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rosieswriting · 6 days ago

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Barty Crouch Jr x Hufflepuff!reader

Summary: After the birthday of your dear friend, Pandora Rosier, Barty doesn´t seem as bad as he did before

Note: I took one of the request of reader "tutoring" barty not knowing he doesn´t need it by @treefairy-28 thank youuuu. And english is not my first language so it probably has some mistakes! And i will do a part 2 to where things get really interesting

Words: 3,2K

You’d always hated Barty Crouch Junior. Everything about him grated on your nerves—the way he spoke too loudly in class, yet still managed to top every exam; the infuriating pet names he used for you; his smug belief that being a Slytherin somehow made him superior, especially to Hufflepuffs like you. His walk, his talk—everything about him seemed designed to annoy you. Luckily, you’d always managed to ignore him. Until now.

You’d recently been paired with Pandora Rosier for a Potions project, and to your surprise, you’d quickly grown close. How had you not been friends before? She was sweet, caring, and easy to talk to—similar to you in so many ways. When her birthday rolled around, she invited you to a small celebration at the Three Broomsticks with her twin, Evan, and a few of his friends. Including him. You’d thought long and hard about it, knowing you’d have to deal with Barty, but in the end, you decided to go. After all, it was for Pandora, and you could always try to ignore him.

The Three Broomsticks was packed, busier than you’d expected. It seemed half of Hogwarts was out celebrating. Just as you were scanning the room, you heard Pandora’s cheerful voice calling your name.

“Happy Birthday!” you said warmly, pulling her into a hug and handing her a small box containing a silver necklace.

Pandora’s eyes lit up as she opened it. “Oh, I love this! Thank you so much,” she beamed, hugging you again. “Come on, we’re over here.”

She led you through the crowded room toward a cozy corner table. And, of course, as you approached, you saw Evan Rosier, Regulus Black and Barty leaning back in his chair, already watching you with that familiar smirk.

“Hi” you mumbled a bit shyly to the slytherin as you sat next to Pandora, and to your luck, Barty was seated right in front of you. Regulus and Evan gave you a slight nod of acknowledgment and continue their conversation.

“Look who decided to join us” Barty teased raising his eyebrows “Dindt think you would show up, Treasure”

“Barty” Pandora said with a warning tone to his friend, trying to shut him up. But he only raised his hands in self innocence and exuse himself with a poor “just trying to start a conversation”

“I wouldn’t miss Dora´s birthday just because I have to deal with you, Junior” you said with a fake sweet smile to him.

“Deal with me? You wound me Badger” he said and you rolled your eyes at the nickname.

“If its any consolation, im actually impressed that your ego managed to fit through the door” is the last thing you say before turning to talk to Pandora and ignore him.

You and your blonde friend talk for some time, she telling you about how her birthday has been and all the presents she got. At some point you start to get thirsty.

“Im gonna ask for something to drink, ill be right back” you say kindly as you stand up from the chair.

“I’ll go with you” you hear Barty says as he stands up as well.

“Great” you whisper under your breath as you start to make your way to the bar, him following behind you.

You ordered a butterbeer, and Barty, naturally, ordered the same, positioning himself so close that his shoulder brushed against yours. The warm, subtle contact sent an unexpected flutter through you, though you tried to ignore it.

“I must admit,” he began, leaning down just enough to speak directly into your ear, “when Evan told us Dora would invite you, my expectations for tonight went up higher.”

“Good for you,” you muttered, turning to face him with an eye roll, only to find his face so close that you could feel his breath on your cheek. You quickly turned your gaze forward again, pretending to study the bottles lined up behind the bar. He chuckled, catching the slight blush that had crept up your cheeks “When Dora mentioned you were coming, I almost declined her invitation” you continued, doing your best to sound unfazed

“If you say so. But, can I just say, you show up here looking like this, put me in my place with that sweet, sassy voice of yours… you’re killing me here.”

Despite yourself, you feel warmth creeping up your cheeks. Thankfully, the bartender hands you both your drinks before you have to answer. You turn to make your way back to the table, but Barty steps in front of you, forcing you to stop short as he smirks down at you, close enough that you catch the faintest spark in his gaze.

“You know, I think you secretly like driving me a little mad,” he murmurs, amusement flickering in his eyes. “It’s cute, really—seeing you pretend to be so above it all.”

“Pretend?” you scoff, raising an eyebrow as you try to sidestep him. “Trust me, Junior, I’m not pretending anything.”

“Oh, really?” he asks, following you smoothly, keeping pace as you try to dodge around him. “Then explain why you look so flustered.”

“I’m not—” You stop, realizing he’s caught you, the faint blush on your cheeks betraying you. You try to shrug it off, holding your head high. “In your dreams, Junior”

He grins, leaning in close enough that his voice is a murmur just for you. “Oh, Treasure. In my dreams we are doing more than talking. Belive me”

You huffed, finally brushing past him and making your way back to the table. “Idiot,” you muttered, though you couldn’t ignore the faint thrill left in the air.

Sliding back into your seat next to Pandora, you tried to steady yourself as she happily dove back into conversation, thankfully distracting you from the lingering heat in your cheeks and Barty’s lingering gaze across the table.

As the night wore on, you and the slytherins stepped out of the warm, bustling atmosphere of the Three Broomsticks into the chilly night air. The sharp bite of winter nipped at your skin, making you shiver as you wrapped your arms around yourself in a futile attempt to keep warm. You hadn’t brought a jacket and now you were regretting it.

Pandora was chatting animatedly with Evan and Regulus, blissfully unaware of your growing discomfort. Barty walked alongside you, his familiar smirk already playing on his lips. You knew he was about to make a comment, and you braced yourself.

Without warning, Barty slipped off his leather jacket and draped it over your shoulders, pulling it tightly around you before you had the chance to protest. “Here, wear this,” he said, his voice low and smooth, ignoring your startled expression. “You look like you’re about to freeze to death.”

You blinked at him, flustered. “You don´t have to-” you start but he cuts you off.

“Please, like I’d let you suffer while I stand here all warm and toasty.” He chuckled. “You show up looking all stunning, and I won’t let you ruin it by turning into an icicle.”

Your cheeks flushed at the unexpected gesture, the warmth of his jacket enveloping you like a shield. You tried to regain your composure, shivering slightly as you adjusted the jacket to fit more snugly. “Thanks, but I don’t need your charity, Junior.” You weren´t willing to give up that easily.

“Oh, is that what you’re calling it? Charity?” he teased, falling into step beside you again, his grin infuriatingly charming. “I thought it was more of a gentlemanly move, if you will.”

“Gentlemanly? You?” You scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief. “You must be joking.”

“Why so skeptical? I can be quite the gentleman when the mood strikes me,” he said, leaning in closer again, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Besides, I can’t have my favorite Hufflepuff catching a cold now, can I?”

You felt a rush of warmth flood your cheeks at his words, and you tried to deflect, “You’re just doing this to annoy me, aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” he replied, a cheeky glint in his eyes. “But I also happen to enjoy the view when you’re flustered. You should see your face right now. It’s adorable.”

“Adorable?” You repeated incredulously, fighting the urge to smile. “You really think you’re charming, don’t you?”

He leaned back slightly, feigning deep thought. “Well, I wouldn’t say charming. More like irresistible.”

You shook your head, biting back a smile as you shot him a glare. “Keep dreaming, Junior.”

“Trust me, I will,” he shot back with that devil-may-care grin.

Pandora turned to you both, her eyes sparkling with delight. “Oh my gosh, you two are so cute! You’re practically flirting!” she gushed, completely unaware of your desire to bury your face in your hands.

“Flirting?” you exclaimed, turning to Barty in disbelief. “This isn’t flirting; it’s sheer torture!”

Barty chuckled, his gaze locked on yours, mischief dancing in his eyes. “Torture? Maybe I’ll have to keep it up then. Can’t have you getting too comfortable, can we?”

As you walked back to Hogwarts, you could feel the weight of his jacket around your shoulders, and though you’d never admit it, the warmth was more than just physical. Despite the banter and the bickering, you couldn’t shake the flutter in your stomach. Barty Crouch Junior might drive you mad, but maybe—just maybe—there was something nice about having him around after all.

You arrive to Hogwarts and everyone makes their way to their common room, the boys to Slytherin´s, Pandora to Ravenclaw´s and you to Hufflepuff´s. You get into your dorm quietly, because even if it was a Friday night, your roomates were sleeping.

As you began to undress, you suddenly realized you still had Barty’s jacket draped over your shoulders. Great, you thought with an eye roll. Now I have to see him again. You sighed, folding it neatly and placing it in your wardrobe alongside your other clothes.

After a quick trip to the bathroom to wash off your makeup and change into your pajamas, you settled into bed. The comfort of your blankets enveloped you, but no matter how hard you tried to shake it off, the memory of Barty's teasing grin lingered in your mind.

You hated that the last thought before sleep was that goddamn smirk of his—so infuriating yet somehow captivating. With a frustrated huff, you turned over, determined to banish thoughts of him, but the image of his charming arrogance persisted, a playful reminder of the night’s events.

You woke up the next day, the soft sunlight filtering through the windows of your dormitory. The quiet of the weekend morning was a welcome contrast to the usual hustle and bustle of school life. You moved through your routine slowly, knowing you had no classes to rush to today. After freshing up, you dressed casually and made your way to the Great Hall for breakfast. You decided to take Barty´s jacket with you, so you could return it as soon as possible.

And thanks to Merlin, when you enter the Great Hall you immediately spotted him at the Slytherin table with his friends. You wave at your own friends and make them a signal to wait for you as you approached the green table, your friends staring at you like you had gone crazy.

“Junior” you call out softly from behind him.

Barty´s head whipped around, his grin widening when he saw you “Treasure!” his voice was full of amusement as he looked you up and down “Miss me alredy?”

You rolled your eyes and extended his jacket over him “Im here to return this, and to say thank you again” even if he was insufferable, you were always polite.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly pleased by your words, as he took the jacket from you “You know, I was hoping you would keep it for longer. You did look amazing in it. Not that I didn’t like you in your top, of course”

You felt the heat increasing in your cheeks at his words but try to hide it with a scoff, your hands instinctively moving to fold your arms across your chest. “Whatever” you muttered, stepping back and already starting to turn away “Goodbye”

Some days later you were sitting with your friends in the courtyard, laughing as you discussed the latest mishap in Potions class, when you noticed a familiar figure making his way toward you. Barty Crouch Jr, in all his swagger, had that unmistakable smirk as he approached your small circle, his eyes already fixed on you.

"Treasure," he greeted smoothly, nodding to your friends before focusing entirely on you. "Got a minute?"

You raised an eyebrow, a bit taken aback that he’d be seeking you out in broad daylight, in front of witnesses no less. “Depends. What do you want, Junior?”

He chuckled, unfazed by your tone. "Pandora said you’re somewhat of an expert in Magical Creatures. Thought maybe you could help a struggling Slytherin with a few... basics.”

Your friends exchanged glances, one of them biting back a smile as they elbowed each other. You tried to ignore it, focusing on Barty. “Struggling?” you echoed, skeptical. “You’re one of the top students. Why do you need my help?”

He shrugged, managing to look both innocent and mischievous. “Call it an off week. I could use some extra guidance.”

One of your friends couldn’t resist chiming in, “Are you sure you don’t just want to copy her notes, Barty?”

“Oh, I’d love to copy,” he said, giving you a pointed look, “but I think I’d learn more if we… studied together. Say, this afternoon?”

“Fine,” you said, ignoring the snickers from your friends. “The library at six?”

“Or my room?” he suggested, not missing a beat. “Much quieter. Comfier too.”

You rolled your eyes, even as your friends burst into laughter. “Nice try. The library will do just fine.”

He placed a hand over his heart, feigning disappointment. “Heartbreaking, really. I was hoping for a more… private lesson.”

“Guess you’ll just have to settle for learning in public,” you replied, a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. “See you at six, Junior.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” he said, his smirk widening.

With that, he turned and sauntered off, leaving your friends barely containing their laughter.

“Oh, Merlin,” one of them said as soon as he was out of earshot, “did Barty Crouch Jr. just ask you for a tutoring session?”

You sighed, trying not to show the flutter of nerves in your stomach. “Apparently. And he’d better actually need help with Magical Creatures.”

But even as you turned back to your conversation, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this “study session” was going to be anything but ordinary.

That evening, you made your way to the library with a stack of notes on magical creatures and a determination to focus—no matter how distracting your “student” might try to be. When you arrived, you saw Barty lounging at a back table, idly flipping through a book that looked suspiciously unrelated to magical creatures.

“Good, you’re here,” he said with a grin as you sat down. “I was starting to think you’d stand me up.”

You rolled your eyes as you sat in front of him “Almost did” you mumble under your breath as you opened your book and notes. The library was quiet as you huddled over a hefty tome on magical creatures, quills and parchment spread across the table between you. It seemed like he was genuinely focused—or at least, he pretended to be.

“Alright, Junior” you said, pointing to a section in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, “why don’t you tell me everything you know about hippogriffs?”

He gave you a thoughtful look, scratching his chin as if deep in concentration. “Hmm… majestic creatures, proud, can be very dangerous if approached incorrectly… does that sound right?”

You tilted your head, eyeing him suspiciously. “So you do know about them, after all. That’s a decent start.”

“Well, I have the basics,” he said with a little grin, “but I wouldn’t call myself an expert. That’s where you come in, Treasure.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled anyway, nudging the book closer to him. “Alright, fine. Hippogriffs are proud, but there’s more to them than that. They’re highly sensitive and require respect—bowing to them before approaching is essential.”

He nodded, trying to keep a straight face, though you could tell he was amused. “Bowing. Got it. Sort of like dealing with you, isn’t it? Respect, admiration…”

You huffed, fighting the warmth creeping into your cheeks. “Keep it up, and I’ll leave you to fend for yourself next time we have a test.”

“Anything but that,” he said, raising his hands in mock surrender, though his grin didn’t fade. “You’re far too charming when you’re lecturing me on magical creatures.”

You ignored him and went over a few more creatures, each time finding him surprisingly attentive. He asked questions—good ones, actually—and seemed engaged in a way you hadn’t expected. You started to think maybe he genuinely did want to learn more about the subject.

As the library began to empty, you glanced at the time. “We should probably get some dinner before the house-elves clear the tables,” you said, gathering your notes.

You started to walk to the Great Hall, still in conversation about the finer points of bowtruckles, when something slipped out from under his arm and fluttered to the ground. You instinctively bent down to pick it up, and your eyes widened as you caught sight of the parchment. It was an essay titled “The Lifecycle of Thestrals” with “A” scrawled at the top in red ink. The neat handwriting and the perfectly structured points left no doubt: Barty had known exactly what he was doing in Care of Magical Creatures all along.

You blinked, looking from the essay to Barty, who wore a guilty-but-unbothered grin.

“What’s this?” you asked, eyebrows raised. “You didn’t need my help at all, did you?”

“Guilty as charged,” he replied, his smirk widening.

You scoffed, folding your arms. “Unbelievable. So you wasted my time?”

He leaned in, voice dropping to a low murmur. “Come on, can you really blame me?” His eyes held that familiar glint. “When Pandora mentioned you were the go-to expert on magical creatures, I knew I couldn’t miss the chance. I mean, who wouldn’t want to spend a few hours with someone as pretty as you, Treasure?”

Heat crept up your cheeks, and you looked away, trying not to let him see how flustered you felt. “You are unbelievable,” you muttered, but your voice came out softer than you intended.

“Unbelievably charming? I’ll take it,” he said, grinning as you approached the Great Hall. “I had a great time, by the way. Maybe next time, we can have a... more private study session.”

He threw you a wink before sauntering off toward the Slytherin table, leaving you standing there, cheeks flushed, speechless, and—if you were being honest with yourself—a bit confused. Because somehow, despite his insufferable arrogance, the idea of spending more time with him didn’t sound half as annoying as you’d expected.

#marauders era #bartemius crouch jr #barty crouch jr #barty crouch jr x reader #barty crouch jr x you #barty crouch junior #slytherin skittles #hufflepuff reader

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agent-grey-fics · 5 months ago

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Scarred survivors part 2 | Finnick Odair x reader

Pairing: Finnick Odair x reader Wordcount: 1k

Summary: The Capitol announces a twist in the Quarter Quell: victors will be reaped, again. Y/N Green, the "Huntress" and winner of the 69th Hunger Games, is forced back into the arena. Furious and betrayed, she faces Finnick Odair, who volunteers to participate in the games once again, reigniting old tensions.

You were still seething as the Peacekeepers guided you off the stage. The Capitol escort's overly cheerful voice grated against your nerves, and every step felt like a death march. Finnick walked beside you, his presence a constant reminder of the impending nightmare. You wanted to scream, to lash out, but you held it together, determined not to give Snow or anyone else the satisfaction of seeing you break.

There was no one for you to say goodbye to, everyone you loved was gone. Snow made sure of that. You were waiting in a small room until the peacekeepers came to put you on the train. From the shuffling and crying in the corridor, you could hear that Finnick did have company. You could recognise Annie's sobbing through the door. Finnick had her wrapped around his finger, she did everything he asked her to do. He once had you wrapped around his finger too, until he didn’t want you anymore and Annie came into the picture. He never gave you a proper explanation, he gave you the ‘it isn’t you but me’ bullshit that you saw on tv. You rolled your eyes in annoyance when you remembered the conversation. The crying stopped as you heard a knock on the door before it opened. ‘Bring him home y/n, promise me you’ll make sure he survives these games.’ She was truly crazy. ‘Do you hear yourself?’ Tears started running down her cheeks. ‘I can’t live without him y/n.’ It took all your effort not to roll your eyes when she said that. ‘Well though luck love, ‘cause if it comes down to me or him I’ll try my best to be the one that gets out of there.’ All the colour left her face when she heard your words. ‘It isn’t fair to ask me that Annie, we’ve both been through hell and back and I’m not dying in that arena so you can play happy house with him. No, I won’t do it.’ She turned around without saying another word and that was the last time you saw Annie Cresta in a long time.

You were pushed onto the train, no big exit, everything was quick and hush-hush. ‘They want us at the compound by this evening,’ was the only explanation you got. The transport to the Capitol was a blur of sterile corridors and whispered conversations as you made your way through the train. Finnick tried to engage you several times, but you shut him out, focusing instead on the pounding of your heart and the tightening of your throat. The thought of returning to the arena was almost too much to bear. You had barely survived the first time, and now you were being thrown back into that hell.

The silence gave you some time to think, this time everything was different. You had been a mentor, you had coached other tributes so you didn’t need the support of Mags right now. You could do this on your own. You were going into the arena with other victors, ones who were way more skilled than you were, slimming your chances of winning the whole ordeal. Unconsciously you crack your knuckles, a thing you did when you were stressed. Killing the others, fine you could live with that. But killing your friends? Physically you could. You were as good as they were in hand-to-hand combat no one would doubt that. But emotionally was something else, you could never bring yourself to kill them. They had made you a murderer once and now they were forcing you to do it again. A shiver ran down your spine as you thought back to the blood of the first tribute on your hands. It had been a you girl, she must have been not older then thirteen.

‘Earth to y/n?’ You were startled from your thoughts, he leaned casually against the doorframe. ‘You ok?’ His brows raised and he gave you a confused look. ‘Just thinking about how I’m going to kill you.’ You shrugged your shoulders. A smirk formed around his lips, mischief in his eyes as he looked you up and down. ‘What had you in mind?’ You chuckled. ‘Waiting as long as possible until you get tired and then hunt you down. You’ll be tired, less focussed and let’s be honest you could never hurt me.’ The sparkle in his eyes dropped a couple of seconds when he heard your last words but he bounced back. ‘Only if you ask nicely.’ He gave you a cheeky wink which made you roll your eyes. If you weren't careful, he could wrap you around his finger again in no time.

‘How are we going to kill them? At least half of them will be our friends, I can’t hunt them down and kill them with no mercy. They are our allies, they went through the same things as us. They are family.’ You dropped your head in your hands, just thinking about killing Joanna made you shiver. You could hunt down those you didn’t care about but most of the victors were your friends, the careers were the only ones you didn’t care about. He shuffled to the spot next to you and took a seat on the sofa. ‘We will figure this out, it won’t be for another two weeks before we’ll go into the arena. We still have some time left.’ A sarcastic laugh left your lips, time. ‘Two whole weeks, wow.’ You shook your head. Who were you trying to fool. You were going to die, and soon.

‘Why did you volunteer? It would be way easier if it was me and Thomas, they are going to pit us against each other we both know that.’ He didn’t answer immediately so you continued. ‘Did you know that Annie came begging me for your safe return?’ He took a deep breath when he heard Annie’s part. ‘You know that she doesn’t mean a thing to me. Yeah sure, she’s totally swooned by me and it’s fun but it’s no feelings. At least not for me.’ ‘You are such an asshole, that girl would die for you. She would do everything you asked her.’ ‘Oh I know she would but I never promised her anything. She can go wherever she wants, I don’t make her do anything she doesn’t want to.’ He shrugged. ‘Such an asshole.’ It was a mumble. ‘Why did you even come home? Aren’t you a celebrity in the capitol?’ Pain flashed through his eyes, he wasn’t able to hide it. ‘I needed a break.’ He tried his best to act nonchalantly but you could see right through him, ‘They loved you too.’ You rolled your eyes. ‘They loved the persona I portrayed, I couldn’t keep doing that not after they took away everything.’ The Capitol adored you at one point, you could have flourished if you wanted to but you went home. You weren’t made for the glitter and glamour and fakeness. Especially after he broke your heart. He brought nothing against it. He slumped down in the sofa and closed his eyes, you still had a long trip ahead of you. When Finnick closed his eyes, he saw Snow in front of him. He had threatened to kill his loved ones if he did not do as he asked. Little did you know that he had done that before, back then he had to leave you behind for your own safety but you did not know that. You hated him for it, you thought he was leaving you for another but he could never.

He was back into the same spot as he was before. He had to do what Snow asked him to do because of you. But this time everything would be different.

#finnick odair imagine #thg finnick #finnick odair #finnick x reader #finnick x you #hunger games x reader #finnick odair x reader

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honey-on-your-tongue · 2 years ago

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Discipline

Series Masterlist

Part one

Summary: Jake is sent to teach you discipline within the rules of the Omaticaya, from which you are constantly rebelling. Except...he finds unorthodox methods that get you to behave.

Warnings: smut, smut, smut. Jake being a hard, hard dom. Degradation. Dub con, I think. Uh. Spanking. Jake treats you like a whore, ngl. If I miss anything, please lmk.

