#I have spent today stressed out and this is just what I needed - I’m glad I checked my inbox ->

[feverishly-kpop]

Ateez - Nauseous at Work Vignettes - 2/8 - Seonghwa

Seonghwa had been worried about Wooyoung when he put him to bed the night prior after the two of them had gone out drinking. They didn’t have schedules the following morning, but the thought of looking after a hungover dongsaeng the following morning was not necessarily how Seonghwa had hoped to spend his day off.

So it came as a surprise to him when he was shaken awake by Wooyoung, who was already dressed and looking completely well.

“Hyung, the photo shoot got moved up to today” Wooyoung said with some urgency. “There’s a huge storm coming tomorrow so they moved it up.”

Seonghwa nodded, his head aching as he did so. He glanced up at Wooyoung, who had easily downed twice as much soju than Seonghwa himself and had to be carried home on Seonghwa’s back.

Damn him.

“No hyung, please don’t close your eyes again. Hongjoong-hyung is all worked up trying to get everybody up and out within the next half hour” Wooyoung pleaded with him, shaking his shoulder again.

“Okay, okay I’m getting up” Seonghwa said, the volume of his own voice coming out far too loud despite being hardly above a whisper. Wooyoung seemed to notice Seonghwa wince as he sat up, offering him an understanding smile as he pulled out some clothes for his hyung.

“Are you feeling okay?” Seonghwa questioned, rubbing his eyes in an attempt to dull the pain settling behind them. Wooyoung nodded in response, stepping out for just a moment before returning with a few pain tablets and a bottle of water.

“I’m fine, hyung. Sorry I was so…messy…last night.” Guilt seeped into Wooyoung’s timid apology as he realized how unwell Seonghwa was feeling after he had spent the last hour of their night sitting with Wooyoung, rubbing his back and offering him sips of water after round of sick.

Seonghwa smiled in response as he swallowed his tablets. “It’s okay, Wooyoungie, I’m just glad you’re feeling better this morning. I’m sure I will be too once the meds kick in.”

*~*~*~*~*~

Seonghwa did not feel better once the meds kicked in. Hell, he wasn’t even sure that they had kicked in at all. He did his best to keep the discomfort he was feeling to himself, not wanting to add additional stress to what was already a very stressful day for Hongjoong. This was one of the more complicated shoots they’d done and the fact that it was so suddenly pushed forward had the captain on edge. He didn’t need Seonghwa’s hangover to further complicate things.

He could sense Wooyoung’s eyes on him throughout the shoot. Luckily it was not physically taxing in any way, but his outfit was heavy and uncomfortable, and much too tight around his waist with his stomach, making the nausea that was beginning to set in that much worse.

They had just about finished with group shots when the photographer announced that they’d do individual shots next and that Seonghwa would be first.

Seonghwa did his best. He really did.

The hot sun overhead did nothing to help his pounding head and looming nausea. He knew if he waited any longer, he’d have an embarrassing mess on his hands. After making the split second decision, he bowed quickly to the photographer, muttering something about the washroom, before he stumbled off the set.

Wooyoung noticed immediately and instantly dropped the snack bar he had been eating to race to Seonghwa’s side.

“Wooyoung-ah” he managed to gasp between heavy breaths. “I’m going to be sick.”

With that, Wooyoung pulled off the long jacket he had been wearing, using it as a makeshift curtain to give Seonghwa some privacy as he doubled over, immediately regretting every bit of food and drink he had consumed in the last 24 hours.

“This is so embarrassing” Seonghwa whined once he felt like he had finished for the time being. Wooyoung didn’t respond, more focused on finding some solitude and shade for his hyung.

“I’m sure they got plenty of good shots to use. You were just about done when…” Wooyoung’s voice faded off, not wanting to rehash any details unnecessarily.

Seonghwa nodded before adding weakly, “I’m just so nauseous still. But Woo, you don’t need to stay. I’ll just close my eyes for a little while to see if it’ll pass…”

Wooyoung signed, brushing Seonghwa’s hair from his face. “Hyung, you took care of me last night. Let me return the favor so we can call it even.”

[olliethescribe]

hope your day tomorrow goes smoothly

have some hippo studies I drew over a scrabble game <3

Thank you! Yesterday went better than expected but now I’m serving on an actual trial as juror. Let’s just say that these beautiful hippo sketches have just made my entire day and I’m gonna treasure them 💖 because they have and I’m crying a little over how much I love them /pos /gen

[greatooglymooglyyy]

It's Never Over (C. S.)

contains: 2nd person pov, angst, somewhat toxic relationship, verbal argument, relationship issues, kissing, smut (softdom!chris), overstimulation, angry/make up sex, unprotected sex, 3.4k words

a/n: hi friends. this is apart of the triple threat event sooo don't forget to go see my babies @luv4kozume and @rootbeerworshiper for two more fics for your smutty needs. j will be posting in one hour and sienna is an hour after that.

masterlist

Maybe we’re too young.

The thought bounces around your head uncontrollably as you watch Chris move silently through the kitchen from your perch on the counter. You haven’t been home long- maybe 10 minutes- but after the day you’ve had, the silence feels like a jab.

“So,” you start, raising your eyebrow as he pulls out a drink and leans against the counter across from you. “How do you think the pictures will turn out?”

He gives you a tired look, seemingly trying to gauge whether your question is a trap. “I actually really fucked with it. It’s a new look for us.”

You two had spent the entire day on the set of a photo and promo shoot for Fresh Love’s new line of products. He was right about it being a new look and he’d gone all out for the launch; the shoot had been completely 90s-themed to match the vibe of the products and he’d recruited some influencers to model. 

Not that you were keeping track or anything, but the original idea had been yours and you’d put countless hours in helping him execute it. That isn’t to say you minded at all... at least not until today.

“I’m glad it’s exactly how you envisioned it.” You say, testing the waters unsure if you wanted to raise the issue again.

But Chris takes the bait and groans. “Don’t start.”

“I didn’t even say anything, Chris. But I just don’t understand why my input stops being taken seriously as soon as other people are around.”

“Did you ever stop and consider that maybe my photoshoot wasn’t the place for you to start a random ass argument?” 

“I wasn’t trying to start one. And my bad, I didn’t realize you stopped being my boyfriend when you walked on a set.” Your eyes narrow as you stare him down, irritation at the situation resurfacing.

He sighs heavily, running a hand over his face. “I don’t but it’d be cool if my girlfriend supported me on days like this instead of adding more stress.”

Your eyes grow wide and you look around dramatically. “I’m sorry? Is that not all I do? Planning with you. Pitching ideas. Running around finding any little thing I can do to help? You wouldn’t even have the new product ideas without me.”

He throws his hands up in surrender, pushing off the counter and stepping closer. “And I’m grateful, baby. You know I am. I’m not saying you’re not important to me. I’m saying it can’t always be about you.”

“Can it sometimes be about me?” You question, feeling like you’re losing your mind. “I would never have an entire photoshoot full of influencers and not even ask you to join. Do you know how embarrassing that was?”

“Oh my-” He laughs out harshly, turning away for a second and then turning back. “I knew that’s what this was about. The team wanted people with over a million, not me-”

“And who owns Fresh Love, Chris? Don’t act like you have no control.”

“I own it, but it’s not just me who runs it. How stupid would I be if I hired a marketing team and didn't fucking listen to them?” His voice raises slightly and he shakes his head, attempting to regain composure.

“Probably as stupid as I looked pulling up to the set and looking for hair and makeup. You should have told me.” With that you slide off of the counter, intending to let the argument die there and go to bed but he follows behind you. 

“How are you mad at me because you assumed you were modeling? I never said that. I invited you to the set like I do every time because You. Are. My. Girlfriend.” He claps to emphasize his points and you spin to glare at him.

 

“I’m not just your girlfriend, Chris. I work hard on my content just like you.” You say defensively. The decision to even begin posting was his idea so you can’t believe how unsupported you feel.

“And I'm so proud of you. You know I am.” He says with sincerity, bringing a hand to his chest. “But you aren’t..." His sentence trails off and he gives you an uncomfortable look.

“What?” You challenge, knowing exactly where this is going. “Say it. Tell me how little I matter since I haven’t hit the right numbers yet.”

He rolls his eyes and looks up at the ceiling. “It’s business. And they asked for people with reach. What did you want me to do?”

“Fight for me, Chris. That’s what I expected you to do.” You turn and head over to your dresser, snatching out your favorite oversized t-shirt and changing quickly.

Chris leans against the door frame with his arms crossed, watching you intensely until you finally face him with a scowl. “Stop following me.”

“I just can’t believe this is how you want to end this night. Why can’t you celebrate this win with me?” He asks, annoyance coating his tone. 

“Go celebrate with Brooke. You two looked comfy today.” You suggest as you pass him to head into the bathroom.

Behind you, he barks out a laugh of disbelief before whispering something under his breath. You don’t even bother asking him to speak up, grabbing your makeup remover instead.

“So what’s that supposed to mean, huh? You're gonna start throwing accusations at me now?” He sounds absolutely over the conversation but won’t walk away to cool off. It’s a flaw you have in common.

“Just saying Addison has twice the followers as her but somehow you put her centerstage. I mean, I thought this was a numbers game.” You say, refusing to look over at him as you lather your face wash.

If you’re being completely honest, it’s not like you actually believe Chris would ever cheat on you. One thing Chris has always been is loyal to a fault. But right now you're itching for a reaction. No matter how you have to get it. 

“You have to be fucking kidding.” He says, reacting exactly like you expected him to. “When the fuck would I be cheating on you?” 

“How am I supposed to know? People make time for what’s important to them.” You say, letting your voice take on a nonchalant tone as you pat your face dry.

“That’s so fucking stupid and you know it. Look, I’m sorry you’re not where you want to be in your career but don’t take it out on me.” He grinds out, his voice thick with distaste.

You spin to face him, your eyebrows high. There it is. At least he finally said it. “Wow, Chris. Tell me how you really feel.”

“Y/N.” He says, rubbing his eyes roughly. “You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Do you think I could buy a shoutout, Mr. Six Mill? Only if you have time, of course.” You drawl, pressing your hands together into a begging gesture.

“Tell me what you want to hear, baby. Tell me what I need to say to end this conversation.” He says, stepping toward you but you take a step back instead, leaning against the sink. 

“How about an apology? How about recognizing that I worked hard on this launch too and deserved to be a part of it? Anything except this condescending bullshit.”

