress with pink roses complimented your body perfectly. The entire time you got ready, you could only think about how deprived of love Eddie must be. It hurt you to even think about what he had been through.

You had no idea what Eddie had to mind when he invited you over.

"You're lucky i'm not blindfolding you. You're not getting any hints." He smiled, not giving you any information. He led you inside, sitting you down on his beat up couch.

“I hope you’re not secretly a serial killer.” You joked.

"I promise, I’m not.” He laughed along with you, grabbing a beer out of his fridge. “Now, I promise we won't get too drunk like last time. You want one?”

“No I’m good, thank you.” You settled for a water. After getting black out drunk the other night, you had sworn off drinking for a bit.

“Pizza will be here soon. Sorry it’s not going to be a michelin star dinner.” He plopped himself down on the couch next to you.

“Pizza sounds great.” You really began to warm up to him in such a short amount of time.

He became closer to you, close enough you could smell his scent once more. It took you back to the very first night you met him. You were thankful you had worn your favorite perfume, assuming he could smell you too. He suddenly jumped up, rushing over to his record player. He had picked up his Billy Idol record and gently placed it onto the player.

“You know…I kind of love Billy Idol.” He shyly smiled. “Its kind of my guilty pleasure.”

You began to blush. He held you close as Eyes Without A Face began to play.

“C’mere, beautiful.” He rushed to stand, holding his hand out for you to take. He wrapped his arms around your waist and your arms were placed delicately on his shoulders. He began to move slowly to the song, moving your body with his.

When I’m far from home

Don't call me on the phone

To tell me you're alone

“I think this is what I needed-some time with you.” He spoke in a low whisper.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He began to blush and went quiet for a moment, “You’re amazing.”

“I like it when you’re nice.”

“Oh yeah? Maybe I’ll just have to be nicer from now on.”

Eyes without a face

Got no human grace

You’re eyes without a face

Your heart was pounding in this moment. It was only you, him, and the music. Your bodies moved as one around his small, carpeted living room floor.

Now I close my eyes

And I wonder why

I don't despise

As the song came to a close, your bodies began to slow down, slowly coming to a complete stop. He was staring into your eyes, and you stared into his. You hadn’t realized he had the most beautiful brown eyes until now. You could admire them for hours. He began to inch closer, eventually kissing you on the lips. It felt so brand new, but also so familiar, almost like you had the privilege of kissing the same lips in a past life.

He nervously pulled away. “Sorry. Was that okay?” It was quite sweet to see him be such a gentleman, even though he’s a rockstar. He wasn’t taking any stereotypes, and that made your heart flutter.

You nodded rapidly. It was more than okay. He pulled away, flipping through a shelf of DVDs on the wall. His fingers landed on a copy of Dirty Dancing.

You let out a loud gasp. “That’s my favorite movie!”

“Of course it is, sweetheart.” He chuckled. “This was my uncles favorite movie. It was obvious too, he was a big softie.” He clapped the DVD case against his palm.

“Oooh, can we please watch it?”

He sighed in defeat, but deep down he was still content on doing anything to make you happy. “Sweetheart, will you do me the honors of watching the shittiest movie ever made with me?”

“I’d be honored.” You got comfortable on his couch while he put the movie on. “But, don’t disrespect this movie again or else we’ll have problems.” You only half joked.

“Sure.” He cuddled up on the couch next to you.

Eventually, the pizza arrived and you snuggled up and ate together. The smell of the pizza almost immediately made you nauseous but you didn't think anything of it. The pizza was really greasy, and grease didn't sit well with your sensitive stomach. Everytime you would see Baby dance with Johnny, it reminded you of dancing with Eddie. How that moment that just occurred made you feel like one. It made you feel enchanted.

You had a fun night, and just like Eddie promised, he only had one drink.

It was around 11 p.m when the movie ended, you and him decided to wrap the night up.

“Stay the night? I promise I’m not drunk so I’m well aware of what I’m doing.” He slithered his hand into yours.

"I’ll take your word for it." You we’re beginning to walk into his bedroom until he stopped you.

“Wait, before we head to bed. I dropped off Otis at my friend, Steve’s house.” He stood up from the couch, bringing you up with him. “I gotta go pick him up. You wanna come with? You’ll really like Steve, he’s my best friend.”

[king-starscreams-fics]

World Building

Sicknesses mentioned (so far) in my stories

Colds/flu: congestion of air intakes that is uncomfortable but not overly serious, as they tend to resolve themselves with rest and medgrade. Coughing/sneezing is enough to keep the intakes clear enough to cycle air. These illnesses are caused by the same germs – "flu" is harder to clear than a cold and therefore results in overheating and the more serious symptoms that that often brings.

Cold symptoms:

Congestion of facial air intakes

Minor congestion in chest intakes

Coughing/sneezing

Sore vocaliser

Sensitive/runny optics

Helmache

Flu symptoms:

As above but with additions:

Fever (see below)

Thick, stubborn congestion

Harsh cough with violent fits

Pneumonia: caused by the same germs as colds/flu, but much more dangerous. Chest intakes become severely and dangerously congested. Coughing/sneezing does nothing – often, the sufferer is not even able to cough or sneeze to begin with.

Pneumonia symptoms:

Fever

Constant urge to cough that comes to nothing

Wheezing

Difficulty talking

Difficulty cycling air through facial (sometimes referred to as "upper") intakes

Chest intake fans unable to move or else make scream-like noises when trying to function.

Fever: impossible to regulate temperature due to various possible problems or ailments.

Fever symptoms:

Dangerously high internal temperature, causing tanks to purge anything that could catch fire or explode (excessive vomiting)

Fatigue/exhaustion

Chills

Pains in joints and pistons

Dizziness

Disruption of septic tank functions, resulting in possible "spillages" (incontinence)

Minor self-repairs become difficult to maintain

Physical sickness: illness that causes purging of fuel. May or may not be accompanied by fever. Usually caused by fuel sensitivity or consumption of contaminated fuel.

Sickness symptoms:

Nausea

Purging

Helmache

Tank pains

Dizziness

Septic system impairment

Inability to swallow (in severe cases)

Inability to keep even high quality coolants and oils down (in severe cases)

Fever

Migraine: severe helmache which can last days and leaves the sufferer severely impaired and unable to carry out even basic tasks.

Migraine symptoms:

Intense helm pain

Fuel sensitivity

Purging

Light sensitivity

Optic pain

Visual impairment

Audial receptor impairment

Audial receptor pain

Inability to concentrate

Sneezing (in some cases – caused by pain in helm, which may be misinterpreted as pressure/inability to cycle air in facial intakes)

Psychological shock: severe reaction to stress/fear. Can last hours or take weeks/months to resolve, depending upon situation.

Shock symptoms:

Confusion

Startling easily

Difficulty communicating

Self-loathing

Self-doubt

Lack of independence

Feeling chilled

Shivering – often coming in violent bouts

Chest intakes working harder than usual, despite the sufferer already feeling cold

Nausea and purging

Septic system impairment

On Cybertron, these ailments have their own names. However, it is easier for humans to understand the concept of an illness when a Cybertronian uses human terms for them.