Jake Sully had made one hell of an effort to fit in. He'd bended over backwards just to become part of the Omaticaya clan. He'd become Toruk Macto and fought the Sky People and everyone had come to love and admire him. He'd been through hell and back, and then he'd been transferred to his Na'vi body, and still, he was doing his utmost effort to fit in.

And it pissed him off because you—You pissed him off.

You were a native, already part of the clan, and yet, you didn't care. You hated following rules, you were always pissed at your parents, at traditions, at fitting in. And the crazy thing was, they let you. Everyone around you just knew it. They weren't happy about you, or your defiance, but they just accepted it. Sometimes, he saw, they excluded you, but you didn't seem to mind. You seemed almost glad that they left you to your own.

And that angered him. He'd done so much to fit in, and so much was still expected of him, it wasn't fair that you were just left to do as you pleased.

It was an incessant little thorn of rage within him that refused to dissipate. He tried to push it away, but the more he did, the more he found himself really angered towards you.

That's why he was so surprised—and, honestly, a little pleased—when you finally seemed to get on Mo'at's nerves and she decided you could no longer go along without discipline. She said you were to start small, with everything you'd refused to learn and do since you were a teenager, which is when your rebellion had begun.

And, just his luck, Mo'at asked Jake to help.

“She would do well to learn from someone like you,” she'd told him. “Disciplined and determined and strong.”

And now, here he was. Teaching you to use a bow, teaching you how to stand and to straighten your arms, correcting your posture and poking your stomach in so you'd strengthen the muscles there.

You were annoyed. He could see your eyes, bright with anger, your ears flattened back, and every time his hands met your skin, you'd bare your teeth silently at him.

“You're not listening,” he accuses, pushing your elbow higher, correcting your shoulder's stance. “Stand straight, arms straight, shoulders squared. Otherwise, your aim and the force of your arrow will be wrong.”

He pushes against your stomach again as he tells you, “Your strength must come from the muscles here.”

You hiss at him again, baring your teeth. “Touch me one more time, I'll bite you,” you snarl.

He is unfazed. “Back straight. Eyes forward. Aim carefully—”

You let go of the arrow. It flies in a perfect, straight line, full of strength, and lands on the tree, right where Jake had drawn a target. Your arrow lands in the center, piercing right through the white circle. A perfect shot.

You glance over at him, raising an eyebrow as if challenging him to tell you that you can't work a bow and an arrow.

The thing is, you did learn. In your spare time, on your own, and you'd gotten pretty good at it. You just weren't eager to fall in with the other Na'vi. Mostly because you'd grown up, trying to impress everyone around you, and eager to please everyone, and one day, you grew tired of it. Why should you live your life for other people?

Jake glares at you, amber eyes boring into your face. “I didn't instruct you to shoot,” he points out.

“I still hit the target,” you deadpan. “As you can see, I don't need you to teach me shit. I can handle myself.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You will not do that again,” he orders. “You will go fetch your arrow and then you will follow my instructions.”

You roll your eyes and drop the stance, irritated. “Here's your bow,” you tell him, holding the weapon out to him.

His yellow eyes fall down to the bow but he makes no move to grab it.

You push it against his chest but he still doesn't take it, so you let it fall to the ground.

His gaze follows the weapon to the floor before he glances back at you. “Pick it up.”

“No,” you respond. “All you've done is feel me up, tell me what I don't do right, and pretend to give me orders. Frankly, I just don't want to keep it up. So, thanks for wasting my time,” you spit sarcastically, “but I won't be doing it again.”

You turn away from him, ready to climb up your favorite tree and be free from everyone around you, but he grabs you by the wrist and harshly pulls you back to face him.

“Pick the bow up and go fetch your arrow,” he insists, his voice a growl. His grip around your wrist is tight, enough to hurt a little.

“Let go of me,” you demand, snarling, your sharp canines bared.

“I don't want to be here, and yet I am,” he spits. “I'm here because of you; the least you could do is be fucking respectful.”

“Respectful?” you scoff. “You think spending an hour trying to teach me something I already know how to do is respectful? Being condescending and patronizing and pretending you're better than me just because you ache to kiss everyone's ass—that's what you think is respectful?” You snarl at him. “It's fucking ridiculous. You're asking for something from me that you haven't deserved. So, no. I will not be respectful until I deem you worthy of my respect.”

He tugs you closer, your wrist aching beneath his grip. “What? You think I want this? You think I'm here because I enjoy it?” He sneers. “Trust me, girl, I would rather be anywhere but here. You're a pain in the ass.”

“If you don't wanna be here, then, why are you here?” you demand.

He frowns at you. “I'm here because you behave like a spoiled little brat. A bitch who aches to get in trouble and needs to be put in her place.”

You wrench your wrist out of his hand. Baring your teeth and folding your ears backward, you snarl, “You pretend to put me in my place, halfling?”

Something flashes in his eyes, something wicked and enraged and...hot. It boils within his amber gaze, sending a shudder through you. He growls at you, canines showing and somewhere within you, the most primitive, instinctive part of you is delighted with his rage, attracted and even eager to see how far you can push him.

Jake has had enough. He is sick and tired of your attitude. He is annoyed at you, pissed at the way you look at him, unfazed, the way you constantly bare your teeth and hiss, the way your ears fold backwards. And he hates the way you smell. Your scent is thick, sweet, intoxicating, and it only furthers to infuriate him.

But then, when he growls at you, your stance changes. Your eyes shine bright, even through their narrowed hatred. Your ears fold backward against your head, but not in annoyance...in submission. And your scent...it grows stronger, and it makes his chest tighten with sudden animalistic lust.

“Do you need me to put you in your place, girl?” he questions, but his voice grows husky, rough.

You shudder visibly, eyes fluttering a little closed.

Jake's other hand moves up to your neck and he holds you tight, your air coming into your lungs with some effort. “You do, huh,” he hums, grinning cockily, teeth showing.

“I don't,” you respond, but it comes out as a purr. Embarrassed, you close your eyes and attempt to turn your face away from him, but his hand around your neck holds you in place.

“Where should I start, girl?” he asks lowly, leaning in, his breath fanning across your face.

“Let me go,” you snap, but your voice is weak and shaky, clearly hungry—hungry for him.

He chuckles and tsks. “If you won't tell me, I'll have to figure it out on my own.”

His hand releases your wrist and travels to cup your face. He grabs your cheek and drags his thumb down your lips, eyes catching on your plump lip as he caresses it. He inhales a sharp breath as he snakes his thumb into your mouth, pressing his digit down against your tongue.

You groan in protest, but your resolve falters and you end up humming softly, in a wordless plead for more.

He pulls his finger out of your mouth and trails it down your chest, under your beaded necklace and around a breast. He massages your tit, eyes locked on yours, as you pant softly. He pinches your nipple between his forefinger and his middle finger, making you whine softly, back arching and forcing your chest further into his touch.

“It seems this is the only way to put you in your place, huh, girl?” he hums, inching his face down to your chest. “By treating you like the dirty little slut you are.”

You mewl softly, pussy clenching around nothing, folds dripping.

“Yeah, that's right,” Jake continues, voice dangerously low. His mouth reaches your chest, his tongue maneuvering around your beaded necklace and suckling on your nipple. “You're a little whore, aren't you? Just acting up because you want some cock. Isn't that right, girl?” he says against your nipple, tongue spelling the words across your sensitive breast. You sigh gently even though there's still a sliver of you that wants to punch him away for being so good with his tongue.

He moves his head to your other breast, licking your other nipple as one of his hands trails down your torso, past your lower stomach, to your thigh and under your loincloth. Hi middle finger is rough and calloused as it trails between your folds, tracing all the way up from your entrance to your clit. You groan softly and he rubs circles against the nerve-packed bud, making your hips buck against his touch.

He removes his mouth from your tit and licks his way up to your neck. As he places wet, open-mouthed kisses against your throat, his thick finger slithers down to your slit. He pushes it inside you with ease, your spongy insides tight around his digit.

You gasp gently as he snakes his ring finger into you as well, curling both fingers against a spot inside you that makes your back arch.

He chuckles quietly, almost sadistically. “There it is.”

He continues to fondle you, movements rough but measured, carefully angled to make you jerk with each curl of his digits. His mouth reaches your jaw, nipping at your skin, and your body is trembling with frustration.

You moan gently, making him growl in response. “You're gonna say my name, girl,” he promises. “You're gonna beg me to fuck you, beg me to make you come, beg me to fill you up with my come.”

You writhe in place, barely held up by your weakening legs, but you shake your head. “I don't beg,” you gasp out, eyes shut tight from the pressure building within you.

“Still being a brat, I see,” Jake says. “It seems you still need to be disciplined, girl.”

He pulls his fingers out of you, grabbing you by the wrist and dragging you over to a large rock that rests by a stream. He sits on the rock and pulls you to him, draping you across his lap.

You struggle to push yourself up and get out of his grasp, but he presses a hand against the small of your back, holding you in place. You can feel his cock, hard as a rock, press against your stomach.

His other hand caresses your inner thigh, teasing its way up to your ass.

“First lesson for you: you don't say no to me,” he says, spanking your ass, making the pain whip through you with such force, the breath is knocked from your lungs. “Count them.”

You shake your head again, and he spanks you once more. “I wasn't asking, girl. You will count them, just like you will beg for my cock.” He spanks you harshly, and a soft gasp leaves your parted lips. “You know how to count, yes?”

You nod feebly.

“Then count.” He spanks you once more and you tremble in his grasp, skin slick with sweat from the pain and the pleasure.

“Four,” you say, voice shaky.

He spanks you, a little softer this time.

“Five,” you announce.

“That's good. Atta girl.” His hand falls to the skin of your ass, the sound reverberating against the foliage around you.

“Six.”

Another spank, another little whimper from you as you manage, “Seven.”

“That's right. If you keep being a good little slut, I just might eat your wet little cunt,” he offers, and something within you purrs, eager to have his smart little mouth between your thighs.

He spanks, you count. You're not sure how long it goes on for, but you do know that you eventually start mixing numbers, saying the first one that comes to mind, not really keeping track. Tears are streaming down your face, lips open, breathing heavy, your own spit coating your chin.

With one final spank that you barely feel from how numb your ass has become, Jake says, “Have I made myself clear, girl?”

You nod, eagerly. “Yes, sir. I-I won't say no to you.”

He chuckles, the sound making your already-soaked cunt drip even more. “You're gonna behave now, aren't you, baby?”

You nod again. “Yes, sir.”

He lifts you up wordlessly, placing you on the rock and spreading your legs as he kneels between them. He hastily pushes your loincloth away, eyes falling to your sodden pussy.

His pupils dilate at the sight and he glances up at you through his eyelashes. Returning his eyes to your sex, he uses two fingers to push your folds apart and he admires the sight before him.

He hadn't been aware of how bad he wanted you until now. Until he had you too close to not touch, too close to not want, too close to not smell your scent and have it take over his mind.

If he's going to teach you something, he decides, it might as well be with his cock deep inside you.

He leans his face to your pussy and sticks his tongue out, flattening it against your clit before flicking it up and down, side to side, and then snaking it down to your entrance, drinking in your arousal.

You whine lowly, legs spreading wider, back arching, as you lean back on your elbows. Jake's hands come to your thighs to hold them apart as he slides his tongue into you. He can taste you, he can taste how bad you need him. And it excites him even more.

His cock prods against his loincloth, precum dribbling out the tip, staining the thin fabric. Fuck, he needs you to touch him, to suck him off, to let him into your tight, warm pussy.

But he hangs on. He watches you, watches your reactions as his tongue drags across your cunt, as he sucks your clit, as he licks your folds, as he kisses your thighs.

The slurping of Jake's tongue on your pussy is all you can hear. Well, that and your ridiculous moans. Your back arches, your legs shake. Your fingers dig into the rock beneath you, and you can feel your orgasm pricking at your skin, warning you of its nearing arrival.

“Jake,” you gasp, throwing your head back as your eyes flutter. “Jake, I can't—”

“Come on, little slut,” he says, mouth full of you, chin slick with your arousal. “Don't tell me it's too much. You're so wet for me, so needy. There's no way you don't want me to make you come on my tongue and then on my cock.”

“I do,” you gasp, hips rocking against his face. “I do, but—”

He bites you. Sinks his teeth against your clit, nibbling on it, his sharp canine dragging against your sensitive bud in the perfect combination of pain and pleasure.

You cry, “Fuck!”

“No but's, girl,” he says against you. “If you're going to misbehave, you're going to have to deal with the consequences. So deal with them, you brat.”

The way he calls you a brat makes you even wetter. Your body is shaking, your breath leaving your lungs, your thighs trying to clench together, but he holds them wide open.

“Fuck,” you gasp again as he slides a finger into you, leaving his tongue to flick against your clit. You're dizzy with pleasure, body contorted with the buzz of your approaching orgasm.

“You should be thankful, too,” he adds, nibbling at your folds. “I could leave you here now, all wound up and dripping, without offering you the release you're crying for.”

“No!” you gasp, hips bucking up against his face. “No, please, please let me come.”

“I will,” he tells you. “Once you thank me for the favor I'm doing you.”

Through the searing pleasure, you purse your lips, adamant against giving in. Your eyes blink down at him and he can see the defiance in your gaze.

He raises an eyebrow. “No?” he questions, slowing the movement of his fingers.

Normally, you'd be too proud to give him what he wanted. But this was more for your benefit; you needed this, and you weren't too proud to go after what you wanted.

“Thank you,” you tell him between groans.

“For what, girl?” He orders, “Say it.”

“For...for disciplining me and making me come,” you respond between whines. “Thank you, sir.”

He chuckles darkly, lowly. It makes you shudder against him, your body quivering, your lungs inhaling sharply at the increasing ecstasy within you.

His fingers pick up the pace again, curling against that spot within that makes your toes curl, your eyes flutter.

“Thank you,” you repeat, over and over, a soft chant, the only words left in your mind as he eats you out. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

The pleasure is unbearable, blinding, so intense it makes your ears ring and your body start to tremble.

Jake can feel how close you are. He can tell by the way you hold your breath, by the way you squeeze around his fingers, by the way your body writhes.

And then you come, hips rocking against his mouth, arousal dripping out of you, his name escaping your lips.

“Jake,” you gasp. “Jake.”

The sound makes his ears perk up, his cock twitching in anxious eagerness. He keeps licking at you, pulling his fingers out of you and pushing your thighs further apart only to lick his way into your entrance, savoring your orgasm.

You whine and jerk away from him, overstimulated, but to no avail; he holds you tight, nails digging into your thighs as he cleans you with his mouth.

When he's done, Jake glances up at you, lips swollen, chin slick with your arousal, and he grins that stupid, cocky grin.

You're still gasping, breathing heavily when he stands and pulls you to your feet. He turns you around and pushes your chest down against the rock you were lying on moments ago.

He kicks your foot, spreading you out for him, as he tangles a hand in your hair and forces your cheek against the hard rock.

Without a warning, Jake's cock slides over your pussy, pushing your folds aside, and then slides into you with ease.

He groans as he bottoms out, bruising your cervix, making you grimace and jerk your hips away from him in equal parts pain and pleasure.

“Where do you think you're goin'?” he scoffs, grabbing your hip with his large hand, pulling you back to him as he tugs on your hair.

“'s too much,” you groan, cunt clenching around his long cock.

He throbs inside of you almost painfully, twitching and ready to fuck you hard.

“I don't care,” Jake seethes in your ear. “You got to come, why shouldn't I? Now, listen to me, girl, I am going to use you, understood? As long as I want to, as long as I need to.” He leans down to your ear and says, “You're going to be my good little whore, otherwise you'll have consequences. You don't want that, do you?”

You shake your head, muttering, “No.”

“No, what?”

“No, sir,” you respond, shaking.

“That's a good slut,” he says as he begins thrusting in and out of you, his hips crashing against yours.

You whine, back arched, head being tugged back by Jake's harsh hold on your hair, tears of both pain and pleasure welling in your eyes and spilling down your face.

Soon, you're sobbing, body quaking, pussy raw and swollen, as you beg, “Jake, please, please...”

“Take it,” Jake orders, groaning as his cock pounds you. “Take it like the brat you are. Don't think cryin' will get you any pity from me, girl. I'll use your cunt as much as I want to, and you won't do a goddamn thing to stop it.”

You're shaking, crying, your own spit coating your chin as you withstand Jake's wonderful, bruising pace. You can feel another orgasm growing within you, ready to burst, ready to prove how much you fucking love what he's doing to you.

Jake can tell.

He can feel the way you grow tighter around him, the way your legs shake and your breaths falter and the way your moans turn into mewls.

He chuckles between groans. “Fuckin' slut,” he says. “You beg me to stop, but come when I don't. Say it, girl,” he tells you, voice low and thick, “say how much you like me using you, how much you enjoy the way I turn you into my cumslut. My little toy.”

You moan unintelligibly, unable to formulate thoughts, let alone words.

He laughs, “Yeah, you just needed some cock, isn't that right? That's why you were acting up. You just needed a good dickin' down.”

You writhe under him, crying and torn between begging for him to stop and for him to give you more.

His relentless pace keeps up even as your orgasm washes over you, rattling your body, making the edges of your vision grow black.

He continues fucking you, his hips slamming into yours, your hip bruised from where he holds it, your scalp hurting as he pulls your hair.

And then, finally, just when you think you're going to faint from the pleasure, he comes, hot spurts of his seed filling your insides.

He comes and comes and comes, the liquid oozing out of you, dripping down your thighs as he finally pulls his cock out of you.

You're panting, boneless as you try to stand on wobbly legs.

Jake gives you a quick look, studying you up and down, before saying, “Tomorrow, same place, same time. Don't be late, girl.”

And he walks away.

#avatar jake sully #avatar #avatar fanfiction #fanfic #jake sully #jake sully x reader #reader insert #avatar smut #jake sully smut

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moonlight0934 · 1 month ago

Text

Friendly Fire

Charles looks up at Alex, blinking slowly. He looks tired, but Alex still forces him to stay awake.

“Come on, you have to keep your eyes open. We’re going to get you out of here, but you have to work with me,” Alex whispers, and Charles gives him a crooked smile.

“I’mm ssory,” he mumbles, and Alex’s heart clenches.

Alex has to bite his lip to keep the thoughts out of his head in case Charles can still hear what he’s thinking. He refuses to think that Charles is going to die, not when he can still hear Alex think it. Not that he has any way of knowing if he can or not.

Alex blinks, and Charles’ eyes are closed, or maybe he got too caught up in his thoughts. He taps Charles’ cheek insistently, then rips his gloves off so he can feel Charles’ pulse. It’s thready under his fingers.

“Guys, I think he’s going into shock. Are we having any luck?” he calls.

“No, there’s nothing, and I don’t know how to get us out of here,” Moira replies, sounding completely frantic.

Alex grabs Charles’ face, more sand sticking to his face, and Alex’s fingers.

I hate the sand, and I’ll be happy to never see sand again after this.

Charles’ eyes drift open, but he doesn’t seem to be looking at Alex, more past him. This time he doesn’t speak, instead he just projects his thoughts. Alex isn’t sure if he’s the only one that can hear them, or if everyone can.

The sky is so blue. Was it this beautiful earlier? I didn’t notice.

“Hey, I’m glad you’re back. Just don’t fall asleep, ok?”

Charles turns from the sky to Alex with a soft smile on his face.

I’m alright, don’t worry about me.

Alex chokes out a laugh.

“Oh, only you could say that after being shot, and not having any way to get to medical help.”

The corner of Charles’ mouth turns up, though his eyes are getting glassy again already.

“Charles.”

His face is red, sand in his hair, across his face, crusting around his eyes. Sweat coats his face, and his eyes are rapidly dulling. He looks like a wreck, and Alex can’t help how scared he feels at that moment. Charles frowns.

“Srry,” he slurs again, his face pinching together.

“No, I’m sorry. I was trying not to think too loudly.”

Charles reaches up with a shaking hand to touch Alex’s cheek. Alex feels a rush of calm that soothes his fraying nerves.

It’s not as good as normal.

“You don’t have to make me feel better. You should save your strength. You need it.”

Charles smiles, the creases on his face not going away. He looks like he’s in more pain now. His eyes drift to the left of Alex. Suddenly all Alex can see is Raven. She can’t be older than fifteen, and she’s leaning against a counter. She’s laughing, and Alex can hear the sound ringing in his ears.

“You’re ridiculous. You know, you could use your powers some other way than just figuring out what people think of you.”

“You always judge me, but I don’t think it’s fair to read people’s minds indiscriminately.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s fair, but how do you justify today?”

“It was an accident. I didn’t think that person thought I was… nevermind. I don’t want to repeat what I heard. You know I can’t always choose, and sometimes I can’t help it.”

Raven hums, looking down.

“So, what are you going to do about it?”

“Nothing, his personal thoughts shouldn’t affect my actions.”

The scene rapidly changes. Suddenly he can see Charles’ living room as though he’s sitting on the couch. A woman that Alex doesn’t recognize walks in.

“Charles, what are you doing up at this hour?”

A book drops into his lap.

“Sorry, Mother. I was just studying. I lost track of time. What were you doing out so late?”

“That isn’t an appropriate thing to ask me. Mind your own business, Charles. You need to learn to control yourself. Go to bed.”

“Ok, sorry, Mother.”

Why didn’t they love me? Why did she leave? Everything hurts.

Alex feels tears streaming down his face as the beach comes back into view.

“Charles, I’m so sorry. I’ll be here. I won’t leave you.”

Charles’ eyes are closed, but Alex doesn’t think he’s asleep. He can still feel the rush of emotions that are definitely not his. Tears continue to pour from his eyes, and he’s not sure whose emotions he’s getting overwhelmed by at this point. He puts an arm around Charles’ shoulder, not aware of if he can even feel it at this point. He’s desperate to do something, anything to make Charles feel better, or just a little less distressed. A single tear falls down Charles’ face as he opens his eyes again.

I can’t feel my legs.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry about everything. We’re going to get out of here.”

I can’t… I.

Alex tips Charles’ face to make Charles look at him.

“Hey, I know. We’re going to get you out of here. I promise, we’re going to get you out of here.”

Charles sighs, closing his eyes again. Alex doesn’t fight him this time, too busy trying to compose himself.

It’s a few weeks after that when Charles is finally released from the hospital. They haven’t talked about what happened, but Alex can tell that he’s trying to put on a good front. He rolls into his house, looking at the stairs with a frown.