He drops to his knees dramatically, looking up at you with a faux pleading look on his face. “I’m so sorry, ma’am. Please forgive me.”

You shake your head and curl your lip up in disgust. “Yeah. ‘Cause everything’s a joke, right?”

Chris blows out a huff of irritation and stands up, reaching out to wrap his arms around you and spinning you around to face the mirror. He presses himself into your back and meets your eye in the reflection as he runs his hands up and down your body. “Aren’t you tired of arguing yet?”

Your gaze drops to his hands, watching as he slowly and methodically slides up your oversized t-shirt and rubs teasingly at your inner thighs.

"You know I love you." He whispers, his grip tightening as he trails higher, grazing your heat before dipping his hands back down.

“Do you?” You question childishly, heat flooding your body as his hands travel your skin. He leans in close, the cool breath of his words sending a shiver down your spine. “Let me prove how much.”

Part of you wants to snatch away from him and refuse to reward his arrogance. But there is something so erotic about the way his eyes stay locked on yours as he moves in closer to where you need him most. Without your permission your body melts into his, the muscle memory from every other time he’s made you feel this way activating naturally. 

You turn your head to look at him full-on instead of the reflection, the slight flush on his face from the arguing turning you on even more. “Nah. Prove how much you need me.”

If Chris is at all surprised by your demand, he doesn’t show it. He just walks you closer to the sink and spins you around by the waist to face him. His blue eyes are so coated with lust and frustration they seem almost brown under the harsh bathroom lighting.

He lifts you onto the counter, pausing only for the barest of seconds before crashing his lips against yours. The sudden movement pushes the back of your head into the mirror but you barely feel it over the heat and pressure of his kiss. 

His hand travels under your shirt, his fingertips grazing your nipple with a frustratingly delicate touch that has you groaning into his mouth. You pull away, drawing a shudder out of him when you lightly nip his bottom lip as you do. 

“Stop wasting my time.” You demand, your hands fiddling with the bottom of his shirt in a hint for him to take it off. 

He does with a roll of his eyes before he comes back, placing a firm hand on the back of your neck and bringing you closer. “You can drop the attitude now. You know you want this just as much as I do.”

Pain flashes through you again briefly as you consider the possibility that this is the only thing you two will ever agree on wanting but you push it down and lean in to run a tongue over his collarbone. “Shut up and prove it like you said you would.”

A smirk grows across his face before he nods and kneels down slowly, pushing open your legs and roughly snatching off your thin underwear. Pushing your legs open wider, he buries his face in your inner thighs and peppers lingering kisses on them as he trails closer to your heat.  

When he finally reaches it, it’s clear he’s not done taking his time as he runs his tongue through your folds purposefully avoiding where you want him most. You push at his shoulders in annoyance and he chuckles darkly, only making your wetness grow despite yourself.

The first kiss he places on your clit is slow and shallow before he leans back to find your eyes. “I always forget how fucking pretty you are.” He says as he smooths a thumb over you before diving back in with a new urgency.

There’s reverence in the way his tongue circles your clit, the movements somehow both precise and desperate. Before you even realize what you’re doing, you find yourself grinding your hips up to chase your pleasure, pathetic whimpers falling from your lips.

You don’t need to glance down to feel his eyes on you, baby blue and laser-focused as he peers up to gauge your reaction, alternating expertly between sucking and flicking his tongue. But instead of giving him the reaction he wants, you press your fist into your mouth and work to keep your face a mask. You’re determined to grant him as little praise as possible, leftover anger spurring on your pettiness. 

Smiling against your core at the challenge, he readjusts his hold on you, slinging one of your legs lazily onto his shoulder before locking his arms around your thighs to keep you still. He pulls fully away and you finally snap your eyes to his, a protest on the tip of your tongue.

“I can do this all night and still make sure you never come. Stop playing with me.” His voice is like velvet as he warns you, not even pausing for your response before he buries himself back in. He taps your leg, signaling for you to hold it before he readjusts to add his fingers, swirling them around teasingly before pumping them inside to stretch you out.

All of your pride flies out the window as he fucks into you with his fingers, finding your g spot easily and caressing it. Flinging your head from side to side and calling his name wildly, you feel a familiar pressure building inside of you. “Please, Chris.” You beg as you tangle your hands into his hair.

His pace only increases when he realizes you are close, his moans against your clit sending vibrations through your body and driving you even crazier. You tug his hair lightly as your body tightens and grind your hips against his fingers to ride out your orgasm. 

Chris pauses and removes his fingers slowly before placing one last kiss on your throbbing heat. He comes up with his breathing unsteady and a look of pure triumph on his face as he sucks his fingers into his mouth. 

Your legs are still trembling slightly as you slide off of the counter and pull his face down to yours. This kiss feels different, like coming home, and you can tell he feels the same. He kisses you back like he loves you like the taste of you is air and he’s suffocating. 

It’s been a while since you two were desperate enough to leave marks on each other’s skin but he does tonight. And you let him without a single thought to the effort of covering them up, too focused on his tongue working over the sweet spots of your neck.

You reach down fumbling with his belt impatiently as your breathing goes ragged, and free his hardened length, stroking it slowly.

His lips freeze on your throat as he thrusts into your hand before he yanks away and spins you back around, pressing his palm into your back and kicking your feet apart to give him access.

You feel his tip nudge against your entrance, slipping down further to tease your clit briefly, your only warning before he slides inside of you. A cry tears out of you as he rolls his hips into yours, bottoming out. 

You’re still soaked from your orgasm but as he stretches you out around him, you feel yourself coat him even more and he groans. “My pretty girl. Best fucking feeling in the world.” He pushes your shirt further up your back, his fingertips trailing your spine lightly as he continues to thrust into you.

Squirming with a need for him to go faster, you push your hips up to meet his, forcing him deeper and making you both curse. He takes the hint, wrapping his hand tightly around your shirt for leverage before setting a brutal rough pace.

Your vision starts to blur so you close them as you try to hold on to the counter for stability. With your eyes squeezed tightly closed, it’s almost easy to pretend the tears swelling up are from the intensity of the moment and not from everything that came before. 

Because it’s nothing if not intense, your stomach pressing into the sink as he slams inside of you roughly. His free hand grips the counter so hard his knuckles turn white and he keeps up his insane pace. His name slips from your mouth as a moan, seeming to spur him on as he increases his tempo even more.

“That’s right, baby. What’s my name?” The sound of his voice barely breaks through your fucked out trance and you lift your head to see him through the mirror. 

The sight of him almost pushes you right over the edge immediately and you watch him in a sort of fascination. The way his muscles strain with his movement, his slightly open mouth before he bites down on his bottom lip. But it’s the wink he throws you when he notices you watching that has you contracting around him for the second time tonight.

This orgasm tears through you like a wave and you lose all control as Chris fucks you through it, never missing a stroke. If you had it in you to be embarrassed right now, you would be mortified at the things you say at this moment. Making promises, calling him names you never thought you’d utter, telling him exactly who you belong to.

When you come down, Chris’ pace slows and he pulls you up to face him. He watches you tenderly before he lifts the shirt from over your head and kisses you deeply.

He leads you to your bedroom and lays you down at the center of the bed, climbing on top of you slowly.

He enters you again with a gasp and you bring your mouth up to his to swallow it, his hand traveling up to lightly circle your neck. You moan in contentment and he makes a sound of approval from the back of his throat as he begins to thrust.

His strokes are slow and as deep as he can make them, his hands roaming your body as his tongue explores your mouth. There’s emotion laced in every snap of his hip and you know him well enough to understand every message. I love you. I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry. 

Pleasure coils around you as his thumb finds your clit and circles it, coaxing you closer to the finish line as he drops his head near your ear. His hips stuttering tell you he’s close and you bring your mouth up to his ear to whisper. “Come for me.” 

He groans loudly in response, fighting not to lose control yet. “You first.”

“I already did!” 

“I don’t care. Give me one more.” 

At his words, he pulls himself up and angles himself deeper, finding your g spot and plowing into it mercilessly. You drag your nails down his back, yours arching up off the bed. “Chris, I can’t.” 

He shushes you softly, his lips claiming yours again as he continues to push into you. Ultimately it’s his muffled moan of “fuck” against your mouth that sends you over the edge, your face screwed up from an erotic mix of ecstasy and exhaustion.

You know you can’t take much more but Chris follows right behind you, dropping his head on your shoulder and moaning your name into it.

You lay there breathing heavily, skin to skin, for a while before you tap his back and he slides out of you. Awkwardness settles between you, so thick you’re not sure what to do with it so you stand wordlessly and head for a shower.

Your thoughts race as you scrub the remnants of him off your skin. The words you threw back and forth play on repeat in your brain as you wonder how to fix what’s between you before it’s too late.

The bathroom door opens and you watch through the streamy glass as Chris settles on the counter. The same counter he had you bent over not long ago. 

You step out of the shower and grab your robe, all the while avoiding his eye contact. This is the part you hate the most. The part that never ends. Because neither of you knows how to force it to end. 

He clears his throat, gesturing for you to come to him when you finally meet his eyes. Once you are standing between his legs, he pushes your wet hair out of your face gently as he studies your face. “You know how much you mean to me, don’t you?”

The nod you give is reluctant and slow. It’s never been a question of if Chris loves you. Just a question of whether he appreciates you. 

But he continues this time, his eyes holding a fierce sort of intensity. “I’d give this all up for us if I had to. My whole platform if it means I can wake up next to you.” 

Your breath hitches at this and you feel the tears threatening to fall so you bury your face in his shoulder, letting him pull your body into his. 

And you hope. Hope that his words are more than just words. Hope that you’re not too young to keep each other from slipping between your fingers.