[nurse-buckley]

Whumptober Day 2

Title: Healing Flames

Prompt: Thermometer 

Word Count: 1,527

Characters: Evan Buckley, Eddie Diaz and Bobby Nash (mentioned) 

Pairing: Eddie Diaz x Evan Buckley (platonic)

Warnings: minor mentions of illness, nothing serious.

Summary: Buck is ill and it sucks, but he'd be damned if he lets that get in the way of his job Written for day two of @whumptober for the prompt 'Thermometer.'

Tags: @firemedicdiaz @winterreader-nowwriter @iamasimpingh0e @dayrin085 @hauntedmilkshakeghost @floralbuckleys @alexxavicry @cm1031sr​ 

Authors notes: okay, but I actually love this fic just a little. I have been struggling with writing and finding motivation and I just adore this, I hope you do too! Thank you so much to the amazing @firemedicdiaz for putting up with my constant stream of nonsense and for reading over this for me <3

Buck woke with a groan to the sound of his alarm blaring. He’d been feeling like death warmed over the last few days but had stubbornly brushed it off when Eddie noted he’d looked a little pale the last time they were together. Truthfully he thought a nap before his shift would have cleared the worst of it but he felt worse than he had before. He ripped the covers off himself and swung his legs over the side of his bed, fighting the nausea and dizziness the movement caused. 

He’d have called in sick but he didn’t want to let the team down and didn’t want anyone to think he was weak or incapable because of a little sniffle. 

“You look like shit.” 

“Thanks, just what a guy wants to hear,” Buck replied a little more harshly than he intended. 

Eddie stopped him with a hand on his shoulder as Buck made a move to walk around him, “Buck, I’m being serious. You should go home if you’re not feeling well.” 

“I’m fine, I just need some coffee.” 

Knowing he wasn’t likely going to get through to him, Eddie decided to drop the matter. He trusted Buck but he also knew how stubborn the man could be so decided to keep a close eye on him throughout the shift, just in case. 

As Buck sat on the sofa nursing his cup of coffee, he hoped for a quiet shift.  It was quiet for the first few hours but luck was not in his favor. The alarms blared through the station, signaling an emergency call. The team scrambled to their feet, adrenaline being the only thing carrying Buck as he followed close behind his team.   He joined them as they changed into their turnouts and climbed onto the engine following them without a second thought. 

Buck tried his best to not zone out as he listened to the information Bobby relayed to them as they raced down the streets. When they arrived on scene, Buck felt a little more awake as he took in the situation, the adrenaline and coffee helping to keep him focused on the task at hand.  

As the team battled the raging fire and thick smoke, Buck’s energy waned rapidly. Eddie, keeping a close eye on him, could tell he was struggling. Thankfully, their time inside was almost up and they were due to swap with another team so he could get a good look at his friend. 

Buck staggered from the building, his breathing labored as he tore the helmet and mask from his face. Eddie was close behind, removing his own gear, clapping Buck on the back. Once he got a good look at Buck’s face he knew something was wrong. Buck was struggling to catch his breath, his face drained of color, and he could see the faint sheen of sweat that glistened on Buck’s skin in the glow of the fire that still raged behind them. 

“Come on, I’ve got you. We need to get you checked out.” Eddie’s voice was firm and left no room for argument. 

With no opportunity for excuses and no energy to put up a fight, Buck nodded reluctantly. Eddie wasted no time as he looped an arm behind Buck’s back and half-dragged him to a waiting ambulance.  He sat Buck down on the edge of the vehicle and waved off the paramedic who’d been waiting to check their vitals. “Buck, we need to get you out of this coat so I can get a look at you.” 

He helped Buck shrug off his gear and grabbed one of the kits before he reached in in search of a thermometer. He held the device up in front of Buck and they exchanged a look, knowing he wasn’t going to be able to hide how bad he actually felt for much longer. 

“I’m just going to check your temperature,” he explained as he held Buck’s chin to steady him and swiped the device over his forehead. 

When the device beeped, Eddie glanced at the readout and swore under his breath. It was higher than he’d even feared. 

“Buck… you’ve got a fever.” 

A pang of guilt washed over Buck as he heard the concern in Eddie’s voice, hating that he was the cause of it. His body slumped forward slightly as he finally let his guard down, relieved to not have to hide anymore as the exhaustion finally took over. 

“Buckley. Diaz. I need an update.” Bobby’s voice crackled through their radios as he waited for word on their condition and if they could go in again. 

“Buck’s out. I’ve got him, but he’s in no fit state to go back in Cap. He’s done for the night,” Eddie replied. 

With their captain informed, Eddie set to work getting a better look at his friend. He shrugged off his own turnout before he climbed on board the ambulance and got Buck settled on the gurney. Buck’s pulse was racing and his skin was dry; coupled with the fever it was easy to spot the signs of dehydration. 

“What do you say to some fluids?” Eddie asked. He wasn’t about to give Buck the option as he gathered the supplies he needed for an IV. 

While the fluids ran through and Buck got some color back, Eddie gave Bobby another update about his condition. Bobby, concerned for Buck’s wellbeing, instructed Eddie to let the fluids run through and get him back to the station to rest. 

Eddie sent his reply and then turned his full attention back to Buck as he settled down on the bench next to the gurney to start on another set of vitals. 

“Why didn’t you tell me it was this bad? Do you know how dangerous that was? You could have collapsed in that building Buck. You could have died.” A pained look came across Eddie’s face as he said the words out loud. 

Buck’s eyes fluttered open from where he was lying. “‘M sorry.” 

“You can trust me, you know? With anything.” 

“I know. Just didn’t want to let any of you down.” 

Eddie softened at Buck’s vulnerability, whether it was the tiredness or fever making him this honest, Eddie wasn’t sure. 

“Buck, it’s alright. You haven’t let anyone down. I’m gonna drive you home once those fluids run through, alright?” 

Buck nodded before he closed his eyes again and let himself drift off as the rest of the fluids ran through, helping him to feel at least half human again. 

Eddie made sure he was comfortable before he moved to the front of the ambulance, ready to take Buck back to the station and begin their journey back to his apartment. Bobby had made it clear that Buck needed to rest and Eddie was determined to make sure he did just that. 

Once the ambulance was parked back at the station and he was sure Buck was stable enough to move, Eddie got him situated in the passenger seat of his car still half-dozing. He grabbed a few extra supplies from the store room, some bags of saline and IV kits just in case, before he returned to the car. 

He drove them home with the utmost care. Occasionally he would glance over to check Buck was still doing okay. He looked so frail and vulnerable; a far cry from his usual bubbly self and their usual car rides home together. 

Once they pulled into the car park, Eddie helped Buck out of the car and up the stairs. Buck looked around for a minute, fuzzy as he got his bearings. “What…why are we at your place?” he asked, slightly confused. 

“Because, you’re going to rest and here is the best place for that where I can look after you,” came Eddie’s reply. 