“Well, I’m going to have to make this place a little more accessible, huh?” he asks with a laugh.

Alex sighs.

“Yeah, that sucks.”

Charles’ smile wavers just a little bit.

“Well, it is what it is, huh? For now I’ll just settle somewhere downstairs. Can you get a few things from my room for me?”

Alex nods.

“What do you want for me to get?”

Charles gives him a short list before telling him where he’s going to set up. Alex nods, and heads up the stairs to find Charles’ room. He’s been there one other time, but the house is big enough that he always struggles a bit getting around. He eventually finds Charles’ room. After getting some clothes from his closet, he heads to the bathroom that’s attached to the room.

His eyes catch on a collage of pictures pinned on a board that’s hanging on the wall. Most of them are of Charles and Raven, but a few of them are of the rest of them since they got to the mansion. There’s a picture of all of them, one of Alex while him and Charles were talking in the garden. There’s one of Hank and Raven in Hank’s lab, and one of Charles and Erik outside.

Alex finds himself staring at it for a lot longer than he intended to. By the time he pulls himself out of his head, he has to rush through the rest of his task. He comes down with his arms full to find Charles completely still near the doorway of the room he’s going to be staying in.

“Are you ok?” Alex asks.

“Yes, I just… I got stuck on a divot in the floorboards.”

Alex bites his lip.

“Ok, I can’t get around you. I’m going to see if I can just push your wheelchair with my hips.”

He manages to get Charles unstuck, then sets the pile of stuff down.

“I’m sorry, Alex.”

“Don’t be. This is going to be an adjustment. You’re going to have a hard time, and that’s not fair, but we’re going to figure this out together. You’ll get more comfortable with this, just give it time.”

Charles gives him the smallest smile before nodding.

“Thank you.”

“Any time.”

#whumptober #blow to the head #slurred words #passing out from pain #i can't think straight #no. 10 #x men #x men movies #charles xavier #angst #alex summers #writing challenge #whump writing

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egcdeath · 1 year ago

Text

a bundle of nerves

pairing: joel miller x reader (technically part of the soccer parents au, but can 100% be read as a stand alone)

summary: when anxiety paralyzes you in the morning, joel lends you a helping hand.

word count: 1.1k

warnings: au: no apocalypse, kinda hurt/comfort, mostly comfort, fluff, joel is a big softie, kinda body worship later on, reader is very anxious and stressed, run on sentences, established relationship, no use of y/n

author’s note: i can’t believe i’m finally breaking my hiatus!! huge shoutout to @pedges who has listened to the 1000000 thoughts i’ve had over the past few days.

You were so stressed that you thought your heart might burst—but really, that was your fault. Because as stressed as you were, as much as your heart pounded so hard you could feel it in your throat, or how your hands were sweating so hard you had practically created a waterfall—you were still laying in bed, nowhere near ready to take on the day.

Joel had volunteered to take care of the majority of your shared morning duties; waking up early to make breakfast for the kids, bringing them to school, he even packed your work bag so you had one less thing to worry about that morning.

Yet, the head start he’d given you had essentially amounted to zero, as from the time he pressed a kiss to your forehead and wished you good luck, and now, as he came back into the room to grab his watch before dropping the girls off at school, you still laid in bed—wildly sprawled out across the mattress, forehead damp with sweat forcing your undone hair to stick to spots of it, and still in last night’s pajamas.

“Honey, what’s going on?” Joel asked, clearly concerned with your lack of movement and general disarray. Thinking back on your relationship, you weren’t sure that he’d ever seen you stressed to the point of you being strung out.

“I don’t think I can do it,” you confessed, barely budging from where you were laid out, not even shifting your eyes from the ceiling to your boyfriend.

“Yes, you can,” his voice changed a little bit as he sat down next to you. You finally looked over at Joel, into his soft and sympathetic eyes, and felt just a smidge of your stress fade away. “What’s got you feeling this way?”

“I don’t know…” you trailed off, finally managing to sit up so that you could lean against Joel’s steady body. “I’m scared that I’ll fuck up in front of everybody. All of my peers… all of my superiors. After everything I’ve done to get here, I don’t know if I can handle that kind of humiliation.”

Joel wrapped an arm around you as you confessed your fears to him, which only made you feel more secure in telling him your predicament. He obviously cared about what you were worried about, and seemed dead set on genuinely listening to your fears and making you feel heard.

“It’s normal to be scared, honey. But you’ve practiced in front of me more times than I can remember, and you’ve fuckin’ killed it every time,” Joel attempted to console you, giving you a gentle, yet reassuring squeeze.

“But that’s different. I’m comfortable with you, and you probably only said I was good because you have to say I’m good.”

“No, I’d be honest with you if you weren’t. I just didn’t have to be, because you impressed me every time,” he gently nudged you in a way that forced you to look him right in the eye. “You are a force to be reckoned with. They wouldn’t have asked you to do this presentation if you weren’t. You’re one of the smartest, strongest, and most charismatic people I know. You’re gonna go out there, and blow off everyone’s socks, the same way you blew off mine. Now can I help you get ready so you can look as good as you’re gonna do?”

You weren’t even sure how to respond to the praise, so you opted into awkwardly half-chuckling instead. Joel did seem to have a point though, and he said all of the right things with just enough conviction to convince you that maybe getting ready was the right thing to do.

Finally getting out of bed, you freshened yourself up in the bathroom while Joel picked out your freshly dry cleaned skirtsuit from the closet. Once he’d finally found the piece, he’d found you at the vanity, now working on touching up your hair as fast as you could. Being the sweetheart he was, Joel helped you put on your clothes while you multitasked in getting yourself more presentable.

He pressed soft kisses to your ribcage as he helped you get a bra on, peppered kisses on your neck while buttoning your blouse, and trailed his fingers on your thighs while helping you into your skirt. Not only did he make you feel good about your appearance, but made you feel thoroughly loved in the process of doing so.

With your teamwork and multitasking, you had managed to pull yourself together surprisingly quickly, with Joel on his knees helping you slip into heels to complete your outfit just as the sound of his truck’s horn honking began to ring out, a sure sign that the girls were ready to go and tired of waiting for Joel to come down.

“You’re gonna kill it today, honey. And when you get home, we’ll all do something to celebrate, yeah?” he suggested, pressing one last kiss to your knee before standing up.

“Sounds good,” you smiled to yourself, still feeling nervous about your presentation and the risks associated with messing it all up, but feeling infinitely better after Joel helped to prepare you for it, both physically and mentally. “Thank you, Joel. I don’t know if you realized the actual miracle you performed on me this morning, but I really appreciate it. I appreciate you.”

He simply smiled and bashfully shrugged, never a fan of receiving praise for the work he did. He grabbed your hand, and you followed his lead as he took you downstairs, then into the garage where he prepared to say farewell.

What you weren’t expecting was for Joel to pull you into a tight hug, pressing one last kiss into your hair as he held you.

“You’re gonna do great. Just remember that you are the fucking best. I love you,” he informed you, as if he hadn’t made it abundantly clear in every single way that morning.

“Thank you, Joel. I love you too. As much as I would love to stand here and have you tell me how great I’m gonna do, if we don’t get out of here soon, the girls are gonna be late and so will I,” you laughed softly, a warm feeling of love and adoration running through your veins.

“You have a point there,” he chuckled, finally and reluctantly pulling away from you. “Go crush it, honey.”

With him bidding you farewell, and a quick wave to the girls in the backseat of Joel’s truck, you were off to work. While your nerves were still there, you couldn’t deny that Joel’s little routine had made a huge difference on your outlook on the day.

With a smile on your face as you practiced your speech aloud to yourself in the rearview mirror, and far-less shaky hands gripping your steering wheel, you realized that maybe Joel was right.

You were going to do great.

#joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic

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letsdeerintheheadlightsuniverse · 8 months ago

Text

<<Previous Chapter <<

**Masterlist**

>>Next Chapter>>

Pairing: Izzy Hands x gn!reader

Synopsis: And there was only one bed...

A/N: It's me, hi. You know, this chapter was both interesting and difficult to write. I found myself doubting my storytelling abilities, so I genuinely hope that it lives up to the standard of the previous instalments. Please, when you're liking and reblogging these chapters, feel free to comment. It's nice to see people interacting and reacting to my work. It also helps me to know what people are enjoying, so I can tailor my writing, if necessary. Okay, bye now.

Content Warning: Knives, mention of injuries, trauma, hallucinations, mention of drowning and death. I think that's everything. This series is 18+, so minors dni. Go away (politely).

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Sleep was for the weak, and let's just say, you were indeed weak, but as luck may have it, good fortune was not on your side. Despite yours and Izzy's argument about who would take up residence in his bed for the night, the conversation had been for nought, as the suggestion to just share the damn space died upon your tongue, when the first call to attention echoed down the timber halls of the Revenge.

"We're taking water!" you heard Fang's distinctive cry.

"Shit." the silver-haired pirate hissed in annoyance beside you, already making a move to grab his discarded waistcoat and boot.

"That's bad, right?" you asked, nerves rising. You had not experienced a storm of this severity whilst at sea. You certainly had not been on a ship that was taking water. The prospect of the Revenge sinking, twisted your gut into anxious knots. Sure, you could swim but for how long? Even if you did manage to keep a float until the storm passed, how long could you keep your head above water before another ship passed and picked you up? No, correction, if they picked you up.

"'Bad' is a fucking understatement." Izzy all but laughed humourlessly. Not meaning to sound so mocking. Of course you were scared, what normal person would not be fearful of their poor odds of survival? After living a majority of his life at sea, Izzy had grown numb to the liklihood of drowning. He accepted that as a pirate, your days were numbered. Lower even than those who dwelled on land but that was the profession fate had chosen for him. Why fight the inevitable? Despite his grim acceptance, he wanted to pause and comfort you. To lie and say it would be okay. Maybe even pull you into a fleeting kiss, since it seemed unlikely you would all live to see another sunrise. He would have nothing to lose, with the only gain being finally learning just how sweet you tasted.

"Told you Poseiden hates us." your attempt at humour was admirable but the evident shake in your voice caused the delivery to fall flat.

Gods, he adored you. Even when terrified, there was something so disarmingly charming about your personality. "Stay here." Izzy commanded, knowing you were likely to follow him to the deck. As much as your skills would undoubtedly be an asset to the team members already battling against the elements, the mere thought that something horrendous could happen to you, had the First Mate devising a plan to keep you in the hold.

"What, no!" you protested, confused as to why the pirate would want you to stay away from the main deck. Sure, you might not have been as seasoned a pirate as Ed or Fang but you still knew enough to be of use. "You're going to need all competent hands on deck. You said so yourself earlier."

"That's why I need you down here." that's why I need you out of harms way, he thought internally. "Edward's gonna be out on the deck with Bonnet."

"Yeah, so?" you frowned, not quite understanding the trajectory of his point. Where else were the captains going to be, sequestered away in their cabin while everyone risked their life to keep the Revenge sailing? A unlikely story.

"Some of the crew aren't going handle that too well." hell, he was not handling it well but someone had to take charge and consider the wellbeing of the misfit crew. While he himself could not provide them with any actual support, you- oh goodness- you could tame ever the wildest of beasts into submission with your freely given smiles and affections. You had unlocked something long dormant within the silver-haired pirate. Something he assumed he had lost forever in exchange for his reputation and legend.

"Why wouldn't..." then it clicked. You faltered in your questioning, as your mind connected the sickening dots. "Shit, the storm."

"And with Edward at the wheel, it'll be too much for them." For them, he thought bitterly, as if his own mind was not trying to coax him into a state of remembrance. Fuck it, any unwanted flashbacks to that tragic night, all those many moons ago, would just have to haunt him in whatever realm lay beyond this mortal life. Izzy did not have time to focus on his own pain. When did he ever? That being said, each boom of thunder was starting to sound eerily like the shot of a gun.

"What about you?" you implored, knowing that Izzy rarely focused on his own thoughts and feelings. While such a practice made him a ruthless pirate, there was no denying that such strength took a heavy toll on his mental and physical wellbeing.

At the sound of your question and the saddened look upon your features, the First Mate yearned to lie in your arms and have you comfort him in that tender way of yours, that made his knees weak. He had observed time and time again, you whispering sweet nothing to a trembling Frenchie or carefully hold Archie's hand when things got a little too overwhelming. Izzy knew what you were capable of and he wanted to experience it too.

"Fuck off worrying about me. I'm First Mate, my feelings come second to the survival of everyone on this fucking ship, got that?" and there it was, the titular reason you had fallen completely head over heels for one Israel Hands. Too stubborn for his own good. Despite his 'I don't give a fuck' attitude, it was painfully obvious that he did care. He cared so fucking much, to the point it hurt. Figuratively and literally. Whether it was taking a blade on someone's behalf or protecting the crew in the middle of a storm- Izzy's would do anything to keep the crew safe.

Upon recognising this, you realised you would do anything for that man. If he asked you to jump, you would say, 'how high?' His loyalty to others ran deep but yours for him, well, it burned brighter than the hottested of fires. Once a spark, was now a full on flame- all consuming and enveloping every fibre of your very being. You were not just devoted to Izzy, you were a fucking acolyte, ready to fall to your knees and give him whatever he wished to take. "What do you need from me?"

"To stay down here." where I know you'll be safe. Safer. He corrected himself. There was no real 'safe' when it came to a storm of this severity. "Help anyone who needs it. Keep 'em calm and keep 'em below deck. Understood?"

With a nod, you agreed. A small smile played on your lips, as you responded with a familiar, "Yes, boss."

"Can you get to the rec room?"

"I'll manage."

And with a solemn nod, he moved to make his way down the hallway, proceeding as quickly as he could, given the violent swaying of the ship. The unmistakable lump in his throat made it difficult to breathe. Whatever conflicting emotions he was feeling, Izzy needed to push them down- deep down- into the recesses of his very being and focus on the predicament in hand. Though he was pessimistic about the outcome of the night, if there was even a sliver of hope that the crew would all live to witness another day, then he would do everything in his power to ensure you felt the sun grace you skin once more.

Hey, Izzy!" you call made him freeze in place. He had only moved a few few feet away. Had something awful already befelled you in the soace of 20 seconds? He turned with a frown painted on his face. There was still so much left unsaid between you both, that you wished to confess in that moment. Three little words dancing upon your tongue, as they clawed passed the barrier of your lips, demanding the silver-haired pirate's attention. "Please be careful."

"I promise." his vow still echoed in your thoughts for tens of minutes later, when you were finally alone.

It was now your turn to make yourself useful. With Izzy busy helping his captains, you needed to make sure you remained true to your word. Half the crew were still traumatised by their time sailing with the Kraken. Izzy was right about one thing, your friends were going to need all the compassion and support you had to offer, in order to survive this storm. Although an buoyant and intact ship would probably help matters greatly too.

You had often boasted that, you knew the Revenge like the back of your own hand. Even blindfolded, you were sure you could navigate the halls with ease and still find yourself exactly were you needed to be. But during a storm as unforgiving as this one? You were having difficulties staying upright, let alone actually arriving at your chosen destination. With no Izzy to hold on to, you were on your own and praying you did not accidentally smack your head against any of the available surfaces.

So, when you caught sight of your fellow crewmate, Frenchie, exiting one room and disappearing into the storage hold, you were quick- well, as quick as you could manage- to follow him into a slightly cramped space. "Frenchie!" you greeted him, thankful to be out of the hallway. At least in here, there were crates you could grab onto to keep your balance. "Hey, Frenchie. What are you...doing..." whatever you had planned to say next, died upon your lips, as you caught sight of the serrated silver blade he gripped tightly in his first. "Frenchie, what...what's going on?"

You were regarded with wild eyes, as the man before you, saw ghosts of trauma past flicker in and out of existence. "H-He's gonna kill us."

The world around him was not his own. He was reliving the events of a time gone by and all you could do, was try and coax him back to the present. "Who, French? Hey, hey!" you gently turned his head, so that he faced you once more. Tears of frustration spilled down his cheeks in a steady cascade, which you were quick to wipe away. "Look at me." only when he finally met your gaze, did your offer him a sympathetic smile. Your heart ached to see your friend so distraught. So lost. Goodness knows he deserved better. "Hey, what's going on, love?"

"Blackbeard. He's planning to sink the ship with all of us on it." Frenchie murmured, almost allowing himself to lean into your touch.

It was moments like these that got him through each day. Rare instances where he could show vulnerability, without the fearsome gaze of his Captain watching his every move, threatening punishment to any outward display of softness. Izzy had dared to call the environment 'poisoned'. Izzy had paid with his leg. Maybe eventually, his life. Or had he already died? It was so difficult to think straight and remember, there were too many conflicting thoughts spinning around in Frenchie's head. His whole world felt as if it were off kilter or perhaps that was just the storm rocking the ship?

"French-"

"I saw him, he's at the wheel right now!"

"Sweetheart, that's not what's-"

In an instant, his hand reached out to hold onto you, to keep you in place. To keep you near. Safe. Yes, safe, that was it. He...he was going to keep you out of harm's way. Out of the reach of Blackbeard's wrath. Ivan was dead. Izzy, too. Out of everyone else on the ship, you were the softest by far. Too soft for your own good. You needed protecting. "I'm gonna...I'm gonna stop him. You don't have to worry, (y/n)."

"French, Frenchie. Hey," "Hey, listen to me. I know w-what it might look like but it's different this time. Ed's not trying to hurt us. He's steering the ship away from the storm. Stede's up there helping him right now." "Hey French, sweetheart. Why...why don't you give me the knife."

You were losing him or maybe he was already lost. It was too difficult to tell if any of your reassurances would actually reach your crewmate in his time of anguish. You felt like a failure, having promised Izzy to make sure everyone was okay and yet, in Frenchie's time of need, you were clueless on how to bring him back from the brink of insanity. "Frenchie, it's not safe for you to be walking around with a knife. You could slip and hurt yourself." the silver shone in the low light- dangerous and ready to inflict pain. You held no fear for yourself, knowing Frenchie would never dream of hurting you. Hell, he was so hellbent on ensuring your safety, he was willing to kill Ed. "Please, love. Please, give me the-"

The rest of the sentence never fell from your lips, as the remaining lights flickered out in an instant and you felt yourself careen forwards, as the boat threatened to tip onto it's side. Sending you, Frenchie and the knife, tumbling into the surrounding darkness. I'm sorry, Iz. You thought with finality, as your consciousness was snuffed out like the flame of a candle.

"PEEEEEETE!" it was unclear who the scream came from but the sentiment was all shared amongst the crew.

It was not just 'bad', Izzy thought bitterly, as any shred of hope within him withered and died, it was downright fucked. This was it, this must have been how it ended.

"Oh god, oh god. Man overboard! Man overboard!" Stede cried out, alerting all those top deck of the situation. Much to the man's credit, though he could be a bit of a shit Captain, in that moment he at least called everyone to act. Shouting instructions left, right and centre. If there was one Stede Bonnet succeeded in, it was caring about the life and safety of his crew. Of course, he knew what to do if one of them fell over the side of the ship. "Fang, Roach, get the rescue boat ready! We need to get someone in the water to fetch him." upon noticing some of the other pirates still too close to edge for his liking, the blonde was quick to reprimand them. "Everyone else, stay away from the railings! I can't risk having more men in the water."

Whilst Stede was one to preserve life, Ed was a little more reckless in his approach. Not one to sit around and wait for a rescue plan, he was already tying his hair from out of his face and unloading the knives and gun from upon his person. There was a chance he was going to need to swim and the extra weight of weapons would only cause him to sink. "I'm getting in the fishing boat."

"Like hell you are!" his partner reacted indignantly and with good reason. Moments like these called for strategy, not some whim-prone decision, made based purely on emotion rather than logic.

"Shockingly, I agree with Bonnet. Don't be a fucking hero, Edward!" Izzy could not tell if the nausea he was desperately trying to ignore was from the rocking of the ship or the fact he had a actually concured with Stede fucking Bonnet. Ed's reaction did not surprise the First Hand, he had played witness to his Captain's saviour complex on more than one occasion. Hell, him saving Bonnet after the twat had been stabbed, was definitely motivated by the same instinct, that drove him towards making such a rash decision now.

Of course, the two mens' protests fell upon deaf ears. Ed had made up his mind. This was not his first man overboard- probably would not be the last either- and he was co-captain, after all. Why should he not sacrifice himself for the life of his crew? "Buttons, take over from me!" he instructed, leaving his place at the wheel.

"Aye, aye, Captain, sir!"

Oh no, you don't, Stede cursed, refusing to let the great love of his life be so reckless. He could sense the guilt radiating off of Ed from a mile off. "Buttons, stay at your station." he barked, leaving no room for arguments from the mystic shipmate.

"Yes, Captain."

But why could Stede not see that he needed to do this? Ed thought, immediately picturing Lucius's face, when they told him the news that Pete was dead, that he had drowned because there were not enough hands on deck. The next question would be, where was everyone? And then, all eyes would immediately be directed towards Ed. It was his fault. It was always his fucking fault! If half the crew weren't so traumatised by his previous behaviour, then Pete..."No, Buttons-"

"I'll go."

And just like that, the bickering between the two lovers ceased in an instant. Thise two words echoed louder than any resounding crash of thunder. In that moment, Ed thought he felt his entire world shift off of it's axis. "Iz-"

While it was true that the two men had once shared a conplicated relationship that could not be conventionally defined, there was no denying that either had love for the other. It might not have been the same kind that Ed shared with Stede but it was present all the same. It was this exact love that fuelled Izzy's decision to go in place of his Captain. "Crew needs you, Edward. It's too risky."

Without Ed aboard the ship, the responsibility would fall upon Stede and Izzy's shoulders. With those kinds of odds, the crew of the Revenge would definitely be fucked. No one knew how to navigate a storm quite like Blackbeard and live to tell the tale.

Plus, as much as he hated to admit it, should anything happen to Ed, fucking Bonnet would be inconsolable. The twat had already experienced the stages of grief when Ed went to the gravy basket the first time around. No man should not have to go through that again so soon, even if it was the so called Gentleman Pirate.

Not that Izzy was doing this just for the benefit of his useless co-captain. With Ed still manning the ship, the crew would have a slightly higher chance of survival. You woukd have a chance of survival. If Izzy could not give you the kind of love and adoration you so deserved, then he would give you the opportunity to live and find that kind of companionship with someone worthy of your affections.

"Hello, is someone getting in the fecking boat or not, you've got a man drowning here, for fucks sake!" Wee John yelled, as the heaven's poured down upon them in a fit of unrestrained fury. It was getting increasingly more and more difficult to see the tumultuous waves below through the onslaught of rain.