A/N: thanks so much for reading my loves. don't forget to head over to my girl @luv4kozume's page in exactly one hour for her new matt smut. 🗣️

🏷️/ @sttzee @tillies33ssss @miloisdone1 @sstvrnioloo @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @mrsmiagreer @asturniolos @teapartyprincess4two @whicked-hazlatwhore @sukiipjs @fratbrochrisgf @sturniolosmind @imfromthediningtable @st4rswrld @thvvluvr @sturnssmuts @littlenerdybee @sturniolossss @iloveneilperry @eclipzw @chrissloverrrrrrr16 @sstvrnioloo @clemlament @maryx2xx @fwskullz

[wambsgansshoelaces]

hi, i think u did a similar one already but could i get a hc on how succession characters react to their s/o crying? about feeling sad , or stressed , or losing a loved one , idk , just something mildly serious. i wasn't feeling great today and i started crying and my sister told me to stop crying and was like mean af to me and i could use some gentleness and affection :|

aw anon im so sorry :( I know I’m really late with this but I hope you’re doing much better <3 I’m always here for you in my ask box or pms!! your sister is an asshole you can cry whenever you want all of your emotions are valid and I love u u are so worthy

I hope these make you feel happy <3 enjoy x

serious issues (succession main cast)

Kendall

ᝰ when he notices your mood is off, he immediately goes solemn

ᝰ while if it were something smaller, he’d leave it and let you come up and talk to him on your own

ᝰ but he can tell it’s bad

ᝰ and he’s not going to let you stew in this by yourself

ᝰ he will help you

ᝰ whether you want him to or not

ᝰ he gets you a glass of water

ᝰ and forces you to drink

ᝰ then sits you down and makes you tell him what’s wrong

ᝰ when you do

ᝰ rather, when you burst into tears in his arms

ᝰ he can’t help but feel horrible

ᝰ he cradles your face in his hands and kisses away your tears

ᝰ he apologizes over and over

ᝰ he’s rubbing your back the entire time you tell him what’s going on

ᝰ “cry it all out. i’m right here.”

ᝰ he talks you through it

ᝰ he’s cosplaying his therapist

ᝰ if it was a death, he gets the name of where the service will be held and pays for it in secret

ᝰ over the next few weeks, you can just show up in his office and cry on his shoulder

ᝰ and he won’t ask any questions

ᝰ he always lets you

ᝰ the night you tell him, he keeps an arm hooked around you, keeping your head to his chest

ᝰ he plays with your hair and strokes soothing patterns into your skin for the rest of the night

ᝰ as you recover emotionally, he makes sure to check in on you

ᝰ even long after the incident, you both make sure that you have no bullshit check ins with each other

ᝰ “how are you really”s

ᝰ he makes it clear to you that he will always support you

ᝰ and you’re glad

Roman

ᝰ not really the best with words

ᝰ or emotions

ᝰ or being serious

ᝰ however

ᝰ the only time(s) he is 100% serious is when you’re severely upset

ᝰ the first time it happens, it’s like he stops breathing

ᝰ “hey, come here. something’s wrong. i need to know what.”

ᝰ you tell him

ᝰ it’s the hardest you’ve ever cried

ᝰ the entire time, he grips your hand, gently stroking the back of it with his fingers

ᝰ he’s never been more focused on anything in his life

ᝰ he wishes he could help talk you through it, but he’s physically incapable

ᝰ so what he does is murmur a few comforting words then take you out on a boat ride

ᝰ because of course he has a miniature yacht on call

ᝰ “you can relax, take your mind off everything. i’ll take care of things, don’t worry.”

ᝰ the rest of the day is spent the two of you cuddled together, looking out over the water

ᝰ he doesn’t say anything

ᝰ he feels bad because he doesn’t know how to help you sort through your emotions

ᝰ because god knows he can’t

ᝰ so instead, he spends every waking moment with you, at your beck and call

ᝰ regardless, he’d do anything for you

ᝰ incident or not

ᝰ he listens to you when you talk, of course

ᝰ he just can’t give you any sound advice

ᝰ the nights on the boat, when you’re at your most vulnerable, he makes sure you fall asleep before he does

ᝰ so that he can kiss you to sleep

ᝰ and make sure you fall asleep soundly, feeling safe

ᝰ he’ll never be happy unless you’re happy

Shiv

ᝰ she notices something’s wrong, but doesn’t say anything at first

ᝰ when you don’t come to her at all and instead stay holed up in your room, that’s when she knows something is really wrong

ᝰ she crawls up onto the bed with you, and you feel her hands smooth up your back

ᝰ “what’s wrong? tell me.”

ᝰ does not leave you alone until you do

ᝰ listens intently

ᝰ literally memorizes what you’re saying so that she can help fix things

ᝰ the entire time you’re speaking, she massages at your skin to soothe you

ᝰ and it works

ᝰ thumbs away your tears when they fall

ᝰ she refuses to let you go through this alone

ᝰ she helps talk through your issues

ᝰ nonstop reassuring you that everything you’re feeling is perfectly valid

ᝰ and telling you that if you’re upset, she’s upset

ᝰ and that she’ll stop at nothing to make you happy again

ᝰ in all honesty, she’s extremely inexperienced with cooking and baking

ᝰ but she figures it out just for you

ᝰ she makes you a fudge with strawberries and raspberries frozen into it

ᝰ and it’s surprisingly really good

ᝰ your tears ease as the two of you eat together in bed

ᝰ you’re still sniffling when she gently urges you to lay your head in her lap

ᝰ even when you’re this upset, she’s utterly mesmerized by you

ᝰ your lips when you chew, your cheeks, the plush of your thighs as your pajama shorts hike up your legs

ᝰ “i know it’s hard, babe. i’m here. i’m not leaving.”

ᝰ and she doesn’t

ᝰ she’s at your side for the rest of both your lives

ᝰ she holds your hand through all of your difficulties

ᝰ she always listens, always helps you with your issues

ᝰ she’ll never, ever, let you suffer on your own

ᝰ she wishes she could take your pain from you

ᝰ you’re her sun and moon

Tom

ᝰ the personification of a massive teddy bear

ᝰ when you’re upset, he’s in SHAMBLES

ᝰ he swears he can feel your pain

ᝰ he soothes you every way he knows how

ᝰ he keeps you close, rubbing his hands up and down your sides

ᝰ he makes you your favorite meals

ᝰ refuses to let you do any chores

ᝰif it was a death, he organizes these massive baskets to be delivered to everyone affected

ᝰ and the biggest one goes to you

ᝰ it has all of your favorite sweets, a bouquet of beautiful flowers, a blanket

ᝰ and a love letter detailing how you’re the strongest person he knows

ᝰ and that he loves you more than anything

ᝰ of course, he gives you space if you ask for it

ᝰ but he’s always concerned for you anyway

ᝰ he gives you your time to recover while slowly helping you along

ᝰ after a couple weeks of leaving you be and taking care of you at home, he starts making you go out with him

ᝰ “we’re getting you used to things again.”

ᝰ he stays at your side through all of it

ᝰ will always let you vent to him

ᝰ and always does his best to give you advice and help you through your issues

ᝰ every night is spent the two of you chatting about your days

ᝰ making sure the other is really okay

ᝰ his arms are always warm

ᝰ your bed even more so

ᝰ he always makes sure you’re feeling warm and fuzzy

ᝰ he just loves you so much

ᝰ he’ll never let you go cold

Greg

ᝰ when you start freaking out, he also starts freaking out

ᝰ but he gets himself together

ᝰ because you’re a big deal to him

ᝰ and he loves you

ᝰ so he’ll do everything he can to help you

ᝰ in his own way, of course

ᝰ he honestly sucks at talking you through things

ᝰ but he listens to you

ᝰ he loves listening to you

ᝰ after you tell him what’s going on, he pulls you into his arms

ᝰ he just hugs you for a while

ᝰ he doesn’t let go until you do

ᝰ and you only do that to go to the bathroom

ᝰ when you come back, he has a favorite movie of yours pulled up on the tv

ᝰ “why don’t we watch? I think you could use the brain break. relaxing is good for you.”

ᝰ he keeps you pulled tight against him

ᝰ softly stroking your hair, your neck, your shoulder

ᝰ he’s just hoping your mood is shifting

ᝰ which it is

ᝰ he’s not the best with words

ᝰ and he’s not exactly sure if what he’s doing is helping

ᝰ but bottom line, you know he cares

ᝰ and he wants to help, needs to help you

ᝰ he spends the next few days doing his best to make you feel loved

ᝰ he makes you lunch to take with you to work

ᝰ he makes sure your favorite snacks are always stocked in the pantry

ᝰ always asks things along the lines of “do you want coffee? iced tea? I’ll make anything for you” even though he doesn’t know how to cook or bake anything

ᝰ but he figures it out

ᝰ because the only thing that makes him happy is you

ᝰ and he’ll fucking die if he sees you crying again and he can’t help you

ᝰ his world revolves around you

ᝰ and he loves it that way

Stewy

ᝰ honestly, you being so viscerally upset puts him off

ᝰ his world falls off balance

ᝰ demands you tell him everything

ᝰ keeps your face sandwiched between his hands as you talk

ᝰ his eyes never leave yours

ᝰ he nods, makes soothing noises

ᝰ “okay, here’s what we’ll do. we’re going to go have fun tonight.”

ᝰ he takes you out for dinner

ᝰ the entire night he’s just like eyeing you trying to see if you’re still upset

ᝰ in reality, he’s just a smooth talker

ᝰ he has no idea how to actually get serious

ᝰ so now his efforts are put into making you feel better

ᝰ when you pick at your food, he takes your hand

ᝰ and tries to be profound

ᝰ “I know I kind of suck at this whole handling things seriously thing, but I want you to know I’ll listen to anything- everything you have to say. I don’t… you’re not going through this alone, is what I’m trying to tell you.”

ᝰ it comes out really messy

ᝰ but it’s obvious he cares

ᝰ it’s obvious he loves you

ᝰ and that in of itself makes you feel leagues better

ᝰ you decide to walk off your dinner

ᝰ you both take a stroll, hand in hand, through the streets

ᝰ the night chill is strangely calming

ᝰ but you know that’s just stewy, not actually the chill that’s making you feel at ease

ᝰ “we can try stargazing tonight.”

ᝰ “stew, all I can see when I look up is smoke.”

ᝰ because you literally live in new york

ᝰ where rats live everywhere rent free

ᝰ “we’ll just have to drive out somewhere, then.”

ᝰ he actually does

ᝰ the two of you end up in a bit of a rural area sitting in the trunk of his car

ᝰ he spread out blankets and brought pillows and everything

ᝰ he even stopped at a gas station to get you both slushees

ᝰ in the gas station you both mixed flavors

ᝰ and he keeps stealing from you

ᝰ but it’s okay

ᝰ you’re leaning against him, his fingers are in your hair

ᝰ “I’m sorry I couldn’t help more.”

ᝰ “you’re helping me lots.”

ᝰ you give him a kiss

ᝰ “your lips are all blue, stewy.”