Buck managed a weak smile as Eddie led him up the steps and into the house. Eddie settled him onto the sofa and immediately went to work as he fetched blankets and pillows to make Buck as comfortable as possible. 

“Now, you’re going to stay here and actually get some rest for as long as you need. I’ll be right here if you need anything.” 

“But what if you get sick too?” Buck almost whined. 

“It doesn’t matter, what matters is looking after you.” 

As the evening wore on, Eddie managed to get Buck to eat some soup and plain crackers and kept a watchful eye on him, checking his temperature on occasion and ensuring he got enough fluids. 

Buck drifted in and out of sleep, the fever still taking a toll on his strength and causing all sorts of weird fever dreams. Eddie was at his side the whole time, wiping his brow, checking his temperature, and helping him calm down after a nightmare. 

Eventually, his fever began to break and he woke up feeling slightly better and more human. He glanced around, forgetting where he was momentarily until he heard the soft snores of Eddie who’d dozed off on the armchair opposite him. 

Buck rose from his feet, unsteady for a moment before he grabbed a spare blanket and draped it over his friend. 

[gardensgatekeeper]

Watching Over - Part 2

Word Count: 1.9k

Notes: 18+ minors DNI! Swearing, mentions of nausea/sickness, anger/angst, mentions of cheating, mentions of death (non-graphic), fluff. Let me know if I missed any!

Izzie

“You haven’t heard yet? Jenny Evans was found dead by the Kokosing River lookout point this morning.”

The world felt like it immediately stopped. My knees buckled as my body felt like it suddenly weighed three tons and I subconsciously clutched the counter to hold myself up.

Jenny’s dead?

This had to be some sort of sick, morbid prank. Maybe someone thought it looked like Jenny?

Danny.

The visual of Danny leaving the house last night to go talk to her made my mind race. My stomach churned at the thought that he might have been one of the last people to see her alive. I tried not to entertain the thought that he could have had something to do with it, but I just couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling. 

Where is he? Does he know?

I quickly grabbed my things and told my coworker I needed to head out early, promising I’d cover for her later. The drive home felt like it took ages but I eventually found myself turning onto our street. I must have been too tired to remember not seeing his Jeep this morning, only recalling the memory as I pulled into the still empty driveway.

Racing inside, I dropped my bag and keys by the door and called out, hoping that maybe he was there. “Danny?” My voice wavered in an unfamiliar tone. My legs carried me to his room, only to find it unoccupied and untouched. Every other empty room I searched only made the dreadful feeling sink in that he wasn’t here. As much as I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt that maybe he’d been home while I was asleep or at work, it looked like he hadn’t come home at all last night.

The house that previously radiated a warm, welcoming presence suddenly felt cold and eerie. I paced around the living room, racking my brain for any logical reason that would explain Danny’s absence and this entire situation altogether. He wasn’t the type to just leave or disappear without letting someone know where he was.

I retraced my steps just in case I overlooked a note or anything that would explain where he could be. Something to rid the “What if?” thought in my brain.

Was he hurt, or worse, dead too?

I literally shook my head, trying not to jump to conclusions. Sitting in the chair adjacent to the front door, I stared blankly for what felt like hours, half expecting Danny to walk in at any moment and tell me what I needed to hear. The other half of me was still thinking this was just some nightmare that I would wake up from any minute. It wasn’t until the phone rang that I was quite literally scared out of my intense trance. Hopping up quickly, I picked the phone up off the receiver and answered.

“H-Hello?” I stuttered out.

“Hi, I’m looking for Isabella Rotterdam.” An unfamiliar man’s voice spoke through the receiver.

“Uh, this is she.” I replied back.

“Hello Miss Rotterdam, this is Sheriff Alan King with the Chesterville County Police Department. I’m sure you’ve probably heard by now about the tragic passing of Miss Jenny Evans. I was wondering if you could come down to the station for a bit and answer a few questions for us. You’re not in any trouble, we’re just trying to figure out what happened.”

My heart dropped to my stomach, the gravity and seriousness of the situation really sinking in now. I told him I’d be down as soon as possible before hanging up. Normally, Danny was my go-to person for any and everything. I wanted nothing more than to be able to confide in my best friend but that didn’t really seem to be an option at the moment, so I picked the phone back up and called the next best person.

“Hi sweetie! How was wo-” The cheerful voice sounded through the line.

“Mom.” She must have sensed my serious tone as she almost immediately was asking what was wrong. Surprised that she clearly hadn’t heard the news, I quickly filled her in.

“I don’t know where Danny is, and I don’t feel comfortable staying here alone tonight. Or at least for a few days, I just...I don’t know.” I sighed.

“Honey, you know you’re always welcome back home. You can stay with us as long as it takes to figure things out.” She reassured me.

“Thanks mom, really. I should probably go, They need me to answer a few questions down at the station. I’ll see you later.”

---

As I walked into the gloomy looking building, I was instructed by the receptionist to take a seat and the Sheriff would be out soon. The seating area was fairly small. Five chairs were centered around a beat up coffee table that had several random nature magazines strewn about. The faint radio chatter sounded eerie as I remembered why I was here in the first place. A chill ran through my body and I wasn’t sure if it was from the thought of Jenny being dead, Danny possibly being guilty, or the AC that was on full blast. Probably all three.

“Miss Rotterdam?” The familiar voice gained my attention. I stood up as he formally introduced himself. “I’m Sheriff King, we spoke on the phone earlier. Thank you for coming in, you can follow me this way.” He said as he led me down a small corridor with a bunch of doors that I assumed were offices of some sort.

One of the doors suddenly opened and the breath in my throat hitched as my blood ran cold at the sight. Accompanied by another officer, Danny stepped out into the hallway, his arms bound behind his back in handcuffs. Just as he was being led away, Danny turned his head and his eyes met mine. As cliché as it sounds, it felt just like in the movies where everything is in slow motion. He didn’t say anything and the expression on his face was completely unreadable; a look that I had never seen before. That terrified me.

Did he do it?

I felt the bile creep up my throat but quickly swallowed it down, shuddering at the utter disgust and discomfort at the thought that he could be capable of such a thing. It was impossible.

It wasn’t until Sheriff King cleared his throat that I turned my attention back to him and followed him again. Just before I entered the small room, I turned my head once more to see if I could catch a glimpse of Danny, but he was gone.

I sat in one of the two chairs positioned across from one another, a wooden table in between. As the Sheriff retrieved a small notepad and pen from the front pocket of his uniform, he offered me water and I gratefully accepted, thankful to wash away the taste of vomit lingering in the back of my throat.

After a brief moment of silence, he finally began with his questioning, starting by just confirming basic information like my name, occupation, and home address before moving on to more open ended questions.

“Can you walk me through your day yesterday?”

“Sure. Uh, I worked from 7-2 then me and Danny went over to my parents for dinner. We got back a little before 9 I think and Jenny called. I don’t know what she said but Danny left to go meet her. I pretty much went straight to bed after that since I had to work early again this morning.”

“Was that the last time you saw Mr. Wagner?”