"I am!" the First Mate returned the call, hellbent on remaining defiant until the end. "Say the order, Edward. Please. Don't fight me on this." he all but begged.

Oh, how Ed wanted to tell Izzy to 'fuck off', to curse the silver-haired pirate until his voice ran hoarse and even after that, curse him some more. How dare the First Mate be the voice of reason! How dare he...how dare he be right. "Go. Get on that fucking boat but you listen to me, First Mate Israel fucking Hands," if Izzy did not know better, he would have assumed Ed grabbing him by the lapels of his waistcoat, was a genuine threatening act but, that was just it, he did know better. He could see the fear reflected back at him in those terrified brown eyes. "I want you back on this boat in one piece, understood?" he hissed but there was no venom in his demands.

"Understood, Captain." he nodded before he was roughly pushed away.

The thudding sound of the door to the hold opening was completely lost amongst the cacophony of the surrounding chaos. It was only when Lucius called out to his Captain, that Stede noticed in horror, that the Scribe had abandoned his post. "Captain Bonnet!"

No, no, no! The blonde thought, abandoning Ed and Izzy's side, in favour of meeting the crewmate half way across the decking. The Scribe could not be up here! Not now! What if he were to notice Pete's missing presence or hear news about a man overboard, then what? Hysterics would ensue and that was the last thing the already struggling crew needed. Bless the young man's heart, he would be justified in his reaction but there was already so much going on, that needed everyone's full, uninterrupted attention. "Lucius, get back inside, now! It's too dangerous out here!"

"We need Roach, Captain! It's-"

With Stede dealing with the Scribe, the rest of the crew quickly got the fishing boat ready for it's latest voyage it the treacherous unknown. "Lower him down, lads!" the descent had begun. With one final nod of acknowledgement to his captain, Izzy readied himself of the recovery mission ahead. "Easy now!"

"Lucius, please. I need you to go back to the rec room. I can't risk..." but the unexpected sight of crimson perturbed the conscientious pirate, who was only wanting to protect Lucius's mental state in that moment. All thoughts of Pete beliw the waves, Izzy in that fragile fishing boat upon the turbulent waters, even the image of Ed willing to sacrifice his safety only moments ago, completely faded when Stede finally took in the Scribe's dishevelled state. The meaning behind the words finally fell into place. One of his crew was hurt. Badly enough that they needed the assistance of the cook/medic. "Who's blood is that?" the Captain's mind was already mentally ticking off names of those still below deck.

Jim, Archie, Oluwande, (y/n), Frenchie...

"There's been an accident in the storage area." was all that Lucius could managed to croak out. Fuck, there was so much blood and no matter what they did, it just kept spilling upon the wooden floors. The Scribe had slipped in it twice just trying to scramble towards the nearest exit. No doubt the quantity would have doubled by the time he actually managed to retrieve help.

There was no way the deck crew could spare a man, especially not with two already in the water. They needed all the help they could get, Stede rationalised. Roach woukd have to remain where he was, which coukd only have meant..."Ed!" the blonde called to his partner, not wishing to distract him for too long. The long-haired pirate momentarily tore his gaze away from the form of his First Mate, concerned that there was more trouble afoot upon the ship. Though his worry was well-placed, Stede did not want to add any more stress to the already life or death situation. "Stay up here with Buttons! There's something I need to check!" he instructed as vaguely as possible, hoping Ed would not question him too much.

Already, Blackbeard's suspiscions were heightened, glancing between the struggle taking place in the water and...wait, was that blood? He stood up in an instant, insticts screaming at him to not abandon his post and yet, how could he not? Someone else was hurt. He was no medic by any means but...but..."What's happened?!" he called back, booming voice nearly getting lost in another flare of thunder and lightning.

Who else was downstairs? He panicked, struggling to remember everyone's names. He was so much better with faces. Right, Archie, Lucius- no, Lucius was standing next to Stede. Swede? No, he was...where was he? Right, right repairing the mast rigging. Who did that leave?

As soon as Ed took that step forward, Stede knew he had to quickly intervene and implore his partner to remain at his post. The outside crew needed an adept leader, who knew how to deal with the sea's rage. Whatever was going on below deck, Stede was more than assured that he could handle it. Yes, he was no medic but he had been run through enough times to know how to perform a basic suture. "Just trust me, please?!"

And how could Ed disrgard sych a request, especially when Stede looked at him like that? That expression that begged him to implicitly trust the man he loved and ask questions later. "Always!"

And he did. He well and truly did. Ed would always trust Stede with every fibre of his being. Now and forever.

With the situation up top now being supervised by Ed, Stede returned his attention to the terrified young man. The Captain was sure the trembling was not just due to the icy wind and sheets of cool rain that pelted them from every direction. He was scared and that told Stede everything he needed to expect from the dilemma in the storage room. "Show me." he murmured, already leading Lucius towards the stairs.

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A/N: Oh no! Someone below deck has been gravely injured, I wonder who it could be...I guess you'll just have to wait until Chapter 5 to find out. See you soon!

P.S. I know I said they were going to share a bed. I just didn't say when exactly that would happen. Maybe keep an eye out for Chapter 6.

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devastator1775 · 1 month ago

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Nix comes out with the truth (Murder Drones Nix Doorman AU)

Summary: Nix had it all planned. She'd go to her parents, sit them down and tell them. Plain and simple. Just …come out with the thing that had been in the back of her head for so long now. Simple, right? …. Unless, of course, her nerves get the better of her.

Nix paced from one end of her room to the other, muttering to herself. She had been this for at least half an hour, since she had come back home from school. She had decided to finally come clean to her parents and reveal something that she had been struggling with for a few weeks now. On her way home she was filled with confidence and determination. She would stand in front of her parents and proudly make her announcement.

And then she came home.

And nerves overtook her.

Hence why she was pacing around her room, almost chewing off one her fingers.

“I mean, there no way they’d be mad, right? I mean, nah. Not my parents. I mean, they love Aunties V and Lizzy. No, it’ll be fine.” Nix said to herself, bringing herself to smile confidently …before it faded to a worried grimace. “But what if they don’t? What if they hate me for it? What if-“

“Dude, you’re going to blow a fuse like that!” a voice called out, making Nix jump in surprise.

Nix took a deep breath and turned to her desk, where her phone still connected to Avery – her honorary cousin and the one person she trusted who had gone through something similar. Which is why she had called them, yet somehow that little event had completely evaded her mind while she was nervously talking to herself. She walked over to her desk and picked up her phone. “Sorry, Avery, forgot you were here …so to speak.”

“Uh-huh, I had that feeling, miss talks-to-herself-a-lot.” Nix could practically hear the shit-eating grin that Avery had on their face right now. The thought made her feel a little better. “Honestly, Nixie, just get it out. Better to throw it all in the open, than to let it bottle up inside where it can build up and burst. Trust me on that.”

“Uh, the way I remember, Ave, is that your moms were walking in on us while you were trying out some of Aunt Liz’s old school uniforms.” Anne chuckled. “And you were making so many panicking excuses that you suddenly just blurted out the truth. There was no ‘build up and burst’ with you.”

“My point exactly!” Avery shouted. “And after a good cry and a long talk, everything worked out between us. Just like -*snap* - that!.”

“Still totally different than what I’m gonna do.” Nix flopped down on her bed, staring at her ceiling. “You got caught – you did, don’t deny it – and it worked out. What if-?”

“It will work out!” Avery repeated themselves. “Nix, your parents are, like, totally the nicest people I know – and I’m counting my mom V with that.”

Nix chuckled. “Yeah …can you still believe people saying that she was so much worse back when?”

“I still don’t believe she was a Disassembly Drone at all. My mellow, librarian mom …like that? Right, no way. It’s like- yatatata, don’t change the subject!.” Avery scolded – they sounded so much like V right now.

“It was worth a try …” Nix grinned. Her audio receptors picked up the sounds of doors closing outside her room. She took a deep breath. “Mom and dad are here. Wish me luck, Avery.”

“Luck!”

Nix ended the call. She closed her eyes for a few moments as she gathered her courage.

“Nix, you here, Sparkplug?” She heard her father call out to her from their living room.

“Y-yeah, in my room!” Nix answered, hoping she really didn’t sound as nervous as she thought how nervous she sounded. She took a deep, final – hopefully not that final – breath and walked out her room. “Hey, I’ve got something to tell y-“

The rest of her words got caught in her throat as she immediately felt her confidence fade when she saw her mother laying down on the couch with her head resting on N’s lap and the latter pressing an icepack against his wife’s forehead. “E-everything alright, mom?”

Uzi let out a soft groan. “Yeah, just …a [parental advisory] day at work.”

“Uzi.” N scolded, despite the grin tugging on his lips.

“What, her censor routines are still powered on.” she paused for a moment before she threw a glance at her teenage daughter. “Are they?”

“Y-yes, sure …” Now they were, at least. Nix had figured out a long time ago where those hidden settings were in her programming. Little trick that Avery had taught her, so they could watch R-rated action movies with unfiltered audio when their parents were out.

“Good girl.” Uzi closed her eyes again, smiling contently as N caressed her hair. “You said you wanted to tell us something, Nix?”

Panic welled up in Nix’s core. “I-it can wait.” She winced when she heard her voice crack in such an obvious way and of course her parents had heard it too. She tried to back away as she saw her mother sit up straight, giving her that motherly ‘something-is-wrong’ look. “I’ll just go back to my room and-“

“Nicole…” N spoke up, his voice soft and calm but it made Nix nevertheless freeze in her tracks, her entire body going rigid as she let out a surprised squeak.

“Nix, what’s the matter?” Uzi asked, clearly concerned about her daughter’s current state.

“N-nothing.” Nix fiddled with her fingers.

“Did something happen at school?” N asked.

“No, honestly.” Why did she sound so desperate to avoid this? Okay, maybe she was kinda trying to avoid it, but … She squeaked again when she suddenly saw her mother right in front of her. Her mother could be so fast when she wanted to be. A pair of hands gently held her arms.

“Nix?”

It was like a heavy weight had nestled inside her forehead, as Nix couldn’t bare herself to lift up her head to watch her mother in the eye.

“Honey, did something happen?” Uzi asked softly. “Did someone hurt you?”

Nix shook her head. “It’s …” Her voice sounded so weak, she hated it.

N ushered Uzi and Nix to come back to the couch, where Uzi gently sat her daughter down while she and N knelt in front of her.

N placed a hand under Nix’s chin and gently lifted it up, making her look at them. Nix didn’t know why but his gently smile always had such a soothing effect on her. She couldn’t help but to smile …but just a bit.

“Oh, I do think I see a little smile under all that gloom.” N joked, chuckling as his wife shoved him in the ribs.

“Nix, your dad’s horrible jokes aside,“ she threw her husband a teasing sideways glance. “We just want to know what is bothering you.”

“W-why would anything bothering me?” Nix asked, playing nervously with her hair.

“You’re playing with your hair.” N pointed out. “You do that when you’re nervous.”

“Like when you were lying when you got an F on your homework because your forgot it.” Uzi added. She crossed her arms, giving her daughter a stern look. “Is this something like that?”

“No …it’s …completely different.” Nix admitted. “It’s just …difficult to find the words?”

“Just that?” N asked, placing a hand on Nix’s knee. “It looks like a bit more than ‘not finding words’, though….”

Nix knew they were gonna grill her until they got answers. She knew they did it because they loved her and they wanted her to be okay, but …no, no ‘but’. Because of that, she needed to tell them the truth. They did everything for her and for that, Nix needed to be honest with them.

“Okay, okay …” Nix took a deep breath, slowly releasing it as she tried to steady her core, so it wouldn’t feel like it was going to burst out of her chassis at any moment. “There is something I need to tell you, but …”

“Yes?” Uzi pressed softly, trying her utmost best not to push beyond Nix’s comfort level. She knew – out of personal experience – how a teenager could lash out when pressed beyond their limit of comfort. Robo-God knows that her dad had faced the brunt of her anger so often …completely justified, of course

“I …I’m scared.” Nix confessed.

“Scared?” Uzi asked, surprised. “Of what?”

“Of us?” N asked.

“Of how you’ll react …”

Uzi and N looked at each other, before turning back to Nix. Uzi held her child’s hands between her own. “React to what, Nix?”

No turning back now. Time to come clean. The curtain falls. The code cracked. The teenager running out of expressions to use to stall for time. One final, deep breath.

“For the last …couple of months, I’ve been …noticing things. Noticing certain …people. Certain …g-genders?” Nix began. Something in her core jumped when she saw her parents’ expression change, even though she couldn’t decipher what emotion it was. “I noticed that I’ve been looking at the girls in my class a little more, a little longer. And when I realized that was happening, I decided to look some things up, got a few digi-books recommended I should read. And, you know, once I remembered that I never really looked at boys that same way, I ….”

She gulped, trying to find out her voice again while she was figuring out what her parents were thinking. Maybe they wanted to say something about what she’d been telling them so far?

…

No? Okay, back to speaking, then.

Nix took a deep breath. Her entire body was tingling, and she felt like her system was going to shut down. “I …I like girls. Really like them. Like …I’m attracted to them. Romantically. I’m often fantasizing about holding hands with girls, kissing girls, dating girls. I-I-I…I’m gay. I’m a lesbian.”

Nix figured that that knot inside her stomach should have loosened up by now, but it felt tighter than ever. She couldn’t feel her legs. She was sure that she was mere moments away from passing out due to stress related energy loss.

Why weren’t her parents saying something?

They were just staring at her?

Processing the information? Judging? Trying to figure out if they really heard what they just heard?

“W-well?” Nix voice was barely audible.

She felt her core jump when N suddenly stood up and walked away from the couch, hand pressed against his mouth. Was he in shock? Getting angry? Was he disappointed in his only daughter?

A pair of hands fell on Nix’s shoulders, making her jump. Oh yeah, her mom was still her too. Uzi was gazing down at the floor, her expression hidden from the anxiety-riddled teenager. She wanted to call out to her mom, but it seemed that Nix’s voice abandoned her at the moment, only coming out as a barely audible squeak.

“Nicole Doorman …I can’t believe you’d do this to me.”

Nix’s core sank and ice filled her entire being.

“I can’t believe you made me lose the bet.”

Wait, what?

A small, slightly apologetic grin, appeared on Uzi’s lips. “I mean, I thought that, at least, you’d be bi, like me.” She sighed. “But it seems your father had it at the right end and now he’s never going let me live it down.”

“Uzi, when did our daughter ever show any sort of interest in boys?” N asked, as he turned towards his wife and daughter with a massive grin on his face.

“There was …” Uzi paused. “Well, I guess that doesn’t really count, since that person is going by ‘she’ and ‘Sally May’ now, but –“

“Excuse me!” Nix called out, announcing that she was still in the room. “Very surprised and very emotional adolescent Drone sitting here!”

“Oh honey …” Uzi caressed her daughter’s cheek. “I’m sorry. We should be handling this a little better, shouldn’t we?”

“Yeah, you got that right!” Nix’s emotion were all over the place. Confusion. Anger. Relief. Many others. She took a deep breath before stating her question. Which was, very simply: “You knew?”

“We didn’t ‘know it’ know it, but we had our suspicions.” N confessed.

“HOW?” Nix suddenly realized the bombshell her mother had dropped earlier. “Wait, you’re bi, mom?”

“Not really the topic at hand, isn’t it?” Uzi quickly stated, blushing softly and ignoring the teasing chuckle of her husband. Uzi took her daughter’s hands in her own, giving them a soft squeeze. “Nix, our little Sparkplug, we …are your parents. You are your daughter. We know you. We notice things, even if you don’t realize we’re looking.”

“But that book titled ‘Your robo-sexuality and you. A quest for LGBTQIA+ understanding’ you forgot to put away and was laying in the middle of your bed, gave us some clues as well. You really should clean up your room more often.” N confessed with a soft chuckle. “But even without it, we had a feeling.”

Nix’s eyes hollowed. They found that book? She was sure that she had …hang on, not the pressing issue. “So, why didn’t you say anything?” she asked, still blushing.

Uzi cackled for a moment, before she composed herself. “Sorry about laughing like that, but …we thought that ’Honey, can we have a really awkward talk around the diner table about your unlocking sexuality?’ wasn’t really something you were waiting for.”

“So we waited for you.” N smiled reassuringly at Nix. “Until you were ready to come to us.”

“Honey, we are so proud of you, for coming out to us, despite being so anxious and so scared.”

“Yeah, we kinda pressed on the issue there, but-“ he grinned sheepishly when Uzi shot him a scolding look. “Shutting up. But, like Uzi said, we are so proud of you.”

“And we love you.” Uzi held her daughter’s head between her hands. “No matter who you decide you love.”

Flabbergasted. Stumped. Surprised. Baffled. Dazed. Perplexed. Puzzled. Dumbfounded. Flustered. Stupefied. Awestruck. Floored. There were so many words for what Nix was experiencing right now. All of that fear and anxiety she had been feeling. All the buildup leading to her coming-out moment. For days, she had been working up the courage to confess to her parents. Out of all the reactions that her parents could give her …’we had a feeling’ was one she didn’t count for.

It was …laughable.

A snort escaped her. She tried to apologize, but then a giggle got out, followed by another. She tried to keep it in, but she suddenly bursted out in laughter …for a few moments, before it slowly changed into a sob …then another sob. She started crying, wailing as digital tears started to flow down her visor when the emotions that she had been experiencing these last few moments finally found release.

Two pair of arms wrapped around her, each pulling her close. Her dad was stroking her back, holding her head against his chest. Her mom was her hair while whispering words of comfort to her.

“’m s’rry.” Nix tried to choke out, gasping for air – despite not really needing it – and trying to calm herself down.

“Shhh, let it out, Nix.” Uzi whispered warmly, as she gently pulled her daughter against her chest. She couldn’t help but smile as Nix clung to her clothes, sobbing out her apologies. A tear was forming in her eyes as well.

“Our strong girl.” N stated softly but with pride in his voice. The grin on his face made Uzi think back on their wedding day. It was the same goofy, happy smile back then too.

Nix didn’t know how much time had passed. It felt like she had been crying for hours, even though she figured there hadn’t even half an hour passed.. Her sobbing had died down to small hiccups, her head still resting comfortably on her mother’s lap while the latter was stroking her daughter’s hair.

“Are you feeling better, Nix?” Uzi asked when Nix finally found the energy to sit up again.

“Mm-hmmm.” Nix rubbed her visor. Her eyes felt dry, even though it's not really possible. She took a deep breath and smiled at her mom. “sorry for breaking down like that.”

“Honey, never apologize for things like that. Never to us.” Uzi stated, caressing her daughter’s cheek. It didn't show, but Uzi had been crying as well, as did N. “It was an emotional rollercoaster, after all.”

“Besides, you should’ve seen Uzi’s outburst when we-“

“Bite me, husband!” Uzi spat out but the grin on her face betrayed that she didn’t mind. She turned to Nix with a grin. “So …is there someone special?”

Nix instantly blushed, playing with a strand of her hair. “N-no …not really.”

“Oh?” N almost seemed disappointed. “No-one I can give a ‘what are your intentions with my daughter?’ speech to yet?”

“I thought there was, but …turns out she doesn’t – how did Avery put it? – play for the same team.”

“Wait, you told Avery before us?” Uzi asked, a hint of a teasing grin playing on her lips. “I don’t know how to feel about that.”

“Avery is kinda an expert – or the closest thing to it – on the subject of ‘life-changing realizations and how to present them to your parents’, y’know.”

“Some expert.” Uzi snorted. “Did V and Lizzy walk in on them?”

“Yeah, while you two were trying on dresses?”

“That’s what I told them, too.” Nix giggled. Her expression turned bittersweet. “But …I don’t know, it felt like they were the only ones I could go with this, quote-unquote, “problem” of mine. We’ve always been each other’s confidants, y’know?”

“Did V and Lizzy know before us?” Uzi asked sharply.

“Avery swore she wouldn’t tell before I told you guys, but, eh …you know how Auntie V can get when she sniffs a secret.”

“Well, if V knows, she’d keep it a secret, too.” N stated as he ruffled Nix’s hair, much to her chagrin. He scratched the side of his chin before adding. “Robo-Lord knows she knows how to keep ‘em.”

“Huh? What does that mean?” Nix cocked her head in confusion, while Uzi threw N a warning glare.

“Uh, nothing.” N quickly answered, as digital beads of sweat ran down his visor. “Something between the three of us.”

Nix rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

“Well, someone is back to being a moody teenager.” Uzi grinned. “Feeling better?”

“Feeling great!” Nix stated cheerfully, and it couldn’t be more true.it was like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She felt like she could fly – if only she had inherited wings like her dad, but at least she could dream.

Nix grinned as she thought about the advice that Avery had given her. Who knew they were right, although in a different order: A good talk, a long cry and everything worked out great.

*SNAP*

Just like that.

#murder drones #fanfiction #nix doorman au #uzi doorman #serial designation n #MD N #murder drones N #Nix Doorman

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bamber344 · 3 months ago

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Mindfuck

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Alright so y'all remember how i mentioned last chapter this story would include smutty stuff? yeah that starts here lol.

we're back to jordyn's POV! it hasn't been that long but i still missed my girl :) Btw if this chapter reads a little bit like an anatomy textbook, please know that was intentional. Jordyn knows her anatomy but she doesn't have any other frame of reference for stuff so when it comes down to it she's gonna use the anatomical terms lol

anyway i hope you all find the title as funny as i did when i came up with it. Enjoy!

CWs: sexual content, masturbation, existential crises, minor cosmic horror, hallucinations, seizures, minor medical whump, eldritch whump ig? man tagging for cws is hard

Mindfuck

Wind whipped through my hair as I looked out at the sunset over the bay. Salt stung my nose and the breeze made goosebumps spread over my bare arms, but between the relaxing sound of the waves, the breathtaking sparkle of sunlight across the water, and the warmth of the woman standing next to me, there was no place I’d rather be. Anxiety churned in my gut as I thought about what I was about to do. The odds of her saying no were miniscule, but still. It was nerve-wracking nonetheless.

“Maddie?” I asked in a voice similar to mine, but not quite the same.

“Hm?” The woman next to me looked over with a questioning glance. It was the one Father told me to stay away from. She looked younger, though. Her hair was longer, tied into a ponytail over her shoulder. Madeline.

I took a deep breath and turned to her, reaching into my pocket. Madeline’s eyes widened as I got down on one knee and pulled out the box, opening it to reveal the ring inside. This was it. The moment of truth.