ᝰ “the blue raspberry is just really good…”

ᝰ you turn back to the stars

ᝰ but his eyes aren’t even on the stars anymore

ᝰ they’re on you

ᝰ and if he had it his way, they’d never leave you again

[angstywaifu]

The Lost Sister - Part 20

Synopsis: Xaden is known as an only child due to his sister who 'died' during the Rebellion. Little do they know she didn't die and has been so close this entire time.

Garrick Tavis x OC

The Lost Sister Masterlist | Masterlist

A/N: In this part I have used some Gaelic phrases to represent Tyrrish, as both Garrick and Ophelia can speak it. Mo grádh will translate to My Love. And on that note. Enjoy. Also poor Xaden. Warnings: 18+, Smut

Xaden had remained true to his word. For me at least. Liam was still assigned to Violet wherever she went. Which for the most part also meant me, but if I walked off elsewhere he stuck to her. I was glad Xaden had let me have the freedom I requested. Not that I wouldn’t have had freedom. But it would have meant Liam following me around.

But in his absence Garrick had fallen into place. Not as over bearing as Liam was with Violet. But outside of classes Garrick was always there with me. Which I couldn’t deny I liked. I liked it a lot. The night of me finding out about Aretia we had spent in Garrick’s room. And it had reminded me so much of our down time in Aretia. Us lying in his bed or mine. His head in my lap as I read a book or played with his hair as he slept. It had taken me back to a time where we didn’t have any cares or worries. It was something we both needed. And was something we had planned to do tonight, till Garrick had decided to move some of my stuff to his room. His argument was I would be spending most of my nights here unless he was away on a supply run. It just made things easier in his mind. So now I sat on his bed, sketch book in hand as I watched him try to rearrange his armoire and desk to accommodate some of my things. The man was too excited of the prospect of me essentially sharing a room with him from here on out. But it kept Xaden happy that someone was watching over me at night, and meant Liam could have more focus on protecting Violet who was still yet to manifest a signet. And has also received another threat from Barlowe today in sparring that had caused Liam to shove him out of the room entirely. Garrick’s mumbling pulls me from my drawing of my dragon Mealladh. I look up to see him looking in the armoire, scratching the back of his head. I place my sketch book on the bedside table and walk up behind him, my arms wrapping around him as I rest my head against his bare back. My fingers tracing lightly over the defined muscles of his stomach. His hands coming to rest over mine as he looks over his shoulder at me.

”You seem stressed.” I tell him.

He sighs. “It’s because I am.”

I can’t help but laugh at him. “It’s just some space in the armoire, space you don’t even need to find. I can keep my stuff in my room.” I tell him.

I feel Garrick stiffen in my arms, turning to face me as his hands find their place on my waist. “I do need to find it. I want to find the space. I’ll make it work.” He tells me sternly.

This man was way too intent on making this a space for both of us. But it wasn’t something new for us. Back before the rebellion, we had started to leave things at each others places. It had been frequent that we would stay at each others places, Xaden included. But this was on a more serious level than that. We hadn’t defined what we were yet. But we were more than friends now. We had taken that leap. But we hadn’t put a label on it. We didn’t need to. I was his, and he was mine.

”Well I’m sure it can wait till tomorrow I tell him.” With a smirk on my lips as my hands travel from his back to rest on his chest, one of them travelling down to toy with the band of the grey linen pants he had on. The only thing he had on.

I watch as his eyes darken, clearly picking up on the intent in my actions and words. Besides that night of threshing, we hadn’t had another chance. Mainly due to Garrick being away with supply runs. Which at the time I didn’t know about. And I knew Garrick was wanting this as much as I did. His lingering touches had hinted otherwise. I was surprised he hadn’t jumped on it earlier when I had stripped down to my underwear, and slipped on one of his black cotton shirts that was huge on me. His hands now find their way under that very shirt, gripping and massaging my sides as he kissed his way down my neck, lightly biting as he went. Leaving marks I definitely wouldn’t be able to hide. Bastard. Garrick’s hands slowly move down my sides as he kneels in front of me, his fingers hooking into the band of my underwear, quickly sliding them down my legs. I step out of them and he throws them to the other side of the room. His hands wander up my legs, so slow its almost torture. Especially as he moves them to my inner thighs, lightly ghosting over the sensitive flesh. I go to tell him to hurry up and stop teasing, but one of his strong hands grips my left knee, throwing the leg over his shoulder. I don’t have time to ask what he’s doing before his fingers slide up and down, coating them in my arousal. One of my hands reaching down and tugging on his curls as my head rolls back as a moan rolls off my lips. The bastard was taking his time, but I couldn’t deny I enjoyed it. And I knew what eventually would follow would be worth the wait. Each stroke sending a shiver through my body, that I knew would have him smirking. Finally his fingers slide lower, slowly pushing two of them in, followed my his mouth latching on to the bundle of nerves. My eyes fly open at the sensation, getting the full view of a very blissed out Garrick kneeling before me, taking pride in the pleasure he was giving me. Slowly he adds a third finger, stretching me out more. I nearly come undone then as he curls all three fingers inside me, hitting the perfect spot. My leg gives out, but Garrick’s arms keep me upright as he continues his assault. Just as I’m about to tip over the edge, the bastard stops. And I have no shame in not stopping the growl that leaves my mouth. Garrick smirks, bloody smirks up at me as he kisses the inside of the leg still hooked over his shoulder.

”Don’t worry mo ghrádh, I’m just getting started.” He tells me in a low tone as he stands, pulling the shirt over my head as he does so.

His fingers make quick work of my bra as it soon follows the rest of what I had been wearing to somewhere else in his room. His lips are quickly and roughly on mine as he walks me backwards to the bed. He goes to push me down but I quickly manoeuvre us, pushing him down onto the bed as I crawl up him and straddle his hips. Garrick’s eyes darken and widen as I slowly grind back and forth on him, a growl rumbling through him. I can tell it is taking everything in him not to completely take over and flip me onto the bed and take me. I can tell he is curious as to what I will do. I watch some of that control slip as he goes to grab my hips, but I move faster and line us up and slowly sink down to him. Garrick’s head falls back onto the bed. A loud moan echoing around the room.

“F-fucking hell.” Garrick stutters out as I start to move up and down.

His hands grip onto my hips, helping me up and down, his hips meeting my movement, hitting the almost perfect spot every time. Garrick must notice my legs shaking from the effort and flips my back onto the bed as he hooks one of my legs over his shoulder again as he leans forward. It was now my turn for profanities to fall from my lips at the new angle and pace. My pace had been fast, but Garrick’s was harder and faster. My nails dragging down his back, leaving marks yet again. Marks I knew last time had gotten him a few comments. Garrick reaches down with his fingers, and as soon as they meet that sensitive spot I’m done. My back arching off the bed, my eyes shutting as I moan his name. I swear I heard thunder or something similar in the back ground as I finish. As I come down from the high, Garrick picks up his pace again. Not faltering once. The bastard not even close to finishing or being done. He pushes my leg from his shoulder as he scoops me up into his arms and stands, walking over to the desk. He lifts me off him and places me on the ground before spinning me around to face the desk.

”Hands on the desk mo ghrádh.” He tells me as I feel him press against my hips.

I do as he says and lean forward, my hands bracing on the desk as I lean forward. As soon as he’s satisfied I’m comfortable Garrick pushes in slowly. And I know he’s doing it on purpose when I go to lean into it and his firm hands on my hips stop me. As he fully sheaths himself in me, he slowly moves back and forth at a pace that has soft moans escaping my lips. But clearly slowly is not what Garrick has planned, quickly picking up the pace again, forcing me to grip onto the side of the desk to stop me from falling forward. Garrick leans over me, his arms resting on the desk next to me. The new angle having me arching into him as we both moan at the sensation. The desk slams into the wall, and I pray Xaden isn’t in his room or Garrick put up the silencing wards. Seconds later Garrick and I finish almost at the same time, our names falling from each others lips. Garrick lowers himself to rest his elbows on the desk as he catches his breath. He places a soft kiss on my shoulder, before we both freeze at the voice yelling at us from the other side of the wall.

”What did I say about the silencing wards!” Part 21

Taglist: @riorgail @going-through-shit @fw-gt @bbkissme99 @xceafh @leptitlu @came-to-laugh-but-cried @onthewaytotimbuktu @daardyrnitta @lovemesomevesey @mxtokko

[angelbaby-fics]

Hi love, how are you! I haven’t been on tumblr much lately but I still love you and your work!! I’ve been dealing with some tough stuff with my health and have been little a lot more lately. Would you write Cg!Ransom as just turning into a melted fit of mush for the reader?Just like absolutely spoiling them and doing whatever they want when they don’t feel good?

Love,

🐣

Daddy's Day Off

Word Count: 750

A/N: Aww hello angel! I'm glad to hear from you again & I hope you're always doing alright 💕 eeep I love Ransom so much, especially in the cold months I just want to cling to him hehehe 💕

It was a busy day full of stressful meetings and Ransom was not at all pleased about it. As much as he loved being extravagantly rich, the people he had to deal with on a daily basis almost made it not worth it. Almost. One thought of you, your bright eyes and contagious smile, and Ransom was reminded that he’d go through hell just to make that happen. He checked the time on his phone, just an excuse to look at the background image really. It was a picture of you and him, a selfie he had taken while you were curled up with him on the couch - he smiled at the camera, but your loving gaze was locked on him. Every time he saw this picture it reminded him what he did it all for.

He couldn’t do it today though, he just couldn’t. You’d had a nightmare earlier, screaming yourself out of slumber in the wee hours of the morning. The rest of the night was spent with you curled up against his chest and him hardly sleeping, dutifully keeping watch on you to make sure you stayed at peace. It broke his heart to close you out of his home office that morning, your rejected face echoing through his head as he tried to focus on today’s planner entries. All he wanted was to be finished with this stupid workday and to spend the rest of it with you. Your love was the only thing that could relieve his stress after a long day of dealing with a bunch of a-holes. Yes, he needed his baby just as much as you needed him. 

To hell with it. Ransom sent a short email to his assistant to cancel all his meetings as he needed to take a personal day. With that, he shut his laptop and tossed his work phone into his desk drawer, nearly slamming it shut. He was so eager to get away from all this and just relax with you. When he opened his office door, he almost expected you to still be there looking up at him with tearful eyes, but like the brave and independent baby he’d raised you to be, you had already begun trying to distract yourself until Ransom was finished with work. 