“Danny. You don’t have to refer to him as Mr. Wagner.” I quietly offered. Hearing him referred to in such a formal manner felt so foreign. “But yeah. I’m not sure if he came back home while I was asleep. His car wasn’t in the driveway when I left for work this morning either.”

He nodded in response before continuing. “I assume that since you and Danny live together, you two are pretty close?”

“Yeah, he grew up a few houses down from my parents and we’ve been friends as long as I can remember. He’s practically my brother.”

“Right. Had he shared any information regarding his relationship with Miss Evans? Any recent disagreements?”

As much as I didn’t want to share the information I had, I couldn’t lie to the police, even if it didn’t help his case. I told him everything. He was still scribbling down notes and I couldn’t stop the words coming out of my mouth.

“Do you think he did it?”

He cleared his throat, sounding a bit caught off guard by my blatant question. “I do apologize Miss Rotterdam, but as the investigation is still ongoing, I’m not at liberty to discuss any details of the case.”

I hummed in response, wishing I paid more attention in Psychology in high school as if I would somehow be able to read his body language for an answer.

Soon enough, the interrogation came to an end. “Alright, I believe that’s all I have for you for now.” He retrieved a small card from his front pocket before handing it to me. “I’m sure this is a difficult time, but if you think of anything else, please don’t hesitate to give me a call. We’re here to help.” He offered, getting up to walk me out.

As soon as I exited the building, I found the nearest bush and emptied the contents of my stomach. I quickly composed myself before anyone saw me and returned to my car, immediately breaking down and crying, not knowing what to think anymore. This whole situation was so fucked. As much as I wanted to believe Danny wasn’t capable of such an act of violence, it didn’t help that he was with her last night. It just didn’t look good.

I gave myself a few minutes to pull myself back together again and drove back to the house to grab a few things while I stayed with my parents. I pulled onto our street and felt nauseous again when I saw two police cars parked out front. As I walked up the driveway, an officer walking out of the house saw me.

“I’m sorry ma’am, but this is part of an active investigation, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“I live here. I’m staying with my parents and just needed to grab a few things.”

The officer hesitated for a moment but soon nodded and told me to make it quick. So much for being sympathetic. I was in and out in five minutes, not wanting to stay in that house longer than I needed. Soon enough, I was pulling in the driveway at my parents. My mom immediately embraced me in a tight hug when she opened the front door. My dad soon followed, taking my things up to my old bedroom.

“Oh honey, I’m so sorry this is happening. How are you feeling? Are you okay?” She pressed.

“Danny was there, at the station. They had him in handcuffs mom.”

Her expression changed to a look of shock mixed with sadness. She wrapped her arms around me once again in a comforting embrace. “We’ll figure this out.” She whispered.

“I’m scared.” I said quietly, trying my best to hold back the tears that were threatening to fall.

“I know, but you’re safe here with us. Your father and I won’t let anything happen to you.” She offered.

“Thank you mom. I think I’m just gonna go lay down, I’m pretty exhausted.” She nodded and I headed upstairs, taking a quick shower, trying to scrub away the memories of today until my skin was red. As I laid down and waited for sleep to take over, I only had one thought running through my brain.

Did Danny kill Jenny?

✶ ✶ ✶

[hypotheticalhyacinths]

Trapped Chapter 3

DBD Albert Wesker/ AFAB Reader

18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Blood Play, Knife Play, Extremely Dubious Consent, Rape/Non-con Elements, Tentacles, Praise Kink, Blood Kink, Biting, Creampie, Character Death, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Hair-pulling, Broken Bones Needles, Manipulation, Virus, Torture

When you materialized back at the bonfire, you were met with concerned looks from your fellow survivors.

Chris was the first to speak, walking up to you with his brows furrowed, worry burdening his expression. "What happened?" He demanded, his tone just as serious as ever.

"I-"

You stopped. What the hell were you going to tell everyone? "I think I need a minute." You choked out, everything flooding back to you suddenly, making you feel claustrophobic, your throat tight.

You stood up shakily, the dirt uneven below your feet, and ran off to one of the cabins, leaving everyone else more confused than before.

You slammed the old wooden door behind you with a loud thud and slid down it's surface, trying to calm your breathing.

What the fuck?

You ran your hand through your hair to pull it out of your eyes, a deep, shaking exhale leaving your lips. "Okay... I'm okay..." You convinced yourself, speaking out loud to the otherwise empty room. You voice sounding like you were on the brink of tears.

What were you going to tell the others? The truth certainly wasn't an option.

'Hey guys sorry about that I was busy getting absolutely railed by the killer after you all died.'

Yeah that would go over great.

You got up unsteadily, stomach churning with anxiety as you went to check your reflection in the dusty mirror across the room. Nothing. No evidence of the trial. That would make your lie a lot easier. You took another deep breath and sighed. You would just tell them that Wesker chased you around until you found the hatch.You would have to tell them he gave you the head start, knowing Dwight would have told them Wesker was holding on to you when Dwight was taken from the trial. It's not like you would have overpowered the killer after all. Not an outright lie, but you left the important details out.

You took another deep breath. What was going to happen the next time you were in a match with Wesker?

A shiver overtook your entire body and you felt unease pull at your stomach, nausea bubbling in your abdomen.You needed to just get this over with and everything would be okay. As you started to turn around to leave the cabin door opened, nearly hitting you square in the face.

"Sorry! Didn't mean to barge in. Everyone is worried about you." Jill apologized, reaching out to put a gentle hand on your shoulder. It was warm in comparison to the freezing cold you felt creeping over your flesh. Her face fell when she saw you, concern lacing her words. "Woah, are you okay?"

"I'm alright, I was on my way out to explain. Was just an intense trial is all." You attempted to compose yourself and give her a small, albeit unconvincing attempt at a reassuring smile.

Afterwards, you had arrived back at the fire with Jill and sat down on one of the hard logs of wood, your folded hands fidgeting in your lap. You just had to breathe. "I'm sorry to leave everyone worried. The last trial was a little overwhelming." You began, your voice weak and hesitant.

"After Wesker made me watch Dwight die, he gave me a head start and told me to try and find the hatch." You explained, not daring to meet anyone's eyes.

"It was some kind of sick cat and mouse game I guess. Was just extra nerve wracking to be alone and I was scared what would happen if he caught me, given the first match I had with him is all. It was sheer luck that I found it before him." You shrugged, a dry laugh punctuating your confession.

You hoped that would be enough to abate the interrogation by the other survivors, risking a glance up to meet their gaze.

Most of them nodded, mumbling words of comfort or acknowledgement and you sighed, your hand coming up to hold your forehead as you felt the beginnings of a headache form on your skull.

"I know everyone has rough trials, I just need to toughen up is all." You followed your words with a small laugh, a feeble attempt to ease the tension.

Most of the survivors left it at that, sensing your unease, the rest of the night easing into the more casual conversations amongst some. As casual as things could get, given your circumstances you supposed.

However, you would occasionally glance over to Chris, who's eyes didn't seem to leave you for most of the night. Did he know something?