“Madeline Holmes, will you marry me?”

For a long moment, everything was silent. Madeline stared down at me, eyes wide as dinner plates and mouth hanging open. Then, she started laughing. Dread seeped through my body.

“Oh, man. What are the odds, huh?” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a box of her own. Inside was another ring; inset with a sparkling red jewel. “I was just about to ask you the same thing.”

The dread crumbled to dust and pure elation took its place. I leapt up and wrapped my arms around Madeline’s neck, laughter bubbling up from within me. Madeline picked me up and spun me around, holding me close. I couldn’t believe my luck. It was actually happening!

We stopped spinning and I settled back on the ground, still holding on to Madeline’s neck. She smiled, bending down until our foreheads were touching.

“How could I ever say no to you?”

She leaned in and pressed her mouth to mine, and I knew everything would turn out alright.

—

Her tongue streaked across my neck and I shivered, a moan escaping from my throat. Light from the full moon streamed in from the window, illuminating the scene of our bodies tangled together in the bedsheets. I could do nothing but hold on for dear life as Madeline’s fingers traced down my belly, through my pubic hair, and slipped between the folds of my outer labia. The sensation was instant and intense, especially when combined with the softness of her mouth on my throat.

Her touch travelled down to my vaginal opening, rubbing teasingly over the outside of the hole before moving back up, sliding two fingers on either side of my clitoris and squeezing, very gently. I jerked, letting out a gasp. Madeline smiled against my skin.

“So sensitive…”

“Sh- shut up… Like you weren’t a wh-whiny mess when I fingered you.”

Madeline paused and leaned up on an elbow. The moonlight framing her face made her look ethereal. She grinned.

“Well, if you’re gonna be like that I guess I’ll-”

She began pulling her hand away. Immediately, I squeezed my legs shut and grabbed her wrist, trapping it there.

“If you stop now I swear to god I’ll set your hair on fire.”

Madeline laughed. Her gaze held so much love that it was hard to breathe. “If you say so.”

She leaned back down and her lips touched mine again, her tongue sneaking into my mouth. I groaned, shifting my hips up as her fingers started moving again.

Things became a blur after that point. Between the intoxicating feeling of Madeline’s body on top of mine and the unimaginable pleasure she was conjuring between my legs, the finer details started to seem unimportant. Something was building at the base of my spine, and it seemed like Madeline could sense it. The movements of her fingers became focused; pumping in and out at a steadier rhythm, pressing and sliding in all the right places to make me squirm and keen.

Madeline’s teeth sunk into the skin of my neck, and a jolt of pleasurable pain shot through my system. That was what did it. That incredible thing that was building finally reached its peak and spilled over, sending waves of electricity through my body. Heat flushed under my skin and I cried out as all of my muscles tensed up from the sheer ecstasy coursing inside of me. It was amazing. It was the best thing I’d ever felt. It-

—

I opened my eyes, doused in cold sweat and breathing heavily. The room was dark, illuminated only by the dim light above the mirror. I must have forgotten to turn it off before going to sleep. The hum of the ventilation system rang loud in my ears. My head was throbbing, and my entire body tingled with the remnants of the dream, coalescing in the same spot that dream-Madeline had been touching, right between my legs. What the hell just happened?

Overcome with curiosity, I reached down, slipping my hand under the waistband of my pants. Something cold, wet, and slimy had coated the inside of my thighs and drenched my underwear. I frowned, probing further.

“Oh!”

Wow, I was sensitive right now. But… just like the dream, it felt good. Obviously, I’d touched my own genitals before, but it never felt like this. My entire vulva had become slick with fluid, and my clitoris had become erect; a hard, sensitive nub peeking out from under the hood, throbbing in time with my heart beat. Maybe… Maybe I could replicate the feeling from the dream? I swallowed, nerves filling my throat, and put two fingers to it just like Madeline did.

Too much! That was way too much pressure. I was on the right track, but I needed to be more careful. I tried again, much softer this time.

That was it. My muscles relaxed and I let out a sigh as I gently circled my fingers around my clitoris. Everything around me melted away until all that remained was the pleasure between my legs and the memories of that dream in my head; the images fueling my movements. It was all too easy to imagine that I was back in the dream, and that Madeline was the one touching me instead of my own hand. I didn’t even know the woman, but something about it just felt right; like things were settling in where they were meant to be.

The woman in my mind sank her fingers lower and I followed, tracing around the edge of my vaginal opening. In the dream, Madeline’s fingers had slipped in with ease, but I was nervous. I’d never done this before, which meant I needed to be careful. I didn’t want it to turn out like the first time I tried to eat solid food; choking because I was too eager and didn’t chew enough.

Slowly, I slid one finger past the entrance, biting my lip at the feeling of my inner walls parting for it. Once I got it about as deep as I felt comfortable with, I experimented with thrusting it in and out.

“Ngh!”

Wow, that was good. My body craved more; heat spreading under my skin and making me sweat. I swallowed my fear and gently added another finger in. The stretch of my hole burned slightly, but for some reason that made it even better. I shifted over onto my side, curling my body and finally pulling my pants off to allow myself more leeway with my movements, and really got into it.

“O-oh, g-g-god…”

It was incredible. The palm of my hand sat directly on top of my clitoris, providing delicious pressure and friction as I pumped my fingers in and out. I could barely stifle the noises escaping from my throat as every thrust sent a jolt of electricity through me. Drool dripped from my open mouth onto my pillow, but I couldn’t find it within myself to care.

It was building again, just like in the dream, only so much more intense. I squeezed my eyes shut and focused, straining my wrist to move harder and faster to reach that amazing peak again. The rise felt like it would never end, but every time my muscles began to tire, another spike of pleasure would shoot through me and motivate me to keep pushing. Compared to my usual training, this was practically a cakewalk.

Finally, it came. I bit the pillow to stifle my cry as my entire body seized and spasmed, my walls clenching around my still-pumping fingers and my thighs tensing up to an almost painful degree. Warm liquid gushed against my hand, spilling down onto my sheets. It was at least twenty seconds of pure bliss as my vision flickered black and shadows writhed up and down the walls.

I laid there for a good minute afterwards, not moving, just catching my breath and reflecting on what had just happened. I seriously needed to remember how to do that, because wow. I was almost disappointed I hadn’t figured it out earlier. I gently pulled my fingers out, wincing at the slight overstimulation. Unsurprisingly, they were covered in a transparent, viscous fluid that stringed together when I pulled my fingers apart. It smelled tangy.

Curiosity overcame my common sense, and I tentatively gave my fingers a lick. The taste wasn’t as bad as I was expecting. In fact, it was kind of good. Sweet but a little tart. Maybe if I’d been more lost in the heat of the moment, I would have just finished what I’d just started, but now that it was all said and done, I would rather just wash my hands off in the sink.

As I put my pants back on and got up, my mind started to wander. Where did that dream come from? Most of the time, my dreams were nonsensical mish-mashes of things I’d seen throughout the day, disappearing from my mind not long after waking up. It wasn’t uncommon for me to see people I know, especially Father, but something about what I just saw felt… different.

For one, it actually made internal sense. It wasn’t just a slideshow of random events and images; it was a consistent storyline that followed a linear narrative. First, I was at the bay with Madeline, and I asked her to marry me. (Could two girls even get married? I’d heard about it between a man and a woman from people in the facility as well as Father, but no one had mentioned two people of the same gender getting married before. I couldn’t see why it wouldn’t be possible, though. I supposed I would just have to ask Father about it at some point.) Then, it was later at night, and I was with Madeline in bed, and all of that happened.

Another weird thing was how different Madeline looked from how I remembered her appearing during the day. In the dream, her hair was long instead of shaved and shaggy, and her face had a certain roundness to it that it currently lacked, making her appear younger. Usually, in my dreams, people just showed up how I remembered them looking in real life. It just didn’t make sense.

It was when I was washing my hands in the sink that the thought occurred to me. What if it wasn’t just a dream? What if… What if I’d finally remembered something?

For as far back as I could remember; from the moment I woke up and coughed the green out of my lungs, my past had been a blank slate. Father said I lost my memories when I was hurt, and beyond that I never really questioned it. I never wondered who I used to be before waking up in the facility, because it never really felt like it mattered. I was right where I was meant to be, so who cared what I’d done with my life before that? Only now, it seemed like something had finally come back; a lingering vestige of an interaction I had at some point with Madeline. But… What did that mean?

Father always wanted what was best for me, right? He knew what was best for me, and he was always guiding me towards that target, even if it hurt sometimes. But, if that was the case, then how did Madeline fit in? He ordered me to stay away from her. Especially her, over all of the other Union heroes. According to the dream/memory/whatever, though, I’d been close with her at some point. Close enough to ask her to marry me, even. Did something happen between us that Father was trying to protect me from? It was all so damn confusing!

I looked up at the girl in the mirror. I saw her shaved head, the sallow tan of her skin, the dark holes of her black irises and the bags beneath her eyes. I saw the scar cutting across her cheek and onto her nose. That scar was from a training accident. That, and most of the rest of them. There wasn’t a single scar on my body that I couldn’t remember getting. Where were the remnants of the injury that supposedly changed my life forever? What about injuries before that? Was whatever Father used to heal me so strong that it literally erased all of my scars? If that was the case, why had I been forced to bear the remnants of my pain all this time when Father could just heal them away?

I gripped the cold porcelain of the sink, staring hard into the mirror. What was real? Was what I saw really a memory, or was it just some hyper-realistic dream? Why was my body so damn inconsistent? Why couldn’t I remember anything from my past? Why was Father keeping me away from people who might know me? Who…

“Who am I?” I muttered to the girl in the reflection, anxiety clawing at my throat. “Who are you? Are we… Jordyn? Seven? Someone else? I… I- I don’t know…”

Pain shot through my head like someone driving a knife into my temple. Cold fingers of sensation rippled across my brain. Something warm dripped from my nose, and some primal thing inside of me shrank away in fear. I got the horrible feeling that I was being watched. I could feel the eyes all around me, looking in. My entire being screamed in alarm at the threat of a predator; the ancient prey instinct inside of me thrashing uselessly against its bonds. A petrifying self-awareness settled over me, and I knew – I could feel that some powerful, terrifying presence was observing not just me, but the very thoughts inside my head.

I felt those cold fingers pry into my mind, digging through my memories and throwing images of my life up before my eyes. The pain was immense; overwhelming. My knees buckled out from under me. My ears popped, and more warm liquid dribbled from them. I could feel my skull cracking as my brain expanded, pushing against the boundaries of its container. The pressure at the back of my eyes was building. I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that my head was going to explode.

Then, all of a sudden, everything stopped. The pain and the screaming and the vivid memories all ceased to exist in an instant, replaced by the cold tile floor and the hum of the ventilation system. I blinked, trying to process what had just happened as I slowly climbed back to my feet.

There was a girl in the mirror.

She looked like me. Almost identical, even. She had the same eyes, the same nose, the same mouth. Only, her skin was a little darker, unmarked by my training accident scar, and her hair was long; tied back in a ponytail. She was dressed in a costume not too dissimilar to the ones I’d seen Madeline and Vivienne wearing; a skin-tight black patterned material, with red highlights. There was a hole in her chest.

She looked panicked, confused. Her eyes darted around the room, searching for a threat, until she found me. We stared at each other for a long moment. Her mouth moved, but no sound came out. I grabbed the sink, leaning forward. She reached out to me, but her hand stopped when it reached the mirror.

“Are… Are you me?” I asked.

—

I opened my eyes.

The girl had disappeared, along with the mirror and the rest of my room. I recognised the ceiling above me as the one in the medbay. There was an oxygen mask over my mouth, and a heart monitor beeped along rhythmically in the corner. My head was throbbing again, and my throat stung like I’d swallowed a handful of nails. Everything ached.

Father sat at my bedside, leaning over with his eyes closed, mouth hidden behind his steepled hands. A bead of sweat ran down the side of his face. Mr. Sadler stood at the far wall behind him, facing a computer screen.

“Fa… Father…” I coughed.

His eyes shot open and he stood up, bending over me. He looked genuinely worried, which was an expression I didn’t think I’d ever seen on his face before.

“Jordyn! Are you alright? I thought we might have lost you.”

I groaned, realising just how sore I was as more of my body came back online. It felt like I’d been in a fight, and lost badly. “What… What happened?”

He frowned, sitting back down. “You had a seizure. We’re… not entirely sure, but it seems like the Godling might have psychically attacked you. What do you remember?”

I thought back, trying to recall. Everything had become a little hazy. “I… I got out of bed to wash my hands, and then… looked in the mirror, I think? I don’t know…”

Father sighed, rubbing his face. He mumbled something under his breath, but all I could make out was “turn the camera off for ten goddamn minutes…”

“What does… psychically attacked mean?” I asked, my voice croaking weakly.

“You remember what I told you about the Godling? That Its presence is what causes monsters to form so frequently here? Well, it’s not too uncommon for It to deliberately target Its influence at some of the city’s inhabitants, as well. It entertains Itself by peering at their memories and showing them visions of things they desire, often causing great damage to whoever was unlucky enough to be Its target. You’re lucky that we keep an eye on your vitals, or we might not have noticed anything was wrong until it was too late.”

“Speaking of which,” Mr. Sadler chimed in, “Your readings are looking normal now that you’ve stabilised, so there shouldn’t be any permanent damage to worry about. You should still take it easy for a day or two, though.”

Father frowned again. He turned to Mr. Sadler. “It won’t be good for our numbers if she disappears so soon after her deployment. What limits are we talking about here?”

Mr. Sadler looked uneasy. “I… I guess it would be fine if she went out, but she’ll probably be a little unsteady. It might affect her performance if anything big happens.”

Father thought about it. He nodded. “That’s acceptable.”

I zoned out as Father and Mr. Sadler continued their discussion, staring at the ceiling. The memories of what I’d seen standing in front of the mirror were already fading, but the question that had sprung up in my mind still sat right where I’d left it, eating at my thoughts like a parasite.

“Who am I?” I muttered to no one in particular.

Father and Mr. Sadler shared a look. Father leaned closer to me.

“You are Jordyn de Vygon. You are my daughter, and a superhero. That is all you need to worry about.”

The assurance was like a soothing balm on my soul. I was Father’s daughter, and a superhero, and I didn’t need to worry or think about anything else. I closed my eyes and relaxed, a smile spreading across my face.

The question was still there, of course. It hadn’t gone away; I still didn’t know a thing about my past, and my curiosity hadn’t been entirely silenced. But… It was just so easy to forget about all of that when Father reminded me of what was important. Maybe it was just a weird dream after all? If the Godling had been taking an interest in me, then perhaps that was all it was. Why look deeper when an answer sat right in front of me?

Because it’s not the truth.

Taglist: @steelandblood @sapphicwhump @urnumber1star @alsolucakairomi @idkwhattodowiththisaltiamsorry @iamheretohurt @anoyedartist

Jordyn is so real for fingerblasting herself into oblivion and then immediately having an existential crisis in front of the mirror. She's so me.

anyway not gonna lie i did not expect the last part, it kinda came out of nowhere but i'm happy it happened tbh.

will probably take a bit of a break before the next chapter. I wanted to finish all of these chapters taking place roughly at the same time quickly, but i've been neglecting my book a bit so i wanna work on that for a while. probably won't be longer than a few weeks.

thanks for reading! lemme know what you thought and if you wanna be added/removed from the taglist! byeeee!

#project genesis whump series #whump series #whump #whumpblr #living weapon whump #whump writing #cw nsft #cw smut

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yacinthemorning · 1 year ago

Text

A Secret Third Thing

Summary: A conversation with Cleo and Scott causes Tango to ponder the nature of relationships and what Jimmy is to him. In a very Tango manner, of course.

Ships: Jimmy/Tango (Undefined relationship)

Warnings: Anxiety

“I’m pretty sure your husband’s about to do something stupid.”

Tango blinked, like the cogs in his brain suddenly jammed. It took several long seconds for it to restart, during which Cleo lifted an eyebrow at the stupefied blazeborn. She pointed over his shoulder towards the fields where Scott was already looking. Of course, he felt the arrow stab into not-his-shoulder before he processed the sight of Jimmy fighting off two mobs, trying to lead them away from the cow who grazed obliviously next to them. He stumbled, and the creeper began to charge. Luckily, before it could go off he smacked it into one of the many shallow ravines, and the ranchers only took a small bit of damage from the explosion.

Tango’s tail curled anxiously, but he knew Jimmy wasn’t helpless. He would be able to take care of the skeleton long before Tango made it to him. Instead he juggled the logs in his arms in order to pull out a steak to help his soulmate from afar. “I- I think he’s good for now.” He said with a nervous laugh, gaze returning to his trading partners. He quirked a grin that he hoped wasn’t too awkward. “But I thought you guys were over that?”

A confused frown accompanied the second stack of logs from the pair. “What?” Scott asked.

“Your, uh, what was it?” He tilted his head, feigning poor memory to cover his nerves. “The whole flower husbands thingy, didn’t you- like, uh… Maybe divorce isn’t the right word…”

“It’s fine? We did.”

“I was talking to you, Tango.” Cleo clarified, brows knit.

Tango’s brain rebooted a second time with a strangled noise escaping him and a spasm vibrating through his tail. He felt his face light up. “What- M- No! Nonono, he’s not my husband!” His pitch was all over the place, crackling with the flames in his hair. “We’re not- We’re ranchin’ buddies, we don’t got that sort of schtick going…”

“Riiight.” Cleo rested a hand on her hip. Skeptical. Her gaze was far too skeptical.

“Right!” He nodded anyway. He wanted to hide behind the logs in his arms, but he was pretty sure they would light on fire if he did. Tango couldn’t return home empty handed just to explain that he burnt the logs they were using to replace the ones burnt by Scar. “That’s, uh, right.”

Scott sighed. “You know, I don’t care, right? I only bully you guys cause it’s fun, I don’t have anything against your relationship.”

“Never thought so!” Tango squeaked, taking a few steps back. How could he get out of this conversation without looking like he was running away? “We just, you know, aren’t… like… that . We’re… We’re ranchers!”

Both soulmates-by-choice exchange a glance before shrugging. “Uh-huh. Well, good luck with that, then.” Scott muttered.

“Yep! Thanks for the wood!” And then Tango bolted. He didn’t stop his full-speed sprint until he was well over the bridge and into the open fields. He peaked over his shoulder, as if he could expect Scott or Cleo to chase him down.

He took a deep sigh of fresh midnight air. It was silly, what was there to be worried about? He traded leather for the wood fair and square. Any extra was a pity gift on their part. They were friends, for the time being at least. Everything was fine, all fine.

With assurance he started his walk back to the ranch.

He got two steps before the sight of the stone walls melted it all away.

Jimmy was visible over it, still wrangling stray cows back into their pen within the burnt ranch house. There must have been a kerfuffle, because the back of his pants were coated in mud and ash. One of the cows had latched onto the wheat stalks in his hand while he was distracted, and they now played tug-of-war with them.

Any other day it might have been a warming sight, something to chuckle over. He would walk over and force him to stop, partly out of concern and partly because it was cold which meant time for cuddles. Now, though, Tango could feel his muscles tense while his conversation with Scott and Cleo replayed in his mind.

I don’t have anything against your relationship.

Those words brought on a lot of emotions, but Tango wasn’t sure he even knew what they were. Just… a lump in his chest. Most certainly he didn’t know how to feel about what Scott and Cleo seemed to think was going on. It’s not like they’ve ever done anything, especially not in front of other players. Was there something else about how they acted that gave off that impression?

“Well, if that’s how we act, nobody gave me the memo.” He chuckled to himself as he forced another step, but it died pretty quickly. Actually, the more he thought about it, the more it sounded exactly like the sort of ridiculous situation he would get himself into somehow.

Bugs filled his chest. He clutched at the front of his shirt as he took another peek towards the ranch. Jimmy had finally gotten the cows into their pen and was now trying to salvage some of the wood that was left from the looks of it.

Did Jimmy think they were… That? Had he been showing signs and Tango managed to stumble right past them like a fool? Accidentally leading him on? If he did then Tango didn’t quite know what to do. He would hate to break the canary’s heart. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to. Did he? The more he thought about it the more confused he felt. He liked the guy, liked being around him and seeing him smile and working with him to steal horses and acquire horns. That was about as far as he could sparse for certain. Was that… husband things to like?

He liked similar things about his other friends too, though… Was he actually being weird around everyone and nobody had ever told him? He shook his head, he had more than enough blunt friends for that to not be the case. But then why…

Well, he liked whatever they had now, he was pretty sure. Maybe he should just ask Jimmy what that was and roll with it?

But his feet wouldn’t move closer to the ranch. Maybe he should take a short stroll around the server and clear his head. “Yeah… A nice long short stroll.” He muttered as he spun around back towards the border.

So, he walked. And walked. The box loomed ominously in the dark. He walked a little faster. It was nice, but it wasn’t helping like he hoped it would.

In the distance he spotted something bright, even in the night. It wasn’t a torch or lantern, but the home soaked up every sliver of moonlight offered to it. His tail perked up at the sight of a familiar face tending to the garden outside it. Impulse looked up at the sound of footsteps, relaxing quickly into a smile when he realized it was just Tango. “Hey there, buddy.” He greeted.

“Hey, how ya doin’?” Tango asked back, offering his friend a helping hand onto his feet.

Impulse dusted his knees off. “Just some late-night gardening, what are you up to? Collecting gunpowder?”

“Something like that. Thinking, making plans.” He smirked, wiggling his fingers ominously. It got a laugh.

The front door suddenly burst open, a sword swinging out. “Ha, you think you can sneak up on us! I got ya, youuu- oh. Hi Tango.” Bdubs stumbled out completely, lowering his sword. “I thought you was those younguns who keep stealing from us. Where’s Jimmy?”

“Just little ol’ me this time.” Tango shook his head. Impulse left his side to join Bdubs instead, arm wrapping around the shorter’s shoulder. With the backdrop of the mid-modern century home the two looked like one of those too-happy families in an old advertisement. Well, if the family just got back from a brawl they sorely lost. “He’s back at the ranch cleaning up. I’m just going around collecting resources for us.”

“Oh.” Bdubs put a hand to his chest, pulling his best sad face. “So you haven’t been keeping an eye on him?”

“Nah, goes faster if we split the work. And we got him a pretty good sword the other day so he can protect himself.” Tango shrugged. “Speaking of, you got any spare iron? I’m gonna need it for some… very special plans.”