You knew Ransom didn’t like distractions when he was in work-mode, so although you’d rather spend the day curled up with him just as you’d spent last night, you took it upon yourself to keep occupied. That’s how Ransom found you on the floor of the living room, the massive flatscreen tv playing a marathon of Bluey episodes above you. Every color of crayon was scattered all around you, a pile of already finished drawings stacked upon the coffee table. At the sound of Ransom’s heavy footsteps, your head shot up from your picture of a cat in a garden.

“Daddy, you finished already?” You asked hopefully.

“Daddy got a surprise day off, baby!” He replied, scooping you up into his arms. 

“What are we gonna do?” You asked, looking up at him with more love in your eyes than Ransom thought he deserved in his whole lifetime. 

“Anything you want, babydoll. I’m all yours.” Ransom carried you to the giant sofa, keeping you pressed against his firm chest as he swaddled the two of you together in a big plush throw blanket. 

He handed you the remote, happy to sit through any cartoon or cheesy musical if it meant making you happy. When he heard your tummy rumble after a while, Ransom grabbed the house phone and ordered your favorite pizza, without even needing to ask if you wanted it. He knew you better than he even knew himself. He helped you eat your pizza as you watched tv, something you rarely got to do at the same time. When you finished eating, he carried you to the kitchen to get you dessert and a bottle, not wanting to put you down for even a second.

Hours later, the credits on your second movie of the day were crawling across the screen, and Ransom was sure you were fast asleep, when suddenly he heard your tiny voice muffled through the blankets and his comfy thick sweater.

“Dada?” You asked, even smaller than you’d been this morning.

“What’s up, babydoll?” He whispered down to you.

“You gotta get a day off more often.” You mumbled, drifting into sleep.

“I will, baby. I will.”

[wilbursprincess]

Could you write a fic where the reader isn’t feeling well so Wilbur comes home from whatever he’s busy with to comfort you with snacks cuddles and watches your fav shows with you “ps don’t stress over the finer details I’m sure it’ll be great considering how great the rest of your work is”

“I’m Not Dying, Just Sick”

Wilbur Soot x Gender Neutral Reader

Warnings: Mentions of cold/flu symptoms (coughing, sore throat, fever, stuffy nose, and the like)

Another amazing ‘anonymous’ idea! I have written something similar before in my first bit of writing, which is some bonus content for y’all at the end :)

Fic below cut!

I groan, tossing the second empty tissue box of the day into the trash can by my feet, flopping back against the sofa with a sigh and a coughing fit. Of course, in the middle of cold and flu season, I hadn’t managed to avoid getting sick. I’d spent all day today and a good part of yesterday feeling sorry for myself, wrapped in blankets on my sofa and living off the soup Wilbur and his friends would periodically drop at my doorstep. As much as I’d like my boyfriend to be comforting me through this hell, him and the rest of the band were in the final days of finishing up their latest album, and I knew he was busy.

Before I can get up and get yet another box of tissues, I hear a knock at the front door, and struggle up from the sofa, wrapped in a blanket, to grab what I assume is another Tupperware of soup, but when I open the door, it’s much better than that.

“Oh my God,” Wilbur gasps, setting down the bag he’s carrying and wrapping me in a hug. “You look awful.”

I sniff. “I know. How’s the album going?”

He just shakes his head, ushering me into my house and guiding me back to the sofa. “That doesn’t matter. You’re sick!”

“I know,” I reply indignantly, gratefully catching the tissues he tosses at me and blowing my nose. “I thought you were busy.”

“How could I work on the album when my partner is coughing up a lung alone in their house?” Wilbur replies, taking my snotty tissue without so much as a wince and tossing it into the trash can. “I’m going to empty out the trash can and heat up some soup for you. Need anything else?”

I wince at the sharp pain in my throat as I speak again. “Maybe some tea and honey? My throat feels awful.”

“Coming right up,” he says, kissing me on the forehead and sighing. “You have a fever, too.”

When Wilbur gets back to the sofa, he’s carrying two steaming mugs and a bottle of cough syrup. “Thought a mug might be easier for you,” he says softly, setting everything down on the table. “Soup’s courtesy of my mum. When I told her you were sick, she drove it down for you.”

I cautiously take a sip, sighing with happiness as I taste it. “Mmm, just what I needed. She’s an amazing cook.”

He looks up from pouring some cough syrup into the measuring cup. “Aww, baby, I’m glad. Drink this, ok? It tastes awful, but it’ll help.”

After I wince down the cough syrup and wash it down with the rest of the soup, Wilbur ushers me upstairs to shower and put on fresh pajamas, and when I come back down, he’s turned my sofa into a nest of blankets, pillows, and stuffed animals, leaning back against the cushions and beckoning me into his arms.

“You don’t have to look after me, Will,” I murmur as he wraps me into his arms. “I’m not dying. Just sick.”

Wilbur smiles, brushing my hair off my sweaty forehead. “I know,” he says softly, letting me snuggle myself closer to his chest as he turns on the TV. “But I want to look after you, because I love you. And no offense, but you look a little pathetic.”

“Pathetic?”

“Mhm,” he nods. “Like a cat that fell into the bathtub. But a cute one.”

I giggle, sipping the tea and honey he hands me. “I can’t possibly be offended at that.”

We settle into a TV marathon, Wilbur gently playing with my hair and occasionally handing me tissues as I need them. It barely takes a full episode of my favorite show for me to start to drift off to sleep, the last thing I remember is laying in my boyfriend’s arms, wrapped in warmth and the soft feeling of love.

*Bonus content! This is from my first ever piece of writing, which was a self insert about Wilbur and I. Obviously, I took my name out of it, but otherwise it’s unedited!

Wilbur groans, rolling over in bed to grab the water glass on the nightstand. He winces at the sharp, raw pain in his throat as he attempts to gulp some down.

Wilbur pulls out his phone, starting to type out a Tweet. ‘Note to self, he types. ‘don’t ignore your girlfriend’s sore throat and snuggle with her anyway. We both have strep throat. No streams for at least a few days while we get our voices back.’ He posts the Tweet, and likes and comments of sympathies come rolling in almost immediately. He scrolls through a few of them, trying to distract himself from the pain in his throat.

“Will, how are you feeling?” Wilbur’s girlfriend walks into the room, holding two mugs and cradling a pill bottle against her chest. “I made soup for you, and you need to take some meds. They’ll help, I promise.”

He groans and sits up in bed. “Since when do you have the energy to make soup?” He takes the pill container and shakes two into his hand, swallowing them with a gulp of water and a wince.

“Being chronically ill means you get used to functioning like this,” she shrugs with a smile. “It’s lentil. I blended it so it won’t hurt as much when you swallow,” she says, handing him the mug.

Wilbur cautiously takes a small sip of soup, relaxing when he realises he can swallow without as much pain. “This is good, baby, thank you.” He manages to give her a small smile.

She gets back into bed, setting her mug on the nightstand. “I made myself some hot honey and lemon. My mom used to do that for me when I got sick as a kid.” She carefully picks up the mug, taking the world’s tiniest sip. “Ow. Hot.”

Wilbur smiles at her. “See, we’re adults. We can look after ourselves,” he says after managing another sip of soup.

“The last time I had strep, I was 17,” she laughs. “My mom was out of town and my dad wasn’t helpful at all, so I had to completely look after myself. I had to make myself soup, keep track of all my meds, all that.”

Wilbur snorts. “Your dad didn’t help at all? Are you serious?”

“Well, he drove me to the doctors and picked up my meds for me,” she says, shrugging after another sip from her mug. “He had to tell everyone that his wife normally did this and he didn’t know what was going on. My therapist called it ‘weaponised incompetence’.”

“I would’ve helped you,” Wilbur says affectionately, leaning over to kiss her on the forehead. “I would’ve even tried to make you soup.”

She snickers. “I can’t believe I got you sick too, Will. I still feel bad.”

When Wilbur walked into his living room a few days ago, his girlfriend was laying on the couch, complaining of a sore throat. He’d dismissed it as her singing too loudly at one of James’s gigs the day earlier, pulling her into his lap and kissing her before putting on a movie. They’d ended up not watching much of the movie, making out and cuddling instead. Little did either of them know that she had somehow gotten strep throat from somewhere, and Wilbur’s dismissal had gotten him sick, too.

“Don’t feel bad, baby,” he says affectionately. “This means we can cuddle all we want and not worry about getting each other sick.”

She smiles, leaning into his chest. “You’re right. We can just spend time together without worrying about anyone else or having to work.” She brushes his hair from his forehead, resting her hand on his forehead. “You still have a fever, by the way.”

Wilbur just laughs, pressing the back of his hand into her forehead. “You do too.”

[milawritesstuff]

We are going to need a part two of that pedri imagine

A/N: Here it is!!! Hope you like it!

For those of you who didn’t catch the first part, you can read it here!

•••

You left. Despite his pleading and tears you left. You needed to know if his words were more than just words. You had felt unwanted for so long that you weren’t sure he still wanted you around. Maybe he was just asking you to stay because he was used to you. Without looking back you grabbed your suitcase and walked out of the door.

-Please Y/N.- he yelled. But you didn’t turn around. His voice pained you but you needed to do this to make sure your relationship was still something both of you wanted.

You couldn’t go home to your family because you needed to work because now more than ever you needed your job. The taxi left you in front of Gavi’s house. Although he was Pedri’s friend you knew you could trust him. You rang the bell and he opened the door.

Before he could say anything you went into his arms and began to cry.

-I need to talk to him. He can’t act like this.- said Gavi.

-No, no. Please I don’t even want him to know I’m here.- you pleaded.

You spent that night just talking to Gavi and trying to ignore the dozens of messages being sent by Pedri. The next morning when you woke up Gavi had already left. You got ready for work and left as well. By the time you came back from work Gavi was already asleep. And this became a routine for a few days.

-Please come to the match.- said a text from Pedri that you received that weekend. As you were thinking of what to write he called.

-What?-

-Y/N please listen to me. I miss you. Please come home.- You didn’t know what to say. You sat there in Gavi’s living room.