You felt your heart rate pick up a bit at the thought, anxiety pooling in your stomach. You couldn't even begin to think to handle the situation if he confronted you for more information.

Unfortunately for you, just like the Entity, the universe had a sick sense of humor.

Later that night when most survivors had retreated to the comfort of their cabins, you found yourself alone next to the fire, lost in thought.

Your back was leaning against the hard bark of one of the large, towering trees, light from the flames in front of you dancing across the ground.

No matter what you did you couldn't get the previous match's events out of your head. Firey irises pinning you under an intense gaze, gloved hands and inky black tendrils snaking their way across your form. The heat coming from the fire wasn't helping the irritating warmth creeping over your body at the though of Wesker's mouth on your skin, his body pressed against yours as he tore apart your psyche, one methodical touch after another.

Your solitude didn't last long when you were startled out of your daze by none other than Chris.

"It's a little late to be out here don't you think?" He questioned, walking up a little too close for comfort given your thoughts just seconds ago.

He was in his usual uniform, stubble just barley noticeable on his hard jawline, short dark hair falling messily over his head. He was intimidating to say the least, but in the dim firelight you felt fear begin to stir in your gut.

"I didn't think I could sleep. I just wanted some fresh air." You responded, doing your best to keep your voice even.

"Let's cut to the chase. I know something is up." He took another step towards you. His large form now easily at arms length.

"You do realize how hard it is to believe you escaped, right?" Chris's voice dropped an octave, suspicion evident on his features.

"Believe what you want Chris, I know Wesker was your captain but people become unpredictable in the fog. Maybe he had some ulterior motive. I don't know." You avoided his eyes, finding a pinecone on the ground to be particularly interesting at that moment.

Chis took another long step forward, now directly in front of you as he slammed a large hand onto the tree next to you. "Don't even begin to think that he wouldn't kill every single one of us in a heartbeat. You're still new here, but you should know the Entity's realm can't and won't change someone like him. I know that too well, which is why your little excuse isn't adding up. Wesker knows that map better than any of us and you think he wouldn't have found the hatch before you?"

You flinched when his hand had hit the tree behind you, pine needles falling down with the impact. What the fuck were you supposed to say to that? You felt cornered, wanting to shrink into the wood and disappear.

"I already told you what happened, and from what I can tell the Entity does change people. It changes them into assholes that would rather turn on the people around them, then stop to believe anything outside of what they believe to be true." You hissed, your nerves causing you to give a much harsher response than you intended.

You still weren't looking at him, which is why when you felt a firm hand on your chin, forcing you to look Chis in the eyes, your skin crawling when you saw his face.

"If you can look me in the eyes and tell me that a murderer willingly let you go, then fine. But just know that the next match we have together with /him/, I'm not letting you out of my sight." Chris's brows were furrowed, lips parted and breathing out angrily.

"You mean like last time?" You spat, tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

Chris's irritation faltered, his mouth opening only for him to sigh, his tense shoulders visibly slumping, hand falling from your chin.

"Look, Wesker is a menace. He wouldn't have let you go without something in return. I refuse to believe he can feel any sort of mercy, which means you he wants something from you."

Your words caught in your throat and you found it hard to breathe. You were about to retort when you saw someone place their hand on Chris's shoulder, his head snapping to see who the hand belonged to.

Jill once again had come to the rescue.

"Chris, let it go. She's had a rough enough time. She knows what kind of man we are dealing with."

Chris moved from his position in front of you, finally giving you the space to breathe.

Jill looked at you briefly before turning back to Chris "Regardless of whether or not his intention is manipulating her, it's not like any of us have much of a choice to fight it. We're trapped here. We do what we can to survive."

That's when you felt your stomach drop. She was right. You were just playthings for bloodthirsty killers, and an even hungrier Entity that fed on your suffering.

There would be no way out of this.

[rajmangalhospital]

Neck Pain Signs It's Time to Visit Your Orthopaedic Doctor

Back pain treatment in Pune

Neck pain is a common complaint that influencespeople of all ages and backgrounds. Whether it’s a dull ache, sharp pain, or stiffness, neck discomfort can significantly impact your daily life and productivity. While occasional neck pain is usually nothing to worry about and can often be relieved with rest or gentle stretches, there are times when it’s crucial to seek medical attention from an orthopaedic doctor. In this blog post, we’ll explore the various causes of neck pain and discuss when it’s time to schedule an appointment with a specialist.

Understanding Neck Pain

Before delving into when to visit an orthopaedic doctor for neck pain, let’s briefly examine some common causes of this condition:

Muscle Strain: Overuse of neck muscles, poor posture, or sudden movements can lead to muscle strain, resulting in discomfort and stiffness in the neck. Back pain treatment in Pune

Poor Posture: Spending long hours hunched over a computer or slouched on the couch can strain the muscles and ligaments in the neck, leading to pain and tension.

Degenerative Disc Disease: With age, the discs between the vertebrae in the neck can deteriorate, causing pain, stiffness, and reduced flexibility. Back pain treatment in Pune

Herniated Disc: A herniated or slipped disc occurs when the soft inner core of a spinal disc protrudes through the tough outer layer, pressing on nearby nerves and causing pain that may radiate down the arm.

Cervical Spondylosis: Also known as neck arthritis, cervical spondylosis is a degenerative condition characterized by the wear and tear of the cervical spine’s vertebrae and discs, leading to pain, stiffness, and decreased range of motion. Back pain treatment in Pune

When to Seek Orthopaedic Care

While minor neck pain often resolves on its own with rest and self-care, there are certain red flags that indicate a need for professional evaluation by an orthopaedic doctor:

Persistent Pain: If your neck pain persists for more than a week despite conservative measures such as rest, ice, and over-the-counter pain relievers, it’s essential to seek medical attention. Persistent pain may indicate an underlying issue that requires diagnosis and treatment. Back pain treatment in Pune

Pain Radiating Down the Arm: Neck pain accompanied by numbness, tingling, or weakness that radiates down one or both arms could signal a herniated disc or nerve compression. This condition, known as cervical radiculopathy, often requires medical intervention to alleviate symptoms and prevent further complications.

Difficulty Moving the Neck: Severe stiffness or limited range of motion in the neck may indicate a more serious problem, such as cervical spondylosis or facet joint arthritis. These conditions can cause significant discomfort and functional impairment, necessitating evaluation by an orthopaedic specialist. Back pain treatment in Pune

Neck Pain After Trauma: If your neck pain follows a traumatic injury, such as a car accident, fall, or sports-related collision, it’s crucial to seek medical attention promptly. Traumatic neck injuries can cause fractures, dislocations, or soft tissue damage that may require immediate treatment to prevent long-term complications.

Accompanying Symptoms: Neck pain accompanied by fever, headache, nausea, dizziness, or difficulty breathing warrants prompt medical evaluation, as these symptoms could indicate a more serious underlying condition, such as infection or spinal cord compression. Back pain treatment in Pune

What to Expect During Your Orthopaedic Visit

When you visit an orthopaedic doctor for neck pain, they will conduct a comprehensive evaluation to determine the cause of your symptoms and develop an appropriate treatment plan. This evaluation may include:

Medical History: Your doctor will ask about your symptoms, medical history, and any recent injuries or activities that may have contributed to your neck pain. Back pain treatment in Pune

Physical Examination: A thorough physical examination will assess your neck’s range of motion, strength, and reflexes, as well as any areas of tenderness or swelling.