“Oh, oh sure! Yeah, we got a little. Anything for our favourite redstone buddy. Right Impulse?” Bdubs looked to his soulmate, who gave him a confused look before he nodded.

“Right! Yeah, I’ll go get it right now! Sit tight.”

With that Impulse went back into the house. Tango raised an eyebrow as he popped out of the window to share a thumbs up with Bdubs, but the bleach-blond quickly turned back to him with a serious face. “So, Tango…”

“Yeah?”

Bdubs paused, then shook his head as if he were steeling himself. “You know, I was out earlier by the ranch and… Oh, I’m not really sure I should say…”

“Bdubs? Keeping a secret? Sacrilege!” Tango laughed. It quickly died as Bdubs approached, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“That soulmate of yours, you should really watch your back around him.” He warned. “I’m telling you this as a friend, Tango. That guy… You can’t trust him.”

Tango tilted his head in skepticism. “Oh really? What he do?”

Impulse came back out at that moment, a handful of iron ingots in his arms. Bdubs glanced back at him, gaping dramatically. “Oh, well, you know… It would just be too heartbreaking to even say! All sorts of things! Listen, Tango.” He grabbed Tango’s other shoulder. Impulse was clearly trying not to laugh. “Tango, you’ve been our friend for a long time, and we care about you! If you ever feel unsafe, you got a place here. You got that? Just say the word!”

The hands were slowly removed, Tango backing away to go get his iron. “I thhhink I’m good, but thanks.” He grinned. “I’m pretty sure I can trust Jimmy.”

Bdubs stared hard into his eyes, before his face fell completely. “This ain’t working one bit, is it?”

“Nah.”

“Dang it!” He kicked at the earth while Impulse and Tango chuckled. “I shoulda had Impulse say it, it’s cause it’s me ain’t it? Impulse woulda got ya!”

Tango folded his arms. “Nuh-uh! No way would I not trust my rancher!”

“When did you two get to be such good friends?” Impulse joked.

“Oh pshhh.” Bdubs rolled his eyes, walking over to Tango’s side to elbow him. “These two been pallin’ around the server like best buddies since they met up! They’re almost as good a pair as us. Why I even bother trying?”

Tango’s giggles died out, his gaze shifting to the unfinished garden. There it was again, that buggy feeling. “Well, you know. Jimmy’s a great guy…”

“I don’t know about that, but he certainly seems to try hard for you guys. Hey, remind him he still owes me one for that bucket, by the way!”

“Yeah sure, uh… Actually…” He paused, glancing between his two old friends. Was it a good idea to drag them in on something weird like this? But he needed to get out of his own head. “Actually, you’ve um. Seen us plenty so far, right? Me and Jimmy.”

Two separate looks of confusion. Okay, so it was a strange question! He waited patiently for their answers, though. They both eventually just nodded, giving each other another side glance.

“Great! Great. Well, uh, weird questions, I know. When you see us, what do you, uh, let’s say generally think of us? Like, our relationship.”

Bdubs tilted his head. “I would say it’s a pretty good one? You certainly seem close.”

“You look like a couple of ranchers to me.” Impulse agreed.

“What sort of question’s that, anyways? Don’t tell me there really is trouble in paradise.”

Tango tried to wave it off, backing away. “Ah, nah, just a stray thought, y’know? Curiosity. Sorry, to bother you. Thanks for the iron!”

They continued to give him odd looks but when he didn’t stop backing away they shrugged and waved him off. He bolted back towards the ranch before they could think too hard about it all. What was he thinking? Now they probably thought their little lie secretly worked or something. He hoped that’s what they thought, rather than whatever weird ideas Scott and Cleo had gotten.

He didn’t slow until he could see the ranch walls once again. Jimmy was outside, laying on his stomach in the grass – their bed and blankets lost to the fire - with his head tilted towards the gate. He looked somewhere between bored and falling asleep. He must have finished the chores he could do without the supplies Tango was supposed to bring. The blazeborn hissed at himself, he should have been back a long time ago.

But he still hesitated. The bugs were back, twisting his stomach. Asking Bdubs and Impulse did him no good in clearing his head. If anything, they only added to it. How was he supposed to sparse through everyone else’s biases to figure out that truth? Not like there was a factual truth to begin with…

… He was just driving himself in circles. His soulmate was right there, he could just ask him.

There were no excuses to stay away, anyways.

With his tail wrapped tightly around his leg he took a deep breath and marched back down to the ranch.

Jimmy heard him approach before he opened the gate, his wings perking up first before he pushed himself up into sitting cross-legged. Tango felt his heart almost melt at the sleepy smile sent his way. It dispersed his muddled thoughts long enough to collapse down into his soulmate’s open arms. He slipped his arm around Jimmy’s waist, twisting to get comfortable in the canary’s grip, who didn’t bother to give him much time to do so before he already had his face buried in Tango’s hair. Given how the same locks were aflame in rage the night prior he was honestly surprised how quick Jimmy was to trust Tango wouldn’t burn him.

Tango chuckled. “Cold?”

“Mn-mm.” Jimmy weakly shook his head. “But you are comfy.” He sounded almost asleep.

“Hey! I’m not a pillow!”

“Dunno, you feel like one…”

The arms around his shoulders tightened their grip for emphasis. Tango let out an amused huff. Looks like he was stuck there.

A dozy sort of silence fell over the ranch while the first shades of dawn began to creep over the horizon. With nothing but his thoughts, though, Tango felt the mysterious bugs begin to return. Should he ask Jimmy now? What would he even ask, though? Maybe he should let him nap-

“You’re thinking very loudly.” Jimmy grumbled.

“Wh-“ He blinked. “Oh.”

“What’s all the hubbub about?”

Tango shrugged, trying to stall for time. “Just had an odd thought I can’t get out of my head.” How on earth was he supposed to word the question on his mind without sounding leading? Or without concerning the avian?

He could feel the frown against the top of his head. They pulled apart just enough for them to be able to look at one another. “Are you getting second thoughts about the revenge plan? Cause I can come help dig, or we can come up with something else-”

“No, no, it’s all fine, that’s not it.” Tango waved him off, but grinned. “I appreciate the thought, though, thank you. And thanks for rebuilding the house.”

Jimmy beamed. There really wasn’t a better word for it, and it had quickly become one of Tango’s favourite things. The way he held his lips tight to keep from outright grinning like a doofus despite how wide his smile stretched, while his cheeks and eyes lit up. How his wings flexed only to settle with golden feathers fluffed up almost proudly. Even his back seemed to straighten a little despite trying to keep his hold around the blazeborn’s neck, inadvertently yanking Tango towards him.

It was far more adorable than the whining and huffing – and, once everyone was gone, fits of giggles – that escaped the avian whenever someone pulled a prank on him. If Tango could he’d make a sport out of complimenting Jimmy. His tail curled up in delight. So busy basking in the precious reaction, he nearly forgot what they were talking about until Jimmy piped up again.

“So, then, what was it?”

Right. What was it again? Did that mean anything to it? Were only husbands allowed to love that sort of thing about someone? That didn’t sound right, but Tango wasn’t the smartest in these matters, as evident by his predicament.

The beam ebbed away into concern once again. “Tango?”

“What are we?” He blurted out, then immediately covered his mouth with a squeaky ‘ meep !’

Well, there went the proverbial bandage, he supposed…

Tango could visibly see Jimmy’s mind trying to process the question, from stupefied confusion to regular confusion to some sort of short circuiting that prevented his brain’s automatic response to… Tomato. “W-what?” His voice came out horse.

There wasn’t any taking it back now. So, equally red-faced, Tango pushed a little bit more room between the two – easy, now that Jimmy seemed to turn to gelatine from shock – and repeated. “What… Are we? I mean, what do you think we are? Or, er, want us to be, I guess? Maybe.” His throat suddenly felt very dry.

“Um, sssoulmates?” Jimmy leaned to the side, like he was trying to test for the right response.

Tango could feel nervous sparks licking his hair. He tried to smooth them down, looking away in the process. “I mean, yeah, but like, Bdubs and Impulse are soulmates and they’re all married and stuff, but Scott and Cleo are soulmates and are BFFs. A-and Pearl-”

“Are you…” Jimmy paused. At some point he’d pulled his wings in tense around his shoulders, his hands completely leaving Tango in favour of rubbing nervously against his forearms. “Are you asking if I want to get married?”

“Well, I- do you? Cause I don’t… Know?” Tango felt like he was floundering, arms flailing out attempting to gesture an abstract point.

“I mean I guess that’s much more considerate to at least ask first-”

“No, I mean…!” A deep sigh escaped, followed by several slow breaths. It looked like he was just breathing embers as some weird distraction. Why couldn’t the soulbond just transfer his thoughts into his soulmate’s brain so he didn’t have to get it together? They were a type of pain, weren’t they? At this rate he might die from the humiliation. “What I meant to say- ask. What I meant to ask is… What. Are we. Like, cause I like what we are, so do you… know what we are?”

Yeah. Yeah, he was gonna lose their life to embarrassment. That sounded about right for the two of them. Or he was gonna burn Jimmy alive, because his tail was awfully close to his wings and the flames were certainly not shrinking .

Jimmy shifted, at first away but then scooching up next to Tango with his knees pulled to his chest. One wing wrapped around his exposed side over his legs, the other awkwardly encompassing Tango into the little safety cocoon. It tugged guiltily on Tango’s heart and he wanted to apologize, or perhaps thank him for bringing him in as well even though it was Tango’s fault he felt so frazzled.

He absently pulled at the loose threads worn into the knees of his jeans. “I… I like us, too. But…” It wasn’t physically possible for the avian’s face to be as red as Tango’s, but it was trying its hardest. His lip quivered for a moment before his hands full on slapped over his face. He let out a strangled little noise. “I… I don’t know, either? I never thought about it? We’re…”

There was an odd shudder through his wings. Like a flipped switch he pulled both his hands and wings away, now sporting a determined look only slightly hampered by the remaining blush. He dug through his inventory and pulled out their horn. Both hands held tightly onto it as he presented it towards Tango who instinctively mimicked the movement, ready to respond if the other was blown. Jimmy seemed to falter for a second but shook it away. “We’re ranchers! Obviously!”

Tango blinked owlishly at the other man. A grin broke across his face, and he held up the horn. “Yeah, ranchers! Of course, duh!”

“Yep. We’re ranchers.” Jimmy nodded in satisfaction. It was like those words shooed all the bugs away, pulled the tension out of every nerve. Both ranchers relaxed, melting back together with embarrassed but honest smiles.

Tango chuckled as Jimmy remembered to actually blow his horn, responding instantly. The sun finally deigned to peak over the hills in front of them. One of Jimmy’s arms found its way back around Tango’s shoulder. “My rancher.”

“My rancher.” Tango repeated, tail wrapped around Jimmy’s waist. A warmth spread through his chest. That one was probably about right.

#jimmy solidarity #tangotek #team rancher #rancher duo #trafficshipping #traffic series #double life smp #mcyt #fanfic #fanfiction #fluff #hurt/comfort #sharing a cupcake

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stardroptasteslikesocialism · 11 months ago

Text

Say it Ain't So part 2

Part One here

Gator tries to make things right and keep you safe.

Content: manchild!gator tillman x teacher!reader, canon appropriate violence, one use of a slur, pregnancy, guns, angst with a little fluff sprinkled in.

Gator stayed awake until sunrise.

Of course, being tasked with sticking a corpse in a truck and then running said truck into a ditch by himself took most of the night.

As he stood by the elementary school crosswalk, eyes bloodshot, the lids heavy with exhaustion, he felt his heart skip a beat when he noticed you weren't in your usual spot by the front door. His mind immediately assumed the worst.

He got you, too.

Before the panic settled in, Gator grabbed his phone from his back pocket.

Hey, you ok?

He heaved a sigh of relief when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.

Took a sick day. Spent the morning hurling.

A pang of guilt racked his chest as he wrapped up drop-off duty. As if on auto-pilot, the squad car made its way to a small, modest yellow house littered with burnt orange and red leaves. Gator attempted to steel his nerves before giving your door his usual quick, loud knock. He sucked in a breath when he heard your deadbolts and locks clicking.

When the door crept open, Gator held back a wince. You stood before him, eyes just as bloodshot, and your skin an alarming pallor. He'd never seen you so - disheveled; your college hoodie hung limply off your shoulders, unzipped to reveal a plain white tank top, and sweatpants sat loose around your hips.

He also couldn't help noticing your boobs were definitely bigger, but he had to quickly suppress those thoughts.

"God, you look like hell," Gator quietly muttered as he took in the full sight of you.

"Gee, thanks," you deadpanned with an eye roll, "y'know, you're not looking so hot either, Tillman."

"No! Shit, sorry. That came out wrong," he quickly backtracked, pinching the bridge of his nose, "I meant, like, are you okay? Now? To talk?"

"Oh, now you wanna talk?" you quipped, leaning against your doorframe.

"Yeah, now I wanna-" Gator cut himself off and took a quick breath, "Look, I'm sorry I left when I did."

"You shouldn't have left at all," you snapped, arms crossing your chest.

"Jesus, I-" Gator paused, "I don't wanna turn this into a fight, alright? It's just one of my guys is dead, now. Had to tell his fiancee this morning that he wasn't comin' home. Scared the shit outta me, because that could've been me, but by some stroke of luck, it wasn't."

Your eyes welled up with tears as they glanced up at Gator's.

"My job isn't just watching ankle-biters cross the street every day, y'know? I deal with dangerous shit. A lot of it. And I guess - I guess I'm just scared."

Gator looked up at the overcast sky; a vain attempt to keep tears from falling. He could hear Roy's voice bellowing in his head.

Quit that crying. Crying's for girls and queers. I won't have a crybaby son.

"I'm scared I won't be good enough. I don't know what you see in me, but I know all Roy sees when he looks at me is a failure."

"Stop," You quietly silenced him with your steps on your front porch, "Stop doing that to yourself."

Gator looked down at you confused.

"You always hold yourself to standards your father set. What Roy wants you to do; how Roy wants you to act. You are a grown man still fighting for your dad to be proud of you. But you know what I think? I think nothing's ever going to please Roy Tillman. You could do everything he asks of you, and it still wouldn't be good enough. Because Roy doesn't care about you. He only cares about himself."

You cupped Gator's jaw with your hand, "He doesn't see what I do. I see a man who cares so much about the people around him. I see someone who has spent years raised by a man who wanted power so badly, he put his son through hell to get it. Someone who's seen unspeakable things that no child should have to. And despite that, I see someone who wants to do the right thing. He just doesn't know what that is yet."

Gator stood overwhelmed by the outpouring of emotions in his head. The only thing he could think to do was wrap his arms around your waist and pull you in.

"The fact that you're so worried about being a good father already makes you one," you said, leaning into his chest, "I'm not saying it'll be easy, or fun all the time. But I've always had faith in you. This is our chance to finally break the Tillman cycle. You'll have me every step of the way."

The two of you stood there in silence; you, soaking in the warmth of Gator's arms around you. Gator let your words of encouragement soak in.

"Did you sleep at all last night?" You finally asked, looking into Gator's exhausted gaze. He swallowed and shook his head.

"Me neither," you admitted. You quietly took Gator's hand and guided him inside, "I think we both need a nap. This kid already has me up all night."

For the first time in over 24 hours, Gator cracked a smile.

"Hey, don't blame Gator Junior. He doesn't know any better!"

That caused a snort and eye roll to escape you.

"First of all, we don't know if they're a boy. And second, you have lost your mind if you think we're calling the baby Gator Junior."

"Aw, but it sounds awesome," Gator wined, "And trust me, giving you this much grief already is classic Tillman boy behavior. Just get ready to replace some windows. If he's anything like his old man, there'll be a lot of footballs through 'em."

"Oh, shut up and go take a shower," you scoffed, shooing him upstairs, "I can smell you from here."

"Aw, don't wanna join?" Gator teased as he pulled his shirt over his head.

You turned a light shade of green at the thought, "Not unless you want me to get sick again."

Gator shrugged, "Suit yourself."

A squeal escaped your lips when he tossed his sweat-and-dirt-soaked shirt at you, "God, you're awful!"

Gator laughed before pausing for a brief second.

"Could you help me with this-" he asked, awkwardly holding his cast up,

"Yes, I'll help cover your cast," you quickly replied.

#gator tillman #fargo fx #fargo s5 #joe keery #gator x reader

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kallie-den · 11 months ago

Text

A Commanding Weakness Ch. 4

Peggy Morgan, the Inyx's dorky science officer, starts confusing fact and fiction when other crew members mysteriously offer to cosplay with her and reenact some of the lewdest scenes from her favorite anime

If you like my writing, please consider supporting me on Patreon! For less than the price of a cup of coffee each month, you can get immediate, early access to everything I write - along with exclusive stories and the ability to vote on what I write next. Your support helps me keep writing and is greatly appreciated <3

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Peggy Morgan, the Inyx’s science officer, made sure to offer a proper salute to Captain Vasser as she finished up her duty shift on the bridge and headed into the turbolift that would take her back down to her quarters, in the bowels of the ship. As soon as the doors slid closed with their distinctive hiss, though, she slumped against the wall.

Another awful day.

It just wasn’t getting any easier. Peggy had always hoped that, somehow, once she made it to a senior enough post, she’d be able to fit in. No such luck. Instead, it felt like other members of the crew were constantly laughing at her behind her back, be it because of the way she looked, or the way she talked, or her tendency to get lost in daydreaming and fantasy when during an uneventful shift.

Yes, Peggy was a huge nerd. She understood perfectly well that she was a complete stereotype of a science officer. Peggy was pale and freckled, with long, red hair and huge, round glasses. She couldn’t handle contact lenses or laser correction, and a nervous habit meant that she often stuttered or lisped when she spoke. Thanks to that she usually kept quiet - but when she found her voice, she sometimes got carried away with her scientific explanations.

It wasn’t her fault that the finer points of subquantum physics were so fascinating! Really, other Alliance officers should try to educate themselves. Instead, when Captain Vasser cut her off, they just giggled behind their hands. And why did the captain have to be so short with her anyway? She was an officer! A young one, yes, but she still deserved respect.

Peggy sighed. Hopefully, once they were through with this mission, she could get herself transferred to a ship that suited her better. Until then, there was no use dwelling on it. All she could do was go back to her quarters after every shift and try to take her mind off it all by indulging in her favorite hobby.

Anime.

Yes, being obsessed with twenty-first-century media was often considered cringe. No, it didn’t help with her image as a complete and total dork. But Peggy didn’t care. Anime was her life. There was nothing better than curling up in her bunk with her body pillow and waifu plushes to burn through a few seasons of classic animation.

It was such a shame that Peggy didn’t have anyone to share her passion with. Unfortunately, to most people, anime was just some boring, old-fashioned, dead medium, no different from opera and ballet. Apparently, your average Alliance starship officer didn’t have much interest in classical culture. Oh, Peggy had tried to spread the good word. But just like everything else, it had mostly gotten her ignored and quietly made fun of.

Fine. Whatever. All Peggy needed to do to escape their scorn was make it back to her quarters without running into anyone unpleasant. Then she’d have the evening all to herself.

But it was never that easy. Peggy cursed her luck when she rounded a bulkhead and found herself staring at the Inyx’s chief of security, Samira Carter.

Great.

Chief Carter was one of the worst. Peggy had spent her entire education looking forward to the day she no longer had to deal with abrasive, small-minded, meat-headed jocks. But as it turned out, they had a way of following you wherever you went. Peggy and Chief Carter were never going to be friends. Chief Carter had that loud, swaggering confidence that just grated uncomfortably on Peggy’s nerves. She treated the whole ship, and everything in it like it was her own personal playground - especially the women. It was infuriating that, just because she had a few muscles, she assumed she could have any girl she wanted. It was even more infuriating that she seemed to be right.

Peggy would have disliked Carter even if she’d left the science officer completely alone. She was everything Peggy had learned to resent and avoid. But in typical fashion, she was also the ringleader of all the mockery Peggy had received. She had been the first to make cutting comments about Peggy’s love of anime, and she was always the one who laughed the loudest whenever she tripped over her words or got shut down by Captain Vasser. And since she was such a big presence wherever she went, the rest of the crew had ended up taking their cues from her.

Peggy had tried to give Chief Carter the benefit of the doubt. It wasn’t like the security chief was singling her out in particular. She treated almost everyone this way. Probably, it was her version of being friendly. ‘Harmless banter’, she’d call it. It wasn’t her fault that Peggy was so bad at sticking up for herself, and so easy to make fun of. But at the end of the day, that didn’t matter. She was making Peggy’s life miserable, and Peggy couldn’t forgive her for it.

So, as they walked towards each other, Peggy just fixed her eyes on the floor and silently prayed that Chief Carter didn’t take any notice of her. She couldn’t take one more mean comment. Not today. Hopefully, she was busy. Hopefully, she had something else on her mind. Hopefully, she was-

“Hey, Morgan. How’s it going?”

Her deep, cocksure, sultry voice was like nails on a chalkboard to the science officer. She kept her head down and quickened her pace, hoping against hope that Chief Carter would just let it go.

No such luck.

“Woah! What’s the hurry?”

Peggy felt herself thrown suddenly off balance as something slammed into her shoulder and spun her around. Immediately disoriented, she braced herself to hit the floor before she realized that, instead, something was bearing down on her and keeping her pressed firmly against the nearest bulkhead.

It was Chief Carter. The security chief had slammed her against the wall.

Immediately, Peggy was flinching and panicking. Physical abuse? She hadn’t imagined even Carter would sink quite that low. It was a major escalation. What was Peggy going to do? She could take it to the captain, yes, but that was slim consolation while she was getting her face pounded in by a brute of a security chief. Peggy started bringing her hands up to fend off the blows, shaking furiously.

“Hey,” Chief Carter said, in her very lowest, smokiest, most seductive voice. “Why such a hurry, cute thing? Surely whatever you’re doing tonight can’t be better than spending time with me.”

Peggy barked an awkward, disbelieving laugh. It took her a long moment to process, with disgust, that Chief Carter didn’t want to beat her.

She wanted to screw her.

Scarcely a more appealing proposition.

“G-g-g-get off m-me!” Peggy spluttered. Chief Carter just laughed good-naturedly.

“No need to be afraid, Morgan,” she cooed. “I don’t bite… much.”

Peggy felt like she was going to hurl. This was completely ludicrous.

“L-let me go!” Peggy doubled her efforts to squirm free. “Or I’ll… I’ll…”

To her surprise, Chief Carter actually eased up on her a little - although not enough for her to escape.