-That’s never felt like my home, Pedri. I’ve always felt like I was just an unwanted guest. Good for you when you wanted to have a good time but other times I was just annoying you.-

-You know that’s not true.-

-You said you couldn’t stand me, Pedri.-

-I said that in the heat of the moment. I already told you I’ve been under so much stress.-

-And what’s going to happen next time you’re under stress Pedro? I’m going to get pushed to the side again?-

-Please come home.-

-Do you even love me, Pedro?-

For once in a few minutes there was silence in the call. Pedri couldn’t answer that as he had been answering everything else.

-Call me when you figure out if you do, Pedro. No I won’t be at your match today. Good luck.-

You ended the call and tears began to run down your face. You were glad Gavi had already left for the match because you didn’t want him to see you like this.

The next morning you woke up and heard Gavi cooking breakfast. You got out of bed and walked out of the guest bedroom to find him in the kitchen.

-Good afternoon sleeping beauty.- you rolled your eyes. -Is it that late.- he shook his head. -No I was just messing with you. But even if it was with that face you have I think you needed the extra sleep.- you laughed hoping he wouldn’t ask why your eyes were puffy.

Gavi asked you to sit down while he served you breakfast. He sat down in front of you. -So how was the match?- you asked him. He smirked. -Did you really not watch it?- You shook your head. -Not even for me?- he raised an eyebrow.

-I’ll eventually watch them for you Gavi but right now I don’t want to see him, even in TV.- the two of you sat there in silence for a few minutes until your phone began to ping and ping. You furrowed your brows and grabbed your phone which was facing down on the table.

You saw that a lot of notifications from Instagram were coming up of people mentioning you. You didn’t know what was happening. You quickly touched on one notification and you felt your heart drop to your stomach.

There was a picture of Pedri after the game leaving with a girl in his car. There was another picture of him coming out of a restaurant with the same girl with his arms around her and kissing her.

-Hijo de puta.- you yelled as you threw your phone across the room. Gavi quickly stood up and managed to grab you as you fell to the ground. You began to cry feeling as your heart was shattered into pieces. He laid on the floor with you in his arms asking what was wrong as you cried.

Eventually Gavi began to get notifications as well and he didn’t know what to say.

-How could he do this?- you asked. -He just called me yesterday to tell me to come home.- Gavi was silent.

-I asked if he loved me Gavi and he couldn’t answer me.- you said in between tears. Gavi hugged you and left a small kiss on your head.

-He didn’t look fine at all at the game Y/N. Maybe he wasn’t thinking my right.- Gavi said about his friend.

-He’s never thinking right Gavi. He’s under stress. He has a million excuses to treat me like shit.- you spat back.

Gavi sat there looking at you. -If he doesn’t love you, you know who does?- his light brown eyes wide open in front of you. He bit his bottom lip nervously.

-Who?- you managed to ask.

-I’ve loved you for years. I hate seeing how he treats you, you deserve better. I can give you better. I’m tired of trying to cover up for him and let him treat you like this.-

Before you could say anything Gavi attacked your lips. You fell back as he placed a hand behind your head and another on your jaw. The kiss stopped and you both stepped back.

-I’m not asking for much, just please give me a chance to show you what you deserve.- he said.

[temptingfatetakingnames]

The Last Steve Harrington Part 15

AO3 Part 1 Part 14

Steve woke up Friday morning feeling fully recovered. He had spent the last few days with aching muscles so it was a huge relief to get out of bed without pain. He was glad because they were having a barbecue tonight to send off Johnathan, Argyle and Nancy who were heading back to the city tomorrow. Nancy was out of school for the summer but Johnathan needed to get back to his business and Argyle only had so much time off from his job.

He and Johnathan hadn’t got too close while he was home. Steve was hesitant to reach out and the feeling seemed mutual. They talked a bit about his photography business and Steve told him about Family Video. Mostly they talked about how much customer service sucked and how crazy people’s demands were. Steve didn’t mind that they hadn’t managed to bridge the distance between them. He was still overwhelmed with the kids, Robin, Eddie, Hopper and Joyce. Him and Nancy were… okay – parting on good terms at the very least. They would have time to get to know each other better.  

Inhaling deep, he let the breath out slowly.

He had time.  

Joyce was already busy in the kitchen when Steve walked downstairs. Johnathan and Argyle were probably still sleeping and he figured Hopper had already left for work. Will and Eleven were eating cereal like little zombies at the table. They both looked up, cheeks full, and smiled as he sat down. He had been really excited to tell everyone about Stephanie and the parallel universe he had learned about but had promised Robin he wouldn’t say anything without her, so he had been waiting. Patiently. Very patiently waiting. He couldn’t wait to see Dustin and Eddie’s faces.

“Morning, Steve,” Joyce said as she turned around, wiping her hands on a towel. “How are you feeling?”

“Really good actually. All better.”

She came over and settled a gentle hand on his shoulder. “I’m glad! But take it easy still, hmm?”

Steve nodded and looked away from her kind eyes, reaching for the cereal box. She patted his shoulder and moved back to the kitchen counter where various vegetables were waiting to be chopped.

“What’re you two up to today?” Steve asked the kids.

“Shopping with Max. I want a new dress for the party tonight.”

“I’m helping Dustin with Cerebro.”

“Sounds fun,” he said and smiled at them.

They both nodded and went back to shoveling cereal into their faces as fast possible.

“Bye!” Eleven shouted as soon as she finished drinking the sweetened milk from her bowl.

“See ya later!” Will said as he scraped his chair back from the table and ran out.

Then it was just him and Joyce. He looked over at her furiously chopping vegetables and could tell that she was stressed. There was going to be a lot of people coming over and she probably had a lot she needed to get done before they arrived.

“I’m gunna shower and then I’ll help you get ready.”

She looked over her shoulder at him. “Oh, I’m fine! You should rest.”

“I’ve rested enough. Let me help, Joyce. Please.”

She set her knife down and turned fully towards him. Her hair was a little wild and her eyes were tired. She worked too hard. He didn’t know what she saw on his face that made her relent but she softened and said, “that would be great. Thank you.”  

He nodded and noticed a small smile on her face as she turned back to her vegetables.  

On his way to the bathroom, he grabbed a towel out of the linen closet. He hung it up and turned on the water before he looked at himself in the mirror, his good mood disappearing in a flash. He hated his reflection. It was difficult to meet his eyes, but he forced himself, bringing his face closer and closer to the glass until he could see every detail. He never knew how much people saw Steve or saw him. He hated it.

“Fuck you, Steve.”

Stepping back, he removed his clothes and took in the ruin of his chest next. His wounds had healed but it still hurt to look at them. He ran his fingers lightly over the raised and jagged marks on his side. Most of them looked better, whatever the doctors had done to clean them up had worked but… Not these. There had been nothing they could do for these. Too much had been bitten away… and too much time had passed.

A reminder that not everything could be made better or wiped clean. That some things just stayed…jagged. Broken. Ugly.

Turning away from the mirror, he quickly stepped into the shower, hoping the hot water would soothe away the awful pit in his stomach.

The rest of the morning and early afternoon were spent cooking with Joyce. He was quiet at first, still stewing in ugly thoughts, but she was slowly able to coax him out of it. She was just so damn happy, despite everything they had to get done and he found it hard to maintain his brooding in the face of her joy.

The kitchen was warm from the oven’s heat so they opened the windows to let in a lovely cross breeze. They talked a lot and laughed a little and moved around each other with a comfort that Steve had never experienced before. He and Max used to cook together sometimes, but her energy had been chaotic in the kitchen. She didn’t like to listen to instructions and Steve always had to clean up her messes, not that he had minded…much. He had missed cooking with someone else. He had missed cooking.

Johnathan and Argyle came down and had breakfast before they left as well, off to enjoy their last day in Hawkins.  

When they were finished making all the food that Joyce had planned Steve asked if it would be alright if he made chocolate chip cookies. He had perfected his recipe over the years and they were his favourite thing to bake.  

“Of course!” Joyce replied enthusiastically. “How did you learn to cook like this?”

As he gathered the necessary ingredients Steve explained, “my parents were gone a lot so I learned how when I was pretty young. Simple things at first, but I got better over the years.”

“What did you make?”

“So much pasta! Boil noodles and heat up some sauce? It was the easiest thing I could think of. It was a real game changer when I figured out the barbecue in high school.” Steve chuckled a little to himself. “I think I made burgers or hot dogs every meal for two weeks.”

Joyce didn’t laugh. “You were alone that much?” she asked instead.

He shrugged. “My dad was always gone on business trips and my mom went with him. I was fine, they always left plenty of money.”

As he started to whisk the dry ingredients together, he felt Joyce’s gentle touch on his shoulder.

“They shouldn’t have done that, Steve. I’m sorry you were alone.”

He blinked down at his bowl. It felt like such a long time ago now, living in that big empty house. He remembered the first time his parents left for a week at a time. He was thirteen and scared, but just like anything else – it got easier with time. And he wasn’t always alone. Freshman year, he met Nancy, Johnathan and Barb. Then the kids and Eddie and Wayne and Steve spent less and less time in that big empty house.

But… even with how full his life became with the family he chose there was still a hole in his heart from his parents. He didn’t think they were malicious or bad people… they just didn’t care. Too busy living their own lives to worry about his.

“No,” Steve agreed. “They shouldn’t have.”

Joyce gripped his shoulder tighter and he reached up to pat her hand.

After a moment, she slipped away and started tidying up the kitchen as Steve made his cookies, feeling that hole fill up a tiny bit more.

---

Max and Eleven came back first, but they disappeared upstairs with their bags after both exclaiming how delicious the house smelled. He and Joyce smiled at each other, nibbling on still warm cookies. Johnathan and Argyle arrived next, Nancy in tow. Joyce quickly put them to work setting up the tables and chairs outside. Hopper walked in the door with a loud exclamation of how long and tiring his day had been, leaving to shower just as Will called to say he was getting a ride with Dustin in a bit.

All of the cooking was done so Steve went back to his room to change. Opening the middle drawer on his dresser, he stared at the options. Joyce had taken him shopping the first week he moved in, getting him everything he could possibly need. Most days he didn’t give a shit about what he looked like… but today felt different. He wanted to look good.

He grabbed out a pair of jeans and the collared button up shirt that Joyce had insisted she get for him. It was dark blue and made of a light material that felt amazing on his skin when he slipped it on over his head. He tucked it into his jeans and cinched his belt as he moved into the bathroom. His hair looked good and healthy but he hadn’t tried to style it since –

Well, since everything.