Diagnostic Tests: Depending on your symptoms and clinical findings, your doctor may order diagnostic tests such as X-rays, MRI, or CT scans to obtain detailed images of the structures in your neck and spine. Back pain treatment in Pune

Treatment Options: Once a diagnosis is established, your orthopaedic doctor will discuss treatment options tailored to your specific condition and needs. Treatment may include medications, physical therapy, injections, or, in some cases, surgical intervention.

Conclusion

Neck pain is a common problem that can significantly impact your quality of life if left untreated. While minor neck discomfort often resolves with rest and self-care, persistent or severe symptoms may indicate an underlying issue that requires evaluation by an Orthopaedic doctor in Baner. 

By knowing when to seek medical attention for neck pain and understanding what to expect during your orthopaedic visit, you can take proactive steps to address your symptoms and regain comfort and function in your daily life. If you’re experiencing persistent or severe neck pain, don’t hesitate to schedule an appointment with an orthopaedic doctor for proper evaluation and treatment. Your neck health is too important to ignore. Back pain treatment in Pune

[smallnetbusiness]

How doxycycline ruined my life?

A popular antibiotic used to treat a variety of bacterial illnesses is doxycycline. But it does have adverse effects, much as many medications. Who would have anticipated that it would send me into such a chaotic cycle, though?  The tetracycline class of antibiotics includes doxycycline. It is often recommended by doctors and is a flexible drug that works for a variety of ailments, from cholera and Lyme disease to more serious ones like acne and urinary tract infections. It works by preventing the bacteria's ability to synthesize proteins, which prevents the development and multiplication of the bacteria. How doxycycline ruined my life? But just because it's used often doesn't imply everyone should use it. It affects each person's body differently, just like any medicine. While many people find relief without any problems, others like myself experience a maze of adverse effects. This emphasizes how important it is to comprehend drugs and more importantly to pay attention to our bodies. Because a one-size-fits-all approach to treatment sometimes leads to unanticipated results. My First Doxycycline Experience I felt like a godsend when I first began taking the medication. My symptoms drastically eased, but the happiness was fleeting. maybe the quiet before the storm? I saw a resurgence of energy and confidence in the first few weeks. The ongoing health problems that had plagued me seemed to be fading. The noticeable benefits were seen by friends and family, and life started to take on a happier tint. Lethargy in the morning, sporadic aches, and frequent aches that had been a normal part of my day were abruptly gone. I felt as if I had been given a second chance at life, and I was anxious to seize it. However, the original glow started to fade as days evolved into weeks. At first, changes were subtle—a stomachache here, an unexpected headache there. I made an effort to brush them off as minor adaptations in the hopes that they would go away as my body adjusted to the drug. But somewhere in the recesses of my mind, a small voice began to raise some doubts. I had no idea that this was just the beginning of a much longer and more complicated tale that Doxycycline had in store for me. The Silent Struggles, its Effects Despite its effectiveness, doxycycline may cause nausea, vomiting, and even photosensitivity in some people. However, are they the only problems? For me, no. My Conflict with the Side Effects of Doxycycline The response from my body was nothing less than a nightmare. Along with the physical symptoms, my emotional and mental health also progressively deteriorated. The Effect on Mental Health Both worry and depression It seems like you're confined to a room with no doors. It was debilitating to be filled with fear and grief all the time. Why wasn't I forewarned about this? Was I alone in this? Speak Up and Seek Assistance Asking questions, expressing worries, and getting second perspectives are all acceptable. My first step towards rehabilitation was speaking out. Recovery and Healing It's a difficult, protracted journey. Nevertheless, each journey begins with a single step. Will you take mine, I did. Acceptance and Forward Motion Although doxycycline briefly stopped my life in its tracks, it also helped me develop my resilience. The comebacks are what matters, not the failures. Why is Doxycycline so well-liked? Several important reasons that contribute to doxycycline's popularity include: Broad-spectrum antibiotic: Doxycycline is a broad-spectrum antibiotic, which means it works well against many different types of bacteria. This makes it a flexible option for doctors treating illnesses for which there is no obvious cause or who are awaiting the results of laboratory tests. Treatment Versatility: Doxycycline is used to treat a variety of ailments in addition to its ability to be broad-spectrum. Its uses are many and range from treating acne and rosacea to treating more severe illnesses including Lyme disease, respiratory tract infections, and even malaria prophylaxis. Cost-effectiveness: Doxycycline is often more economical than certain other antibiotics, making it a preferred option for both patients and healthcare professionals, particularly in environments with constrained resources. Convenient Dosing: Depending on the illness being treated, Doxycycline often may be given once or twice a day, unlike certain antibiotics that call for many doses throughout the day. It could increase patient compliance. Favorable Pharmacokinetics: Doxycycline has a long half-life, meaning it stays in the body for a longer period and requires fewer doses to be effective. Additionally, it successfully penetrates the tissue, which makes it useful against infections in many sections of the body. Antibiotic resistance is a problem for all antibiotics, however, Doxycycline has demonstrated, when administered properly, a substantially slower rate of resistance development than certain other antibiotics. However, Doxycycline has disadvantages just like any other drug. Physicians and patients must balance the advantages and dangers of a medicine's use due to the possibility of side effects, drug interactions, and contraindications in specific medical situations. As with other antibiotics, proper usage is essential to maximize efficacy and reduce the risk of resistance emergence. Conclusion Life is a mystery. Although the trip with Doxycycline was difficult, it forged a stronger me. Keep in mind that sometimes the conflicts we wage turn us into the protagonists of our tales. FAQs Is everyone harmed by doxycycline? No, each person has different side effects. It's crucial to keep an eye on your health and talk with your doctor. How can one deal with the Doxycycline side effects? Medical consultations, support networks, and self-care routines may all be beneficial. Exist substitutes for doxycycline? Yes, a variety of antibiotics are usable. Always get advice from a medical expert before making any decisions. How long does it take for the negative effects to subside? It differs. While some individuals heal fast, others may need more time. You must be patient and give yourself time. Can you immediately stop using Doxycycline? Before changing your medicine, always talk to your doctor first. Read the full article

[sabineelectricheart]

A Brash Man's Child

Summary: It’s Yuriko’s fourth pregnancy and it’s been hitting her hard. Junichi comes to her aid.

Rating: K+ - Suitable for more mature childen, 9 years and older, with minor action violence without serious injury. May contain mild coarse language. Should not contain any adult themes.

Words: 1700

Notes: All that horniness of those people, no birth control. Yuriko would spend most of her married life popping out kids.

“You are most beautiful, my love.” His voice whispered into her ear.

Yuriko shivered in a preintellectual state, still deep into the silent and undisturbed nothingness of her busy and late night. The lips that blew that breath were warm as they brushed against the burning helix, coaxing her as she woke from her hazy sleep.