“C’mon. Is the prospect of spending an evening hanging out with me really that bad?” Chief Carter’s voice gave Peggy pause. She sounded surprisingly sincere.

“S-save it,” Peggy replied wearily. “You’re just making fun of me anyway.”

“Huh?” Now Chief Carter seemed all but wounded. “No, not at all. Why would you think that?”

“B-because it’s what you always do!” Peggy exploded. “I’m used to it by now, OK? You’re not gonna fool me that easily.”

“Morgan…” Chief Carter’s eyes turned big and deep and sorrowful. She reached down to gently caress Peggy’s cheek with the back of her hand. “I’m so sorry that you were hurting. I never knew. Won’t you let me make it up to you?”

Peggy was almost taken in. She let out a momentary gasp and lost herself briefly in Chief Carter’s eyes, before reality once again reasserted herself. Chief Carter’s charm was formidable, yes. It wasn’t difficult to see how so many girls had been taken in by it. She’d say anything to get a girl into bed. But no matter how charming, she just wasn’t Peggy’s type. Peggy was into girls who were gentle and sweet. Girls she could share her interests with. Not brawny jocks.

“L-look!” Peggy cried as she tried to push Carter away. “I… I’m honestly not sure if you’re joking or not, but I’m really not into you, OK? So, uh… thanks, but no thanks.”

Chief Carter’s whole face fell. She pulled back and withdrew her arm. “You won’t even give me a chance, huh?”

“I-it’s just… a little hard to believe.” Peggy was taking deep breaths to calm herself. She’d never been so eager to get back to her quarters. “I mean… why would you even be interested in me?”

“Maybe I just think you’re cute.” Chief Carter shrugged. She still sounded dead serious. “Look at it this way: we’re a long way from home out here on the Inyx. It’s only natural to take a certain interest in each other. I… really want to learn more about you, Morgan.”

“Oh.” Peggy turned frosty and started turning away. “I see how it is. Y-you’re just bored and looking for another notch on your bedpost, aren’t you?”

She took a few steps away, but Chief Carter’s powerful hand on her shoulder stopped her.

“No, wait!” The huge security chief sounded so ardent and desperate, it made Peggy freeze in her tracks. “Please let me explain!”

At that moment, it dawned on Peggy that this was real. Chief Carter wasn’t playing some kind of trick on her. Nobody was waiting around the corner to burst out and laugh. Somehow, for some reason, Chief Carter genuinely wanted to woo her.

It was a strange realization. It made Peggy grow warm with an unfamiliar, satisfying emotion. It made her feel powerful. She still didn’t reciprocate Carter’s feelings, of course. But she decided to hear her out. If nothing else, maybe a proper, firm rejection would teach her a little humility.

“Fine,” Peggy said firmly, turning back and folding her arms. “But tell me what’s going on. And be quick about it. I have places to be.”

She didn’t, really. Going back to her quarters to watch anime by herself didn’t count. But it sounded good.

“OK, OK.” To Peggy’s surprise, Chief Carter’s face turned a deep red color and she looked around furtively. “I just… I think you’re really cool. Seriously. And I actually think we might have a lot more in common than you realize. Maybe. With certain, uh, interests.”

Peggy frowned. “What are you talking about?”

Chief Carter glanced around again before saying, in a hushed voice: “You like anime, right?”

“H-huh?” Peggy’s heart skipped a beat. “Um, yeah?”

The security chief checked yet again to make sure nobody else was around before she blurted out: “I’m a huge MaMeStaSe fangirl!”

Peggy froze. She stopped breathing. Of all the strange things she’d heard in the past five minutes, this was by far the most unbelievable.

‘MaMeStaSe’ was the preferred fan abbreviation for ‘Magical Maidens Star Sentinels’, a magical girl anime and Peggy’s absolute favorite show of all time. It was a cult classic, and for Peggy, it had everything: incredible animation, brilliant characters, heartwarming themes, and titillating action. She’d rewatched it so many times she’d lost count, she’d plastered posters of it all over her walls, and she even had a body pillow of one of the protagonists. Meeting another fan aboard the Inyx was a dream come true.

But it was a little difficult to believe.

“You are?” Peggy didn’t bother to hide her skepticism.

“Yes!” Chief Carter had a big grin on her face, like she couldn’t contain her excitement. “I swear!”

“Prove it,” Peggy told her flatly. “Do the pose.”

She was absolutely sure that Carter wouldn’t know what she was talking about, which made it all the more surprising when, without hesitation, Chief Carter performed an adorable little pirouette, struck an iconic pose, and, in a voice sparkling with hope and love, recited:

“In the name of the stars, I’ll punish you!”

It was perfect. She was a true fan.

Peggy started bouncing up and down with glee. She couldn’t help herself. She lunged forward and threw her hands around the security chief.

“Ohmigod!” she squealed. “It’s so good, right? It’s soooo good. I mean, the opening? The transformations? Hey, what’s your favorite arc? Have you read the manga? I like it too, don’t get me wrong, but to me, the anime is just so much more-“ Peggy cut herself off and blushed. “Oh no, I’m babbling.”

“No, no, don’t apologize!” Chief Carter exclaimed. She clasped Peggy’s hands and looked every bit as overcome with joy and excitement as Peggy felt. “I can’t wait to talk about everything. But, right now, I had something a little different in mind.”

“Oh?” She had Peggy’s full attention.

“Have you ever thought about recreating one of the episodes?” Chief Carter asked her.

“You mean, like, in the holodeck?” Peggy asked. She had; it was her favorite way to use her holorec time. She loved immersing herself in the fantasy, even if it wore off all too quickly once her time was up.

“No, better,” Chief Carter replied. “In real life!”

Peggy just tilted her head, confused.

“It turns out,” Chief Carter said, “Dr. Hiraga is a fan too! I only found out a little while ago, but she and I have been working on something down in medbay. Costumes, holographic assets - the works. But we need a third person. And you… well, nobody else knows Magical Maidens Star Sentinels the way you do.”

Peggy puffed up a little in pride upon hearing that.

“So, what do you say?” Chief Carter turned bashful again. “I’m… sorry for coming on so strong earlier. It doesn’t have to be, um, a d-date or anything. But I’d really love it if you’d come.”

Peggy couldn’t help but be endeared to this cuter, nerdier version of Chief Carter. Besides, hearing that Dr. Hiraga was an anime fan too was nothing short of breathtaking. Three magical girl fans on one ship? There was no way she could decline.

“Of course I’ll come!” she replied. “We need to save the stars with the power of friendship, right?”

Chief Carter pulled Peggy into a huge bear hug, one that almost lifted her off her feet. Then she took Peggy by the end and started leading her down towards medbay.

Inside medbay, everything was dim. The main ceiling lights had been switched off, and instead the room was illuminated from strange angles by an array of holographic projectors mounted all over the walls. Peggy knew medbay had some holotech to support the emergency medical hologram, but this seemed excessive. Someone had been making some major upgrades.

That was just a stray observation, though. Peggy was far too preoccupied to dwell on it. She was busy wondering what was going to happen next. They’d hurried to medbay so quickly, she hadn’t been able to ask any questions. What did recreating a magical girl anime in real life mean? And wasn’t something missing here?

“Where’s Dr. Hiraga?” Peggy asked quietly.

“Behind there.”

Chief Carter pointed to where a holographic privacy screen had been erected at the far end of the medbay. Peggy frowned.

“She’s… hiding? Why?”

“To help set the scene.”

Peggy’s frown deepened. “What does that mean, Carter?”

Infuriatingly, Chief Carter answered her question with a question. “Season Two. Episode thirty-seven. What happens?”

“Sentinel Green goes to try and save Sentinel Blue from the clutches of the evil Doctor Tomoe,” Peggy recited. “But the doctor makes Blue betray her, and both of them end up brainwashed. It’s one of my favorite episodes!”

For a fan of Peggy’s caliber, the question was trivial.

“Right!” Chief Carter said excitedly. “Isn’t this perfect? Medbay looks just like Doctor Tomoe’s evil lab!”

“It does,” Peggy admitted.

“We can do the whole scene!” Chief Carter exclaimed, overflowing with nerdy glee. “You can be Sentinel Green, I’ll be Sentinel Blue, and our very own ship’s doctor is perfect for the remaining role.”

“Oh, like roleplay!”

When Chief Carter nodded, Peggy was satisfied that she understood what was actually going on. It was still well outside of her comfort zone, though. Peggy adored roleplay. Losing herself in a shared fantasy was rewarding and intoxicating in a way nothing else could match. It was one of her favorite ways to pass time. But she’d never done it in person, only over text. It was easy to get swept away by Chief Carter’s enthusiasm, and by heady thoughts of fangirling together with her and Dr. Hiraga afterward.

“O-OK!” Peggy squeaked nervously. “Um… we all know the scene, right? How do we get started?”

Chief Carter’s dorky grin widened. “We get into costume.”

Peggy blinked, and then turned a deep red. “Y-you have costumes?”

Oh no. She hadn’t expected this. If they were wearing costumes, then this went a step beyond simple roleplay.

It was cosplay.

"U-um,” Peggy squeaked. “Maybe I should… uh… r-rewatch the episode first! And, um, I t-think I had a duty shift to cover later. And-“

“C’mon, Morgan.” Chief Carter gave her shoulder a comradely squeeze. “Don’t be like that. There’s no need to be shy! I’m sure you know the episode like the back of your hand. And everything’s ready right now. Trust me, your costume is perfect.”

Peggy’s blush deepened. She couldn’t bring herself to back out. Not when she was finally getting the chance to be a part of something. She couldn’t face going back to her quarters alone. She had to participate. There was just one problem.

Science Officer Peggy Morgan had a huge cosplay fetish.

She couldn’t explain it. Not really. But there was something special - no, magical - about cosplay. Seeing a character come to life through costume and performance felt like nothing short of a miracle. The holodeck never had the same appeal. Holograms were just light with a little pre-scripted AI running behind them. Cosplay was real. It was transformation. When Peggy saw a cosplayer truly become the character they were cosplaying, it made her feel like anything was possible - even for a mousy nerd like her.

That was her fascination. But, admittedly, her fetish went beyond that. Peggy couldn’t explain why cosplayers turned her on so much. Maybe it was their mannerisms, so fictive and exaggerated. It was almost mesmerizing, seeing a flesh-and-blood person follow a script intended for an animated character. Maybe it was their beauty, so stylized it was almost unreal. Maybe it was what they represented: characters that she was used to seeing as drawings or dolls come to life, but still presenting themselves to be looked at and played with and enjoyed. It just turned her on like nothing else.

And, of course, plenty of cosplays were far from innocent. Erotic cosplay frequently left Peggy drooling. Sometimes, when she was alone in her quarters, she would spend hours scrolling through massive archives of pictures until her own arousal and pleasure grew to be too much. But even regular cosplay excited her to an embarrassing degree. In the past, she’d excused herself from costume parties, just in case they got her a little too worked up.

But now she had to cosplay alongside Chief Carter and Dr. Hiraga.

All without giving herself away.

“Here’s yours.” Chief Carter, oblivious to Peggy’s inner turmoil, picked up a bundle of green clothes from a nearby table and handed it to her. “Try it on! Don’t worry, I pulled your uniform size from the databanks as I replicated it. It should be perfect. I’ve got mine too. Let me give you some privacy.”

Before Peggy could say anything, she headed off to a far corner of the room and activated another holographic privacy screen, hiding her and Peggy from one another. Now that she was, relatively speaking, alone, Peggy took a deep breath and looked down at the clothing in her hands.

It was immaculately designed. Replicators could make anything, of course, but making sure the stitching, fit, and design were all just right could be a labor of love, and Peggy could tell that no effort had been spared here. This was Sentinel Green’s magical outfit, right down to every last detail of the frills and ribbons. There was, at first glance, just one issue.

It was latex.

There was usually a level of interpretation when it came to deciding what materials to use for cosplay. Animation, after all, rarely made it clear precisely what was intended. But shiny, bright, smooth rubber was certainly quite the choice. Thinking about what this was going to look like on her made Peggy shiver with equal parts anxiety and anticipation.

She considered refusing, but this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. She had to. Which meant there was nothing for Peggy to do but try on the cosplay.

Peggy removed her Alliance uniform swiftly and efficiently. She was used to that part. Putting on a magical girl cosplay outfit was something else entirely. But once she experimentally slipped one of her feet into one of the white, embroidered, thigh-high socks, something came over her. It was like she was possessed by something; a feverish enthusiasm that had her limbs moving in a hurried frenzy and putting on the cosplay like it was second nature. Before she knew it, Peggy was wearing the whole thing.

She shivered. It felt amazing.

And it was so, so skimpy.

Once the initial rush wore off, Peggy was stunned by how much air she could feel on her bare skin. Admittedly, the outfits in Magical Maidens Star Sentinels were, according to some, pretty revealing. The term ‘fanservice’ was frequently bandied around. Peggy had always ardently insisted that it was unfair, and that the designs were perfectly tasteful as long as you looked at them in the right light.

She was now reconsidering that stance.

The blouse, while tailored to fit Peggy, was clearly intended to suit the slim proportions of an anime character; as a result, it left the layer of puppy fat on Peggy’s tummy embarrassingly prominent. The same was true for her thick thighs, on two counts: they muffin-topped over the thigh-highs, and threatened to make the pleated, too-short skirt ride up every time she moved. The fact it was all so brightly colored, so shiny and green, made it all the more lurid, and the way everything was styled, with frills and ruffles and sparkling gemstones, took the ensemble to another level.

Peggy had never been more embarrassed, and she had never been more turned on.

“Morgan?” Chief Carter called out, from behind the privacy screen. “Changed?”

“Y-yeah,” Peggy answered without thinking. Then: “W-wait, no, d-don’t come-“

It was too late. Carter flicked off the privacy screen, and the two of them saw each other. For a moment Peggy thought she was going to die from embarrassment - but then that thought, just like all her other thoughts, was obliterated as she lost herself in the sight of Chief Carter in her cosplay.

Her outfit was the same as Peggy’s except in blue instead of green, and yet somehow, it looked completely different. The similarity in design simply brought out the contrast in their physiques. In Chief Carter’s case, the tight-fitting, revealing magical girl outfit seemed to be struggling to contain her proud, sculpted muscles. The result was similar to what was going on with Peggy, where her clothes were threatening to ride up all over, but the effect was totally different. It accentuated the triangular shape of her torso and all the work she put into her abs.

God, her abs. Peggy had never really deigned to notice just how appealing muscular girls could be, but the latex outfit shed Carter’s physique in such a new light, she couldn’t help but stare. It conformed so tightly to her torso, each one of her abs had its own, shiny highlight from medbay’s dim lights. The effect was nothing short of pornographic, and Peggy was enraptured. The best part was how strange it all looked on her. The tall, swaggering security chief would never normally dress in something so bright and attention-grabbing. The way it transformed her was, to Peggy, both erotic and magical.

Chief Carter was Sentinel Blue.

It made Peggy wonder how she seemed. Had she been transformed too? It was such an exciting thought, and Chief Carter’s reaction confirmed it for her immediately.

“Oh my gosh!” she squealed uncharacteristically. “Morgan, I knew it! You’re perfect.”

Heat rose in Peggy’s body. She looked away. “R-really?” she asked bashfully.

“Hell yes!”

The sparkling enthusiasm in Chief Carter’s eyes left no room for doubt. Peggy was beyond euphoric. It was all she could do to keep herself from bouncing up and down. She was cosplaying as a character from her favorite show. It was a wet dream come true.

“But… um… why l-latex?” Peggy ventured. “It’s a little…”

“Oh, that was the doctor’s call,” Carter replied. “Doesn’t it look magical? The way it shines, it’s like it’s glowing!”

Peggy couldn’t disagree with that. She was utterly captivated, and her head was filling with unspeakable fantasies about all the things she suddenly wanted to do with Chief Carter. It was strange; dressed normally, she had no interest in the muscular woman. Dressed like this, she was a fantasy made flesh. She was irresistible.

“So,” Chief Carter said, striking a small pose. She was radiating joyful confidence. “Shall we get started?”

Peggy walked over to her, trembling with nervousness, trying to ignore the way her thighs rubbed together pleasurably with each step.

“S-sure,” Peggy struggled to say. She decided to try looking at the floor. That seemed safest. “So, um… w-what now?”

“Well, we’re all ready!” Chief Carter’s uncharacteristically innocent enthusiasm was an uncannily perfect match for her magical girl cosplay. Peggy tried not to think about that too much. “We all know how the story is supposed to go. So… places! You can start over by the door. And I’ll…”

Chief Carter clambered onto one of medbay’s many examination chairs, which immediately reclined to accept her. Without warning, restraints mounted within the bed snapped shut around her wrists and ankles. The sound made Peggy jump, and she scampered over to the medbay door.

Abruptly, the lights shifted. This was it. The scene was starting.

Immediately, Peggy was struck by the realization that, metaphorically speaking, all eyes were now on her. Sentinel Green was the hero of the scene. It was on her to get the ball rolling. She knew the script practically line by line, but acting it out properly was another matter. Peggy had never done anything like it before. She wasn’t even sure if she could.

But the more she thought about it, the more a strange, nervous excitement started to flood her limbs. It was the same feeling Peggy got when she was standing a little too close to the edge of a high precipice. The urge to take a leap of faith. To throw herself into the role. Her body burned with it and so Peggy let it take her, and stepped forwards.

“Blue!” she called out, her voice sounding, even to her own ears, brighter and clearer. Peggy took a few cautious steps into medbay - no, into Doctor Tomoe’s evil lab. “Sentinel Blue! Blue, I’m here to rescue you!”

"Green?” came the weak, weary reply. It was Chief Carter - no, Sentinel Blue - no, both. “Is that really you?”

Peggy rushed to her side at once. It was strange; now that she was playing a role, it was so much easier to stand taller and feel braver. She was a Star Sentinel. A hero. And she was here to save her comrade.

Looking down at Chief Carter in cosplay, though, made her feel anything but heroic. All of the shameful, secret feelings she’d experienced earlier came surging back - but they were all the stronger now that Chief Carter was like this: prone, helpless, restrained. With her arms trapped at her sides, her body was even more exposed, and the knowledge that she couldn’t resist anything being done to her was dizzyingly titillating.

It was like she was a doll. A toy to be played with. And it made Peggy itch to touch her.

Instead, she stayed on script. “Blue! I’m so glad I found you. Let’s get you out of here. Can you break out of those restraints?”

Chief Carter followed the script perfectly and began to strain against her bonds. Sentinel Blue was strong, but they were stronger. With all her muscles, Peggy wondered if Chief Carter might actually be able to bust out, but it appeared not. Just like in the episode of MaMeStaSe, she eventually gave up and slumped back into the examination chair, flushed and gleaming with sweat from her exertion.

There was, however, one major difference between the Sentinel Blue Peggy was looking at now, and the one from her beloved anime.

This Sentinel Blue was blatantly extremely turned on.

There was no mistaking it. Her cheeks were burning red from more than just strain, and there was a lurid shine to her eyes. She was panting far more than was reasonable, and with her cosplay outfit so absolutely tight around her body, Peggy could see that her nipples were forming two hard little bullets underneath the latex.

The sight was mesmerizing.

“S-Sentinel Blue?” Peggy ventured. She wasn’t sure what to do.

"I-I guess I’m not… s-strong enough,” Chief Carter panted. The confession made her squirm. It was obvious it excited her. “You’ll have to… to set me free.”

She was sticking to the script, at least as far as the dialogue was concerned. Was Peggy supposed to play along, like nothing strange was happening? That seemed absurd, and yet there was something irresistible about it. It was like she’d be living in a work of pornography.

Peggy decided to keep going. If nothing else, she couldn’t help wanting to see Chief Carter squirm even more.

“I’ll look around,” she said in an urgent stage whisper. “We just need to get you out before-“

“Before I return?”

Dr. Hiraga’s voice, coming from behind the holographic privacy screen at the far end of medbay, sent chills down Peggy’s spine. She knew Dr. Hiraga, of course. Everybody on the ship did. But she sounded different now. Her voice was colder and more sinister. She sounded like a villainess.

It was perfect for the role of Doctor Tomoe.

“Doctor Tomoe!” Peggy cried right on cue, dropping into a fighting stance. “But you’re supposed to be on the other side of the city!”

“Did you really think I would fall for that cheap distraction?” Doctor Tomoe cackled. “I sent my minions to take care of it. Your friends are tied up fighting them. Which means you’re here, alone, with me.”

She stepped out from behind the privacy screen and, even though it was true to the script, there was nothing planned or intended about the way Peggy gasped.

Dr. Hiraga was in cosplay too, of course, and her outfit was a perfect match for Doctor Tomoe’s. In MaMeStaSe, the evil scientist wore a long, white lab coat over a sleek, black bodysuit of some kind. And in keeping with the other cosplays, Dr. Hiraga had chosen to render the bodysuit in black latex, polished to a mirror sheen.

In the past, Peggy had never given Dr. Hiraga’s body a second thought. Now, it was impossible to ignore. Every single one of her indulgent, middle-aged curves was highlighted by the way the light glistened off the shining rubber. It was glorious. Peggy forgot how rude it was to stare. Not drooling was the most she could manage. Dr. Hiraga was shining like a dark star. Unlike the magical girl cosplays, hers was suggestive only in its sleekness. It wasn’t revealing or needlessly tight. It made her feel more dignified than Peggy or Chief Carter. It made her powerful.

She had become Doctor Tomoe.

The cognitive dissonance hitting Peggy was hypnotic. It was like she was looking at two people at once. The gentle, caring Dr. Hiraga, and the evil, indomitable Doctor Tomoe. It seemed just as impossible for Dr. Hiraga to be so imposing and sinister as it did for Doctor Tomoe to be here, real, in the flesh. It was a perfect cosplay. She kept instinctively searching for some missing detail, for something out of place, but there was nothing. Even her makeup, thick and sharp and dark, was perfect for the character.

Which was a huge problem, since the character in question had been the source of some of Peggy’s biggest sexual awakenings.

“Surprised?” Dr. Hiraga - no, Doctor Tomoe - no, both - cocked an eyebrow, amused. “You should be. I have you exactly where I want you, Sentinel Green.”

“How dare you!” The scripted words came effortlessly to Peggy’s lips. She couldn’t break the scene, no matter how flustered she was. “In the name of the stars, I’ll bring you to justice!”

“Oh? All on your own?” Dr. Hiraga’s smirk was so perfectly mocking and superior, that Peggy couldn’t believe it was acted. She was utterly convincing. “You’re not so strong without your magical little friends.”