He grabbed the hairspray Dustin gave him and got to work, trying to remember just how he used to make it look so effortless. It took longer than he would like to admit and it wasn’t exactly how it used to be, but it was close enough. Taking a deep breath, he stepped back and couldn’t quite believe his eyes.

He looked like –

Himself.

His skin was tanned from spending more time outside. The shirt showed off his arms, and the jeans hugged him in all the right places, and his hair fell perfectly, curling just a little onto his forehead. He looked…good. For a brief moment he considered ruining it – messing up his hair and taking off the nice clothes.

“Hello, Steve,” he said instead.

Joyce was back in the kitchen, wearing a red sundress, when he went downstairs. She was mixing cut up fruit and sprite into a large pitcher.

“Would you get the ice trays out of the freezer?” she asked as she looked over her shoulder. Her eyes widened when she saw him and she froze.

Steve clenched his jaw as she walked over to him, emotion filling her eyes as she racked her gaze over every inch of him. Her hands patted his shoulders, smoothing the fabric of his shirt.

“Oh, Steve,” she said with a watery smile. “You look great.”

The doorbell ringing saved him from having to respond, and he ducked out from beneath her hands and went to answer it.

Standing on the stoop was Robin and Eddie. He must have caught them having some kind of argument because Robin had her arm around Eddie’s neck and was in the process of hitting him in the stomach. They both froze as Steve opened the door and he fought back a sigh, taking in the two of them. Robin was wearing jean shorts, a nice summer blouse with a vest over top of it covered in buttons and a weird hat that was tilted sideways on her head. Eddie was decked in his usual attire of black jeans and a faded band t-shirt. Judas Priest, Steve could barely make out. They looked back at him, eyes wide and he hoped with his entire being that they wouldn’t comment on his appearance. He didn’t think he would survive the day if everyone looked at him like they had seen a ghost.

“Your hat looks funny.”

“It’s a beret, Steve.”

He blinked at her. “Your beret looks funny, Robs.”

She stuck her tongue out at him and released Eddie from her headlock.

“No Wayne?” Steve asked as they moved inside.

“He’ll be by in a bit. Wanted to drive himself so he didn’t have to wait for me and Robin.”

Steve nodded and they walked through the house to the back door. Johnathan, Nancy and Argyle had done a good job getting everything set up outside. Tables were lined up against the house, covered in the food that he and Joyce had spent the day cooking. A few umbrellas were scattered around with lawn chairs under them, offering a place to sit and hide from the sun and a stereo played music at a reasonable level.

Eleven came out of the back door in a light blue dress that ended just above her knees and had a white bow around the waist. It wasn’t what she usually wore, going for comfort and utility most days to keep up with the boys. Her hair was still short but she had curled it so it framed her face nicely and Steve could see a hint of makeup on her cheeks and lips. She was holding the pitcher of fruit punch, with Max just behind her holding the cups. She was wearing baggy shorts with a striped tank top. Her hair was long and wavy down her back and she had the same hint of makeup on as Eleven.

Everyone trickled in slowly over the next hour and the yard filled with the people who had been brought together by The Upside Down. There were a few awkward moments when he said hello and they took in his appearance for the first time, but they moved on quickly, probably noticing his discomfort. The gremlins fell on the food like ravenous little beasts, and conversations broke out in small groups. Hopper and Wayne were busy at the barbeque, talking about sports. Murray was with Joyce and Nancy, discussing his latest conspiracy theory. Eddie was trying (and failing) to convince Johnathan to change the music station. He was sitting with Robin under one of the umbrellas when Argyle came over.

“How are your feet, my dude?” he asked.

Robin quirked an eyebrow as a smile took over Steve’s face at the secret question.

“Still uncomfortable, but a little better every day.”

Argyle nodded and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Better every day is the best we could hope for.”

“You should get new shoes if they bother you that much,” Robin said looking at his very normal sneakers.

He and Argyle traded a glance before they burst out laughing.  

“You’re right, Robs,” Steve said, still smiling. “But they’re really not that bad.”

She pursed her lips at him but her eyes were soft. A large gust of wind blew through the backyard, causing laughter as paper plates were torn from unsuspecting hands, hair was whipped into faces and mouths, and hats were tossed off heads. Steve smiled, watching the pure chaos as everyone ran around trying to catch everything and put it back where it belonged.  

“That came out of nowhere! There hasn’t been any wind all day,” Robin said with a bit of laughter in her voice as she went to find her hat.

Sorry. Her beret.

Every time she got close, the wind would pick it up again and move it just beyond her reach. Steve watched her struggle for a moment before he went to help. The wind was still tossing things around and it proved especially difficult to pin down. After a few minutes, they were breathless and laughing as it continued to escape them. Robin had her hands on her knees, taking a rest as Steve ran half bent over so he could scoop it off the ground.

It came to a rest at Eddie’s feet and Steve skidded to a halt, falling back on his ass in an attempt not to tackle the other man. He looked up from his position on the ground to see Eddie haloed in sunlight and beaming a dimpled smile down at him, holding out a hand to help him up.

Pretty, Steve thought and felt his cheeks warm. He shook his head quickly and grabbed Eddie’s hand, letting him haul him back to his feet. Once he was up, Eddie bent back down to grab Robin’s beret and Steve rubbed at the back of his neck in embarrassment. Hoping Eddie didn’t notice the redness in his cheeks.

“I can understand Robin having a hard time catching this, but not you,” Eddie said to him with a smirk. “That was painful to watch.”

“I heard that!” Robin said as she came up on Steve’s side, reaching out to grab her beret out of Eddie’s hand and angrily positioning it back on her head.

“That was crazy, it felt like the wind was out to get us.”  

Eddie snorted and a targeted gust whipped his hair wildly into his face and he spluttered as a bunch of it went into his eyes and mouth. Steve and Robin laughed maniacally as he attempted to get it under control again.

“Told you!” Steve said, still chuckling.

Eddie squinted at them, holding all his hair in his hands. As suddenly as it came, the wind disappeared, creating a moment of stillness and silence. Johnathan, Nancy, and Argyle came over to chat about their trip back to the city and Steve settled back a little to listen. He could tell that they were all going to miss each other and that it had been a long time since they had all got together like this. Like a family.

He couldn’t help but wonder about the parallel universes out there – If they were all having a backyard good-bye party too – and if they were… how different it felt because he wasn’t there. Which brought his thoughts to the Eleven’s he had met and if they were just then telling everyone about him – passing on his message.

He couldn’t wait anymore. Robin was beside him and he gave her a little nudge and raised his eyebrow in question when she turned to look at him. She caught on to what he was asking and nodded excitedly.

“I had another Eleven visit,” he began, loud enough for everyone to hear. “Who told me about a very different universe from ours.” Conversations drifted off as they all came closer to listen.

“Most of the Eleven’s I’ve met have all been pretty similar, but this one – ” he trailed off, letting the suspense build.  “Well, he showed up at Family Video when me and Robin were working.”

“He?” Hopper asked with surprise.

Steve and Robin nodded and everyone’s eyes widened.

“And he wasn’t the only one who was different. Their Robin is a boy named Rob and their Steve was a girl named Stephanie.”

“Wait… so, we were all – ?” Dustin started and then coughed. “Opposite genders?”

“Yup!” Robin replied with a pop.

Their minds were as blown as Steve was expecting. They all started talking at once, asking about their alternate selves and their names. He and Robin made them guess, just like Eleven had. Most were easy – Max, Mike and Erica figured theirs out right away. Some took longer than others and by the end there were only three names they couldn’t figure out – Dustin, Wayne, and Eddie, as predicted.

“There is no female equivalent to Dustin! It has to be an entirely different name,” Dustin reasoned.

“Almost every name we’ve figured out has followed the same pattern. There must be a girl’s name starting with a D that we haven’t tried yet,” Will replied firmly.

“Argyle was Gayle though,” Nancy said. “Maybe there isn’t a pattern.”

“Daisy!” Joyce suddenly guessed.

“My alternate mom, or dad I guess, better not have named me Daisy…” Dustin muttered.

“Winnie!” Murray suddenly called out from the side, pointing at Wayne.

“Correct!” Robin yelled like they were playing a game show.

“Oh, Aunt Winnie!” Eddie said and draped himself across Wayne in a dramatic fall as his uncle rolled his eyes.

They all continued to guess girls’ names that started with D and E, but they were quickly running out of ideas.

“Dus-tin, Dus-tin,” Erica was quietly repeating to herself. “Tin. Tina. Tina?”

“Yes!” Steve exclaimed with a smile, only a little surprised that she had managed to figure it out.

“Tina!?” Dustin spluttered.

Lucas nudged him in the shoulder playfully and Mike bellowed out a laugh.

“Shut it, Michelle.”

“You shut it, Tina!”

Steve immediately regretted giving the kids this ammunition to use against each other. He knew that Michelle, Tina, Willa, and Laura were going to be hurled around as insults for the foreseeable future. They all quickly turned back to trying to guess Eddie’s name, going through all the same options as Steve and Robin had tried a week ago.

Robin looked over at him and he nodded, they weren’t going to get it. Even though Gayle and Tina didn’t follow the letter pattern, those names still had some connection to the originals. Lucy Munson just had to be different, just like Eddie Munson, Steve thought.

“It’s Lucy!” Robin exclaimed.

“Lucy!?” Dustin repeated. “That doesn’t make any sense at all!”

“That’s what we said,” Robin and Steve said at the same time.

Eddie had gone eerily quiet beside them. Steve hoped he wasn’t self-conscious about the name, Steve thought it was pretty.

“Who doesn’t love Lucy?” Eddie said with a sudden grin.

“Better than Tina,” Dustin muttered and everyone laughed.

---

The whole day had been so good.

The sun had shone brightly and there was delicious food and laughter and Steve joined in like he would have before and it was… good. Easy. He felt like himself again. When he finally went to bed that night, it was with a lingering smile on his face.

But –

He really should have known better.

Part 16

@just-a-tiny-void @mx-jinxous @child-of-cthulhu @awholedamnmesstbh @phoenix0bird @bookworm0690 @estrellami-1 @a-gae-af-racoon @nailbatandfreak @novelnovella @meela86 @lenathegay @vampireinthesun @penny00dreadful @questionablequeeries @espressopatronum454 @r0binscript @seths-rogens @fruity-nerd @sani-86 @n0-1-important @swimmingbirdrunningrock @ellietheasexylibrarian @manda-panda-monium @paintsplatteredandimperfect @viridianphtalo @goodolefashionedloverboi @13catastrophic-blues @newtstabber @queenie-ofthe-void @tinytalkingtina @hbyrde36 @whole-moods

- So sorry for the delay on this one! -Bit of cliffhanger here, I hope the next chapter wont take me as long - I do have a good portion of it written up already and HOOO BOY. -As always, please tell me your thoughts and feelings! I love hearing from you all!