Her lawfully-wedded husband’s head now rested just short of her neck, rather than directly behind it, a breath of air fanning onto the supple skin as Junichi laughed at her uplift of facial expression, just from hearing him again. It was cool, his breath, chilling, and cautioning to every tingling hair on her body, but somehow comforting in all that way. It was that voice that made every bit of her entranced, happy in a way she is not quite sure the human body should be able to process.

It woke her every morning it could, whenever a meeting did not take him out of the bed much too early for his comfort. It shared every laugh and every cry, it made promises of the future soon to be filled and it spoke promises of love like it was the only thing made for it to do. It read stories to their children in the back depths of the libraries and it lulled all of them to sleep at night.

His kiss was smeared into her neck after he spoke, damp and cool and soft. Just so like the pillows the servants had made sure of exchanging every few hours, fluffed with tender care. Featherlight, and smooth like the velvet coverings because, as the master of the household insisted, the lady cared far too much of the health of her hair, one now under his head too, upon his arrival late into the moons showing.

Her body, now curled comfortably underneath a sheer white sheet instead of nothing but her nightdress. Because, only he knew, that if even in the event of suffering a blinding heatstroke, she would have preferred the heftiest blanket available in the household than nothing at all. So, he asked for one to be brought in as he undid his tie, removing all articles of clothing, changing into night attire, and crawling into bed with her, her seemingly endless bodily heat being just enough for him.

Alas, Yuriko is not in a heat stroke, and heaven forbid that it would strike her at a moment like this. Simply fallen ill with a slight fever was exactly what caused him to make haste on his trip to Yokohama to handle business, and come back on the same leg to Tokyo, where she and the children reside.

She, the children, and the just ready to pop out baby forming the bump in her stomach, his arm wrapping around her front side so that the palm of his hand pressed nicely into the formation.

Whether it was over or underneath the sheet along with her, was no concern to her mind and eyes that could barely crack open with the sun jabbing at them through the curtain covering the window, only joy. Joy that Junichi was here now, and that she is not alone, riddled, overcome with both the fever and nausea and sickness that had arrived in a month’s time after she had found she was with child.

It took them both by surprise, how quickly it was she had needed to be relieved of her household duties and as his arm weight at parties, something that the woman noted with a deal of regret. As of recently, she is always retiring to her bedroom plenty of hours earlier than normal with every passing day and not attending to break her fast with everyone else without him, a maid or all three of her children at both of her sides and behind, helping her down the stairs all the way there.

Opting out of every single bit of that foolish leisure that she used to judge her mother so heavily for indulging, what once was the highlight of her days spent treated as though being pregnant rendered her unable to do anything by herself.

Not to mention her nocturne activities with her husband. Junichi was exceptionally competitive and she refused winning a game with outside help, so she would have to do it alone. Now, she is only exhausted by the mere thought of it.

Her other pregnancies were nothing like this, a mystery as to how she would throw up only once or twice every month and barely feel fatigued for too long, and illness would be so foreign, as though the babies growing inside her only offered divine protection from diseases.

And it all caught up to her at once, throwing her into a great fog of being hot, queasy, cranky, easily irritated, sleepy all the time, and breast so tender it hurt some to have proper clothes on. Constant backaches forcing her to bedrest, unresolvable wants for specific foods even out of Junichi’s reach, an aggravating fever that appeared right out of the air like magic, and everything in between.

Still clouded by that fog, choking up on it and weaving rasp into her voice, she opened her mouth to respond to him, “You flatter me, truly, but right now I am only unbelievably sick and looking like death warmed over. You should not be this close to me.”

Neither of them made a motion to move from their spots as Yuriko mumbled out the insincere words. It had been too long. Too long since her words were spoken out directed to him, and he was allowed to relish in the natural quirk of her lips as she did. Allowed to hear and feel nothing but the rise and fall of the others chest, sing songs and chirps of red kites and ravens swooping through the sky, and the tree leaves, causing friction as they brushed against each other every now and again.

Oh, and the smell, carried by the light wind, enough to make her teeth react before they had even the chance to puncture into the French delicacy, beignets. Better fit for an afternoon or even just once a week consumption for the amount of powdered sugar she has enjoyed with them since she was a girl.

Her children had, unfortunately, followed in her footsteps. The sound of three sets of feet padding through the house and creaky floor boards, increasing in speed once the cooks had spotted them attempting to steal one or two of the pastries. The other reason, of course, that he had only further attached himself to her, positioning his face into the view of her half-lidded eyes and face just so dulled of its warming colour. He was her husband, devoted in not abandoning her in her time of weekend health.

As she mustered up the biggest smile that she could, showing every white in her mouth, Junichi could do but nothing but sigh. His little lady shines as though God had plucked her from heaven and placed her into his arms himself.

“Don’t speak such things of yourself.” He reprimanded, light in his tone of voice but heavy in intent. “Angels are known to be some of the more beautiful things to graze this earth.”

The woman has to restrain a scoff. “Do you find me to be an angel?”

“I find you fit to be a defeasance covered in human’s flesh here to trick me.”

Yuriko could not avoid it this time. A laugh, a laugh he had not heard since his arrival, escaped her lungs as he accused her of such a preposterous thing.

“Well, tell that to the maid. She would not let me look in the mirror all yesterday.” Her face dropped back from the clouds at the remembrance, every single help asked to cover their reflective surfaces in her presence. “She said it wasn’t right for a pregnant lady to see oneself in such condition.”

It was an act of misguided kindness, one that taunted her head even after she had sternly asked for a handheld mirror and finally got a look. She was sickly, yes, but again not nearly comparable to the idea she had been conjuring up in her head.  

Junichi kissed her there, her head, as he saw his wife’s eyes start to well up, lips smothering themselves into the vast of dampened skin, fingers reaching to tuck back in the curls that had fallen out of her wrap and staying there as he breathed in her scent.

“Well then, that maid is a liar.” He spoke about the woman in revulsion, as if venom would swallow his tongue whole as it rolled off. “You are the most wondrous sight I’ve seen in all my life. And that has never changed, it never will.”

Yuriko rolled her eyes and tried to extricate herself from his hold, feeling uncharitable about indulging him in his lovesick delusion, but the man was as insistent and brash as the day she met him the third time at her parents’ home.

“Ah, ah, ah.” He tusked as she started shaking her head. “I want absolutely no resistance to my flattery when I say that. Besides, your sickness is derived from your pregnancy. I find it nearly impossible to imagine it would pass on to me."

“Fine, fine, yes. Thank you, Shiba, my love, for being able to cheer me up in the worst of times.” She swooned, hand over her heart and eyes soft as he smiled up at the heavens, which he considered a gift.

“I decided to take off from all of my work duties for the coming fourteen days to be more present here with you through this. And I’ve made it clear to everyone not to intrude, except for the maids and the children, who will probably find their way to us shortly.”

“The maids or the children?

“We’ll see who can beat who.”

Yuriko hummed in contentment, kissing his neck and gathering up enough energy to use her arms and pull Junichi closer down to her body.