Peggy squirmed at her dripping, molten contempt. A hundred scenarios flashed through her mind, each more perverse and depraved than the last. Her mind, tainted by countless hours of staring adoringly at lewd cosplays, was working overdrive. Peggy couldn’t count how many times she’d blown off steam thinking about Doctor Tomoe. But no matter what, she had to stick to the script.

“I’m not the one who’s alone!” she shot back. Even though she was insanely turned on, her voice sounded heroic and full of innocent conviction. Dr. Hiraga was a perfect Doctor Tomoe, but Peggy was managing a decent Sentinel Green. “You don’t have your minions here. And I have my friend right by my side!”

"She’s a little tied down at the moment,” Dr. Hiraga sneered viciously. “She won’t be any help to you!”

“That’s what you think!” Peggy cried. “But with the power of friendship and justice on our side, we can overcome anything!”

Now she was the one panting and struggling to keep the lust out of her voice. Nevertheless, she reached across Chief Carter to put her hands on one of the metal shackles keeping her trapped against the examination chair. In the episode, Sentinel Green summoned her magic and used it to set Sentinel Blue free. Hopefully, Dr. Hiraga and Chief Carter had set things up so that if she just tugged a little bit, the manacles would release of their own volition.

Sure enough, they did. Even though it was all fake, in that moment, Peggy felt genuinely heroic. She was channeling the emotion of the scene, and that made it easy to plant her hands squarely on her hips as she stared down the villainous Doctor Tomoe.

“There! Now it’s two against one,” Peggy declared. “Surrender now, Doctor Tomoe. Or else.”

Chief Carter rose to her feet to stand beside her, gently nursing her wrists. The two of them made a perfect matching pair as they squared off against the doctor, even if Chief Carter seemed, somehow, a touch disappointed. Thanks to the magic of the moment, her presence made Peggy feel that much stronger and braver. Even though they were both wearing porny latex. Even though she knew exactly what was about to happen.

“Is that so?” Dr. Hiraga purred. “You’re right about one thing, Sentinel Green. It is two against one - just not the way you think.”

Lazily, she raised a hand and snapped her fingers.

Peggy looked round sharply as she sensed Chief Carter abruptly start to sway. Immediately, she froze. She had been expecting, maybe, a convincing performance of being stunned or entranced. Despite the strange reaction she’d had to the restraints, Chief Carter was proving to be a surprisingly skilled performer. What Peggy saw now, though, went far beyond acting.

Chief Carter had spirals in her eyes.

It was impossible. At first Peggy thought it had to be a trick of light, but no. The more she stared, the more it became clear that this was completely and totally real. Chief Carter’s eyes had become spinning, spiraling orbs, each one glowing from within with an unfathomable light. Peggy couldn’t believe how accurate to the anime it was. The way Chief Carter had swayed and sagged as if totally drained of mind and thought was just as perfect.

“W-what have you done to her?” Peggy breathed. It was Sentinel Green’s line, but the question was genuine.

“No one can resist my treatment!” Dr. Hiraga cackled. “Not even the Star Sentinels. Sentinel Blue is mine now. She’s one of my minions. And soon, you will be too.”

“N-no,” Peggy gasped. She was completely caught up in the emotion of the scene. She remembered the sense of dawning shock and horror she’d felt so many times, watching this moment unfold. Now, she was living it.

“Oh yes,” Dr. Hiraga crowed. “You’ll soon see! Minion, seize her!”

Peggy shivered and squirmed as she felt Chief Carter’s powerful hands seize her by the shoulders.

“Blue!” Peggy let her voice become a high-pitched, girly shriek. “What are you doing?”

“She can’t hear you now,” Dr. Hiraga warned. “Minion, strap her to the chair!”

Peggy hadn’t thought this far ahead, and so she wasn’t prepared for the way Chief Carter lifted her bodily off the ground without the slightest hint of real effort. Evidently, when she’d pushed the science officer against the wall earlier, she’d been using a bare fraction of her true strength. When Peggy felt her feet leave the floor, the way she writhed in a frantic bid to squirm free wasn’t acted. It was very, very real.

Fortunately for her, Chief Carter wasted no time in swinging her around and placing her down firmly on the exam chair. An instant later, she was forcing Peggy’s hands into the same manacles she herself had just been freed from. Peggy was too stunned to say anything, and what had stunned her the most was Chief Carter’s complete lack of gentleness. The chief had been so friendly and enthusiastic, but now she was throwing Peggy around like she was nothing more than a sack of meat.

Almost like she was really brainwashed.

It was a silly thought, but Peggy couldn’t seem to shake it. There was just no way Chief Carter was actually this good of an actor. Everything about the way she moved and carried herself was unnatural and rigid. It was too perfect. And then there were her eyes. Peggy had seen plenty of cheap cosplay tricks. Enough to know that they weren’t just a trick. Most alarmingly of all, when she stared into Chief Carter’s eyes for just a little too long, she could feel herself starting to slip under the spirals’ hypnotic influence.

Something strange was happening.

So shouldn’t she say something? Do something? Call the scene to a halt? That would have been the responsible thing to do. But Peggy couldn’t make herself do it. There was a magic to the moment. To the way they were all three of them caught up in the flow of the scene, living out their characters’ actions, feeling all their sensations and feelings.

It was everything Peggy could have ever asked for. She couldn’t give it up.

“Not so strong now, are you?” Dr. Hiraga mocked. She moved to stand over Peggy, and from where the science officer was sitting she seemed more imposing than ever. “You Star Sentinels are so easy to fool.”

Peggy’s mouth was dry, but she forced herself to stick to the script.

“S-Sentinel Blue!” she cried out in a decidedly uneven voice. “You have to listen to me! You have to fight! You can beat this! Resist!”

Chief Carter opened her mouth and for a moment, despite the source material, Peggy found herself hoping she would find the strength to fight off the mind control.

Instead, all she said was: “I obey Doctor Tomoe,” in a droning, monotone voice that was so far away from Chief Carter’s usual, brash tones it made Peggy whimper.

“It’s no use,” Dr. Hiraga sneered. “She’s completely under my control. And soon, you’ll be just like her.”

“N-never!” Peggy tried to sound defiant, just like Sentinel Green. Instead, she sounded like she was moaning. It was like she was a porn parody of the real thing - a thought that drove her wild with need.

“Ridiculous!” Dr. Hiraga threw back her head and laughed. “You’re powerless, Sentinel Green! Look, you can’t even brush my hand away.”

Peggy went very, very still as Dr. Hiraga reached down and rested a latex-gloved hand on her thigh, up under the hem of her skirt.

This was it. It was an infamous moment in the anime, depicted in a thousand less-than-savory fanworks - especially ones by lesbian fans. Peggy had always steadfastly maintained that it was a simple illustration of Doctor Tomoe’s lack of respect for others, but it was hard to deny that there was something titillating about it.

Peggy, turned on as she was, had mostly been hoping she wouldn’t do something embarrassing like squirm or moan. She had been sure Dr. Hiraga would barely even touch her. It was just roleplay, right?

Instead, Dr. Hiraga started openly groping her.

At first, when Peggy first felt the doctor’s fingers pressing roughly and insistently into the flesh of her pale, exposed, sensitive thighs, she couldn’t believe what was happening. Surely it was just a mistake. Surely Dr. Hiraga was just about to break character and apologize. But no - she just kept going, and with each passing moment, her grin widened and her fingers reached further up Peggy’s hips.

The look in the doctor’s eyes was the most shocking part of it. They were shining with glee and malice, like she was drunk on the pleasure of violating Peggy’s body. It was completely authentic and sincere, and completely unlike Dr. Hiraga.

But perfect for Doctor Tomoe.

Before Peggy could dwell on that, the sensations filling her body overtook her shock. Her back arched, and she was forced to gasp and pant for each breath. Her cheeks turned the deepest red as she was drowned in overwhelming embarrassment and shame over how she was reacting. But she couldn’t help it. Being touched like this felt amazing, even though she wasn’t sure why.

Maybe it was because she’d watched this scene in the anime hundreds of times, fascinated by how it looked, imagining how it might feel, wondering what it would be like to look up helplessly at Doctor Tomoe. And now she was living it. She was living her fantasy, and her whole body was electric with the thrill.

“You see?” Dr. Hiraga mocked. “Helpless.”

Her hand reached further, pushing up her tiny latex skirt and beginning to touch at the hem of her panties. Peggy couldn’t help but moan, but even as she did she was wracked with confusion. Had Doctor Tomoe gone quite this far in the anime? Wasn’t this a little too much? She couldn’t exactly remember. It was getting so hard to think clearly.

“G-g-get off me!” Peggy whined. She sounded unconvincing - but then again, so had Sentinel Green in a few moments. “Y-you’ll pay for this!”

“We’ll see about that,” Dr. Hiraga purred. She brought her other hand to Peggy’s chest and started groping her there, too. There was something magical about the sensation of latex on latex. “Soon enough, you’ll accept me eagerly. You’ll profess your undying devotion and obedience. You’ll beg for me.”

“N-n-never!” Peggy moaned as Dr. Hiraga squeezed her tits and stroked the lips of her cunt.

They were off-script now, she was sure of it. Doctor Tomoe had never touched Sentinel Green like this. So… she should put a stop to this, right? That thought nagged at her again. Wouldn’t that be the right thing to do? Young though Peggy was, she was still an officer. Things like this weren’t supposed to happen on a military vessel. But in the moment, she was struggling to think about that.

She was too busy thinking about how wet she was. Too busy struggling to figure out if she wanted Dr. Hiraga to notice or not.

The fantasy was too powerful. She couldn’t sacrifice it. She wanted - she needed - to immerse herself deeper, no matter how twisted it was getting. Where was she ever going to find this feeling again?

All she needed to do was stop thinking and lose herself to the wet dream. She was being groped by Doctor Tomoe. By the hottest villainess in all of fiction. It was amazing.

It was so amazing, she whined in disappointment when Dr. Hiraga finally pulled away. The doctor noticed, and the look of scorn that flashed through her eyes made Peggy’s cunt clench.

“I can’t wait to brainwash you to our cause,” Doctor Tomoe declared. “But the pleasure won’t be all mine. My dark mistress wishes to see you fall.”

Peggy’s eyes flew wide. She’d almost forgotten. The big twist of this arc of Magical Maidens Star Sentinels was that Doctor Tomoe was, herself, brainwashed - by the true villain, Queen Betalia. What did that mean? What was going to happen? When Queen Betalia showed up, she was more of a looming, shadowy presence than a real character. A hologram, perhaps?

“Queen Betalia!” Dr. Hiraga cried out theatrically. “We beseech you! Appear before us!”

There was a distinctive hum as holographic projectors concealed around medbay flickered into life. Peggy wasn’t sure what she had been expecting to see, but the very last thing she’d anticipated was an ominous, familiar figure with dyed hair, wild eyes, and dozens of visible tattoos and piercings.

It was Wasp. The vandal-hacker the Inyx was hunting.

As science officer, Peggy wasn’t as motivated as some of the other crew members by the thought of catching her. She was in it for the experience, and to study any anomalies they came across. But she’d still been in all the briefings. She knew exactly who this woman was, even if she couldn’t begin to fathom what exactly her presence here meant.

Wasp, unlike the rest of them, wasn’t wearing any kind of cosplay. She was dressed in what Peggy understood to be her typical attire: leggings, a big, punk battle jacket, and a sports bra. But if that wasn’t enough to set her apart from the role-players, the way she leered at Peggy and cackled certainly was.

"You know, you’re really a girl after my own heart,” Wasp said to Peggy in an absurdly conversational voice. “I mean, I’m a hacker, right? Deep down I’m a huge nerd. Not that I’ve ever taken it as far as you. That’s one hell of a hentai collection buried in your personal computer files.”

Peggy craned her head to look at Chief Carter and Dr. Hiraga. Chillingly, neither one of them had reacted to Wasp’s holographic presence in any way. Both of them were just standing there like statues. Like dolls who had been momentarily set aside.

This was really bad.

“Oh, don’t worry about them,” Wasp told her. “In fact…”

She snapped her fingers in Dr. Hiraga’s face. An instant later, Dr. Hiraga’s eyes turned into glowing, spinning spirals. The exact same spirals that Peggy could see in Chief Carter’s.

This was really, really bad.

Peggy’s mind, still sluggish from arousal and fantasy, was struggling to parse what this meant. Were they still roleplaying? It seemed unlikely. If Wasp was meant to be Queen Betalia, she wasn’t in character, or even in cosplay. Why would it be her? And if she was just a hologram, why was she veering off script and breaking the fourth wall?

But what was the alternative? That Wasp, a hacker, had infiltrated the Inyx’s systems and somehow brainwashed senior members of the crew? That was even more difficult to face up to.

“Hey, hey, relax,” Wasp added when she noticed Peggy’s growing distress. “Just think of me as part of your little roleplay. Just an unexpected little twist. That’s how this is supposed to go, right? The big bad shows up, trances the doc, and then the magical girl gets brainwashed. Trust me, I’m not going to ruin your fun on that count. That’s the very last thing I’d want.”

Peggy just kept glancing nervously between Chief Carter and Dr. Hiraga for clarification. She wasn’t sure what to believe. She tugged against her restraints again, hoping against hope that they might come loose.

“L-let me go,” Peggy protested weakly. “You’ll pay for this!”

They were just the words that popped into her head. They felt right. But they were also Sentinel Green’s words.

Wasp seemed to pick up on that. “That’s right,” she urged. “Just lie back, magical girl. Enjoy the ride. Hell, enjoy the view.”

“B-but…” Peggy spluttered uncertainly, once again half-consciously echoing her character, “But… but…”

“Just look at them.” Wasp gestured towards Chief Carter and Dr. Hiraga, drawing Peggys’ eye. “Aren’t they perfect? Isn’t this exactly what you wanted?”

Once Peggy looked, she couldn’t look away. There was something spellbinding about seeing her fellow officers like this. The cosplay, of course, sent forbidden thrills of pleasure running down Peggy’s spine, but so did the way they were just standing there, devoid of emotion or personality. They looked so empty. They were like toys, waiting to be played with. Like figurines, waiting to be posed.

“Or… maybe you’d prefer it like this.”

Wasp made a show of snapping her fingers again. As she did, Chief Carter and Dr. Hiraga shuddered back to life, although their eyes didn’t return to normal. Instead, their spirals shifted color to a deep, pink tint. They didn’t react to Peggy or Wasp either. Without warning, the two women stared intently at each other and then rushed into one another’s arms.

“Oh, Sentinel Blue!” Dr. Hiraga cried, in a voice uncharacteristically thick with unrestrained emotion. “I can’t pretend anymore! It was always you.”

“I know!” Sentinel Blue wailed. “The truth is, I never cared about Sentinel Yellow. I never cared about justice or vanquishing evil. I don’t think I ever cared about anything but you. I love you!”

The two of them started mashing their faces together in a deep, clumsy, passionate kiss. The little scene playing out between them was so strange and melodramatic it was almost comical, but Peggy wasn’t laughing. She was enthralled. She recognized this - their words, their kissing.

It was from a work of fanfiction. A work of fanfiction she’d written, years ago.

As the two brainwashed officers kept kissing and grabbing at each other in their overenthusiastic display of affection, Peggy couldn’t dream of looking away. She couldn’t even bring herself to feel guilty about staring. After all, this was yet another of her fantasies come to life. They were literally following her script. Wasn’t she meant to look? Weren’t these two supposed to be looked at?

That’s what cosplay was all about.

The sheer, blatant, fetishistic nature of their latex outfits only accentuated that further. Ogling them for Peggy’s enjoyment just seemed right. They were dolls. Dolls were meant to be played with. That was obvious.

Her anguish over her situation was starting to abate, and her cunt was starting to drip down onto the examination chair beneath her.

“Or,” Wasp added, “it could be like this.”

The hacker snapped her fingers yet again, and Dr. Hiraga and Chief Carter’s eyes changed color once more. Without any hesitation, they broke off from kissing. All of the overflowing, ardent longing they had been expressing drained away into nothing. Moving in eerie synchronization, they knelt next to the examination chair Peggy was restrained in, one on each side of her.

“Sentinel Green,” Chief Carter whispered, in a low, breathy, seductive voice that made Peggy’s whole body tingle. “We’re all yours. We’re here to service you.”

Peggy whimpered as raw need washed over her.

“We’ll do anything,” came Dr. Hiraga’s voice from her other side. Hearing Doctor Tomoe talk like this was driving Peggy crazy. She sounded like an actress from a cheap porno. “We just want to make you feel good.”

As one, they lowered their mouths to her body and started kissing, licking, sucking across her bare skin, all along her legs and arms. Peggy couldn’t keep herself from squirming wildly, but with the restraints keeping her limbs trapped, there was no escape. She couldn’t believe how sensitive her body had become.

It was the cosplay and the roleplay. Layers upon layers of fantasy and fiction, each one heightening the fetishistic appeal even more. The way Chief Carter and Dr. Hiraga were behaving now was unmistakably pornographic, and that was the hottest thing of all for Peggy. She was watching them debase her favorite characters, all for her titillation and her pleasure.

“Do you know the best part?” Wasp commented, grinning wickedly. “They’re not acting. Not pretending. Oh no. I made them believe. To them, you’re really Sentinel Green.”

Peggy flushed and shivered. God, that was so hot.

“And in a way, they’re not wrong,” Wasp mused. “Just look at yourself. You’re just like them. You fit in perfectly. The costumes really are perfect. It suits you.”

Peggy wasn’t sure why being complimented by a villain and a criminal made her body throb with fresh pleasure - but it did. This was all she wanted. To be Sentinel Green. To submerge into the character. To look good and hot in her cosplay. Nothing could be more arousing.

“You know,” Wasp added leadingly, “if anyone walked in here right now, they wouldn’t be able to see the difference between you and them. I’m not sure I can.”

That comment lit a fire in Peggy’s mind. No difference. It made sense, when she looked down at herself. She was dressed just as provocatively. She was acting just as pornographically.

Just like them, she was a doll.

Something to be posed. Something to be played with.

As Peggy continued to moan and squirm, Wasp bent down and put her lips to Peggy’s ear.

“And,” she whispered, “in just a moment, I’m going to make you exactly like them. I’m going to make you mine.”

Peggy froze. She’d been getting lost in the fantasy. But as much as she wanted to be Sentinel Green, she was Peggy Morgan too. She was the Inyx’s science officer. She had a responsibility to the crew.

And yet…

“Don’t get me wrong,” Wasp added, straightening. “You don’t have any choice about it. I’m sure you’re already plenty wound up. There’s no way you can resist. I’m just saying, it’s up to you how you want to feel about it.”

“W… what…?” Peggy managed, desperately confused.

“I’m just saying.” Wasp shrugged. “Who needs boring old reality, when you can live a fantasy like this. Am I right?”

Peggy’s back suddenly arched as Dr. Hiraga planted a kiss dangerously close to her needy, throbbing cunt. Clear thought was a distant memory. What Wasp was suggesting should have horrified her - but it didn’t. Instead, one single, powerful observation was at the forefront of her mind.

In all the time she’d spent on the Inyx, this was the best she’d ever felt.

Something inside the nerdy science officer snapped. She made her voice.

“Y-you can’t!” she cried out desperately. “I’ll never betray my comrades! You c-can’t make me!”

It should have been a cry of defiance, but the words weren’t hers.

They were Sentinel Green’s.

“Atta girl.” Wasp laughed. “I won’t sugarcoat it, though. You’re totally gonna betray everyone. I’m gonna use your smarts to perfect this little implant-brainwashing procedure the doc and I have been working on. No more breaking down resistance. One little zap is all it’ll take. Soon enough, everyone on this fucking ship is gonna be under my spell.”

Peggy just moaned. It felt so right. Sentinel Green, brainwashed to betray her allies. That was how the story was supposed to go.

“But you’ll have fun,” Wasp told her. “I can promise you that. I can have endless fun with you. And with the chief, and the doctor. And, who knows? Maybe once I’ve got the whole ship, we can put the rest of the Star Sentinels together.”

For just one single word, Peggy let herself break from the script and say something Sentinel Green never would have said.

“P-please!”

Wasp laughed again, and snapped her fingers. Chief Carter and Dr. Hiraga rose to their feet and backed away. Wasp drew herself up theatrically.

“Y’know, I’m glad you asked so nicely. I may have gone a little overboard when I was planning this out. It took a little time to get the hardlight holograms to look and work just right. But I don’t regret the effort. I figure you’ll appreciate the fanservice.”

She extended a hand down towards Peggy, and there was a loud hum as the medbay’s holographic projectors kicked into overdrive. An instant later, two tendrils made of something shiny and black erupted from Wasp’s hand. They were fake, of course - they had to be - but they were as real as Wasp, and she’d already proven how dangerous she could be.

And more importantly, within the fantasy Peggy had surrendered to, they were all-powerful. Shadowy conduits of Queen Betalia’s will.

The tendrils looked like they were made of the same kind of latex as the cosplays, shiny and alluring, but they moved like living creatures, snaking towards Peggy before pouncing on her, one on each side of her head, and burrowing deep into her ears.

Peggy shuddered for a moment as she felt something cold and malevolent touch something deep inside her, implanting something there, behind her eyes.

And then, as the holo-stimulant implant came to life, her eyes were drowned in glowing spirals, and she thought about nothing at all.

As she peeked through a tiny crack in the door to medbay and beheld the debauchery unfolding within, Crewman Lori Delaney tried her hardest to keep perfectly still and quiet. She’d come down here after, as usual, feigning sickness to get off her duty shift. Dr. Hiraga was a soft touch; it was usually easy to convince her to provide a doctor’s note and let Delaney rest for a few hours instead of working. Other officers would usually catch on and chew her out, though, so she’d developed the habit of opening the door a crack so she could peek through and make sure nobody annoying was around.

Starship doors weren’t supposed to open like that. Especially not when they were locked. But with a little hotwiring, anything was possible.

Today, she’d found far more than she’d been expecting. Something truly weird was happening in medbay - and clearly, it involved Wasp. Delaney didn’t care about the Inyx’s duty to catch her even a little bit. In fact, she was tired of their uptight bitch of a captain’s constant lectures about it. But that didn’t mean she had any sympathy for a preening, attention-grabbing asshole like Wasp. And given that she clearly already had several members of the crew under her control, there was really only one thing Lori Delaney could do.

She rose silently to her feet and ran off to find Captain Vasser.

---

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