“Then let us sleep a bit more before that. I’ve missed being this close to you.”

*_*_*_*_*

Butterfly’s Poison; Blood Chains Masterlist

[minifrenchfry-kabbit]

Her quiet purring became more pronounced when she felt her partner's arms wrap around her waist, tufted ears lying back in contentment as her eyes closed, letting her head drop against the smaller monster's, holding her close.

She let out a small huff, with a playful puff of her cheek when Luci stirred from their loving embrace, to voice her concern over her well-being.

She appreciated it, truly.. she did, but she also didn't want to squander their extra, hard-won quality time together over something so minor, probably just ate something that didn't agree with her, or.. her notorious late-night snacking was the culprit, it was nothing serious.

"I'm fine, babe. Just some on and off nausea, bit of a headache. Doesn't feel like The Plague of Yester-Year."

She put plenty of emphasis on the title, both verbally and with spooky woo-woo paws, before they returned to their proper place, holding her fiancée close, planting a kiss against the top of her mussy bedhead, with a purring nuzzle of a whiskered cheek.

"I feel better already, from your like.. miraculous cuddles. Should have been a healer, not a restaurant owner. ~"

She sighed gently at the unease she could still feel radiating off of her partner, her fluffy tail-tip lightly tapping in her lap, but otherwise still in its possessive curl, ears pinned back in guilt for making light of things, when she was genuinely worried about her.

"If it gets any worse, I promise I'll stay home. Okay?"

From X.

@olivethesecuties

When the feline had woken up with a small headache, plus a cresting rise and fall of fluctuating nausea, she was naturally, very reluctant to rise within the next hour or so.

When her fiancée began to stir and rolled over in their spooning position to face her, eyes still closed, Katrina couldn't help but drop her head onto her chest, and grumble her request for a lazy day-in, not exactly expecting Luci to try and grant it.

Tufted ears twitched when she felt her hands cupping her face, quiet purring starting up, complete with an affectionate nuzzle of her cheek against her stroking fingers, both half-closed eyes visible with her bangs being moved aside, able to quietly stare up at her companion, through her good, and blurred- defunct eye.

She smiled at the playful tap of her fingertip to her nose, but lamented the thought of letting the world burn in their bed all alone, with a muffled whine and outward stretch, arms wrapping around her mate to bury stubbornly in her side, fluffy tail swishing agitatedly beneath their blankets.

She otherwise remained quiet so Luci could conduct her calls in peace, opening her eyes and peeking up from her side when she delivered the news, it had sounded promising, but at the confirmation, she tightened her embracing grip, sitting up enough to pull her partner back against her fluffy, bare chest.

"I absolutely did not prearrange it, but bless Minnie and Lola. I gotta like.. get them something nice, or make sure to pick up shifts when they need it."

She nodded her head in compliance, her tail sweeping over to curl around her lover's lower half, carefully removing Luci's glasses to return to the nightstand, before framing her face against the soft pad of her paw, leaning in to pull her into warm kiss, with a soft giggle.

"I'll totes be ready to tolerate the world by the afternoon, promise.~"

[mod2amaryllis]

...ok. i really didn't wanna admit this but it's driving me nuts and i have to go public.

........i did watch the r*ngs of p*wer NOW,,.

HANG ON. gimme a chance. so,

jose and i love lord of the rings. it was the first thing that brought us together. watching it with our highschool friends was our meetcute of "omggg u also have appendices memorized??😳!" i was convinced trop was gonna suck also fuck amazon but jose's the most give it a chance man on earth like this dude loves everything but he especially loves lotr. he will take whatever he gets. so i was like sigh.... ok. you're gonna watch it anyway, I'll sit in, I'll give it a chance. to support my husband who i adore.

it's important to me that you understand this. that i was, definitively, NOT hate watching. i was going in with as open a mind as i could muster. and guys?

that shit sucked so so fucking hard.

ita bad! it was really really so bad. and i had to acknowledge that, ok, we will never get another good lotr trilogy. the formula that enabled the lotr to be such a gorgeous passion project will never come together that perfectly ever ever again, so i don't really wanna compare it to that standard. but this was like.... just bad television. just deeply unlikable stuff.

as i slowly started to pick up hints that even my loves-everything husband was, thankfully, not enjoying himself, i prodded with a, "i think the actors are doing their best with very very little to go off of" and he considered this, nodding and admitting, "yeah it's just okay." this, from jose, is about as scathing as it gets.

right away, the writing. it's bad. at times unbearably so, ranging from bursting out in laughter at the middle school level moments of triumph to looking away with literal nausea at the emotional beats. it's like a group of 19 year old male business majors minoring in anthropology got together and competed to see who could write the most moving speech, and there's your script. every word, delivery, expression is like they're saying the most dire thing that's ever been said. sometimes you get attempts at friendly banter trying too hard for charm, or commonfolk wisdoms, but mostly it's so so so serious guysss this is SERIOUS definitely the stakes are soooo high can't you tell by the way the actors' jaws are always clenched? nothing in middle earth has ever been so serious.

there's a boy and his mother (who's embroiled in a human/elf romance that lacks any of the tender, captivating distance between aragorn and arwen, but based on the music, we're definitely supposed to think it's on level). at one point when things are, again, Getting Serious, and she's like remember when you used to have nightmares as a kid? remember what I'd say? I'd say: In the end, this shadow is but a small and passing thing. There is light and high beauty forever beyond its reach. Find the light, and the shadow will not find you. ok, 1) did you? did you say that whole thing to your kid? yeah i bet you did sure bronwyn, and 2) this illustrates the most annoying pattern in every filmed lotr property beyond the original trilogy, which is the attempt to top the original trilogy. oh did you like that thing gandalf said? then you're gonna LOVE A THIS.

and galadriel. ohh galadriel. they girlbossified galadriel so hard I'd call it character assassination. it's egregious. personally insulting. galadriel is an interesting and powerful character who's simultaneously ethereal, feminine, calm and soft with moments of fury. well the trop writers saw that they were like hang on... she can't be powerful AND gently feminine that doesn't make sense. no. she has to be PISSED the HELL off!!! she's not like other elves. she's tough, she's gonna show these BOYS how to sword fight. also there's a hot MAN she's gonna have DYNAMICS with because, can't stress this enough, she is not like other elves.

they keep trying to make another "into the West" or "edge of night" like SHUT UP. SHUT UP. SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU WILL NEVER BE BILLY BOYD. YOU WANNA BE BILLY BOYD SO FUCKING BAD IT MAKES YOU LOOK STUPID. ENOUGH. the credits song on the final episode is just someone singing the one ring poem. literally. like it's the one ring to rule them all poem word for word set to a painfully obvious into the west copy.

there's so much more. and i swear on GOD i was trying to give it a chance. my mistake. i shouldn't have done that i was wrong i messed up by watching the r*ngs of p*wer i wish i could take it back.

but nobody else waste your search analytics. nobody investigate. just look at this tumblr post and know: it was as bad as you thought it'd be like don't even sweat it.