[edosianorchids901]

Drifting With Every Wind

Ace Omens Hugfest 2024 prompt - "smiling into a hug"

Athens, 450 BC

Aziraphale looked around anxiously, twisting his hands together. His heart beat far too quickly, and he couldn’t quite catch his breath. No matter what he did, he simply couldn’t calm down.

And all the worse because there was no clear reason for it. He was simply a nervous wreck, quite close to the verge of a panic attack.

He went for another walk around the agora, trying to steady himself by studying the wares for sale. Ordinarily, that would cheer him up immensely. He loved to see the latest imports, as well as the local goods, and he’d spent many a long day contemplating the scrolls of poetry for sale.

Today, not even the thought of new reading material cheered him. He briefly contemplated a nice snack, but not even oysters or yummy bread or grapes seemed appealing right now. His tummy churned at the mere though, queasiness rising, and he let out a shaky breath. No, no snacks, not unless he wanted to be sick in front of everyone.

The thought of that made him feel even worse. Oh Heavens, what if he really did throw up in front of everyone? They would all make fun of him, understandably so, and then he would cry, and then they would make fun of him even more—

“Aziraphale, are you okay? Sounds like you’re trying to win the Olympic sport for breathing too fast.”

Aziraphale’s breaths caught, which had the effect of making him suddenly quite dizzy. He whipped around anyway, towards the demon with a perpetual questioning expression. “Crawley! Oh, I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you!”

He flung himself into Crawley’s arms, hugging him tight. A smile broke out even as he squeezed his eyes shut against tears. Oh, it was so good to see someone he knew, someone who never made fun of him in earnest.

“Whoa! Uh, hi.” A little awkward, Crawley patted his back. “Glad I showed up when I did. You looked like you were freaking out pretty bad.”

“Don’t be silly. Angels don’t ‘freak out’.” A few tears escaped, and Aziraphale clung to Crawley as a wave of shivering rushed through him. “Admittedly, I-I was having a trace of anxiety.”

Oh. He likely shouldn’t be hugging Crawley for this long. It wasn’t something they did.

He let go and stepped back, quickly dashing away the tears with one hand. Crawley gave him another quizzical look. “Just a trace, eh?”

“Mhm.” Aziraphale touched a hand to his chest, and was rather annoyed to find himself trembling. Oh, really. This was ridiculous. “Whatever are you doing here, anyway?”

“Buying wine, to start.” Crawley looked around the agora. “I stopped in at a tavern in the Piraeus after my ship docked, but I need to get a jug or two to shove in my room. Wanna go shopping with me?”

“Oh, could I?” The thought eased a great deal of Aziraphale’s nervousness, and the pressure on his chest lessened. “That would be so lovely. I’m afraid I’ve been feeling a bit…”

He sighed. Oh, it was so hard to put into words, especially when he had absolutely no idea why he was so stressed.

Crawley just gave a little sympathetic pout and beckoned to him. “C’mon. We’ll go buy stuff, and you can help me carry it back to my place.”

Quite grateful, Aziraphale accompanied him. He rolled his eyes at Crawley’s rather bad attempts to barter with the vendors, sighed when Crawley got distracted from shopping by a need to sample his wine, and chuckled when a wandering goat attempted to eat Crawley’s sandal. It was quite a nice way to get his mind off his own worries.

“Right, okay. So.” As they veered down a narrow dusty street, Crawley passed him another jug of wine and opened the door to a little house. Aziraphale struggled to adjust without dropping anything. “I’m staying here for now. It’s not exactly the most terrific part of town, but it was cheap, and Hell’s been nitpicking my expense reports.”

“Ah, of course.” Aziraphale clutched at one of the jugs of wine, trying to steady it as it slipped from his grip. “But naturally, you had to purchase a vast quantity of— oh no!”

He lost his hold on the jug, and he could only watch in horror as it plummeted towards the street. Oh, and Crawley would be angry at him, and then Aziraphale would cry because Crawley was angry at him, and then—

“Whoops, my bad.” Crawley grabbed the jug before it could hit the ground. “You wanna come in and have a glass?”

Aziraphale stared at him, lip trembling. “You… you’re not angry with me for dropping it?”

“Wot? No? I’m the one who handed it to you without making sure you had a good hold on it.” Crawley shouldered inside and set the jug down, then took the other two that Aziraphale was still carrying. “Why would I be angry with you?”

“Because… because I always fail at everything?” Tears welled again, and Aziraphale suddenly found himself unable to breathe. “G-Gabriel said…”

“Ohhhhhh. Okay. I get it.” With a soft hiss, Crawley stepped closer and took Aziraphale’s arms in a surprisingly gentle grip. Aziraphale looked at him in confusion. “I’m not like the Archangels, Aziraphale. You don’t have to measure up to impossible standards or some shit, not when you’re with me. Okay?”

“Well, the… the Archangels are good, and just, and everything.” Aziraphale cleared his throat, trying not to see Crawley’s skeptical look. “But thank you. I, um. Admit that I get more than a trace anxious sometimes.”

“Yeah, I kinda got that.” Crawley gave a kind smile, then jerked his head towards a cushioned couch. “I sprang for the good couch. Come on. Let’s go sit.”

“Oh, um. Yes, that would be lovely. But…” Swallowing hard, Aziraphale searched the demon’s face. Crawley gave him an inquisitive look. “Could I by any chance hug you again?”

“Oh! Sure.” Looking slightly embarrassed at the prospect, Crawley opened his arms.

Aziraphale stepped into the embrace, closing his eyes. He smiled again as Crawley hugged him close, his heartbeat slowing. Here, with his friend, his anxiety eased until it really was only a trace.

[destinedfordiaperstories]

Sammy’s Little Problem, Chapter 14

Chapter Thirteen here.

Alyssa laid in bed, procrastinating. Today was going to be a long, emotional day. There was no way around it.

Today would be the start of Sammy’s new life. Her first day truly living as the Level Two Little she was. Alyssa would no longer allow Sammy the privileges and responsibilities she’d been enjoying the last few days. It was time.

Alyssa spent the next few minutes writing out the checklist for today. Not that she needed it, but writing it all out was the perfect distraction. The list contained all the basics: diapers, a diaper bag, a baby monitor, pacifiers, onesies and dresses, sippy cups, toys, a changing table, a new crib, and, of course, the car seat.

Mostly, Alyssa was avoiding grappling her most pressing concern: how she was going to break the news to Sammy. Should she wake her up and lay her cards on the table, telling Sammy she would now be strictly treated as a Level Two Little? Or she should she just treat her as one?

She couldn’t decide, so she went downstairs to make breakfast. She was craving breakfast burritos. Burritos are the balm for so many ails: hangovers, late-night munchies, and in this case, stress and anxiety.

She got to work setting everything up. She’s get everything ready to start cooking before she woke up Sammy. Cooking always calmed her anyway. It was almost meditative. But soon she had no more prep left to finish. It was time to wake up Sammy.

“Good morning, Sammy,” Alyssa cooed, gently nudging Sammy’s back, “time to wake up, sleepyhead.”

“Wh-where am I,” Sammy said confused.

“Back in bed, silly. You fell asleep watching the movie.”

Sammy felt strange knowing she had not only fallen asleep during the movie, but didn’t even wake up at all going from Alyssa’s parents house to her bed. It made her feel like the Little she was.

“Oh,” Sammy says flatly, “I don’t even remember leaving.”

“You were out like a light. Did you have fun?”

“Yeah, it was great!” Sammy replied, “I needed that!”

“Well I’m glad, Sammy. You want some breakfast burritos? I got them ready to go downstairs?”

“Absolutely, I do.”

“But first things first, Sammy,” Alyssa says as she moves the covers off Sammy and checks her diaper, “you need a new diaper, little one.”

Sammy flinched slightly hearing “little one.” Alyssa had never called her that before. It felt strange, infantilizing. But she decided to ignore it. “Okay, Allie.”

Alyssa got to work on Sammy’s diaper. “This will be so much easier once we get you a changing table.”

Sammy’s face flushed. “Are we going to Littles’R’Us today, Allie?”

“Yes we are, Sammy. Can’t put it off any longer. But first, its breakfast!” Alyssa says as she finishes taping up Sammy’s diaper.

Sammy gets up, looking around for her shorts. Alyssa notices. “Don’t worry, Sammy. Let’s just get breakfast, it’s not like I don’t know you’re wearing a diaper.

For a second, Sammy looked like she wanted to argue, but thought better of it, following Alyssa downstairs.

As they ate breakfast, Sammy looked up at Alyssa, something on her mind. “A-Allie, remember when we said we could go to any store and get anything I wanted?”

“I do, Sammy, what do you have in mind?”

“Well, I was thinking, maybe…maybe we could get a puppy? I always wanted a golden retriever and you said I could have anything I wanted.”

That wasn’t what Alyssa expected. She thought Sammy would want an expensive toy or something. Not a puppy. She kicked herself for not being more specific, Sammy may be a Little, but she wasn’t dumb. But maybe, she thought, it would be exactly what she needed to make her transition easier.

“I don’t know, Sammy. Puppies are a lot of work. I already have a lot on my plate taking care of you. Would you promise to help me take care of it?”

“I will, Allie! I promise! I’ll take extra special care of it, you’ll see!”

Alyssa shrugged. She did always want to get a golden retriever, but not so early in Sammy’s transition. It would help Sammy get through today though.

“I’ll tell you what, Sammy. If you can get through today, and behave the entire time, we can go to the pet store in a few days to get one. How does that sound?”

“YAYYY!!” Sammy squeals, “thank you, Allie! I promise I’ll be good!”

“Don’t thank me yet, Sammy, you’re the one who will have to pick up its poops!”

“I don’t mind, Allie!”

“Well, we’ll see, Sammy. For now we need to get you ready. I’ll start the bath while you think of names!”

“A…bath? Why can’t I take a shower, Allie?”

“I don’t think it’s wise to leave you alone to do that, Sammy. But baths are just as fun!”

Sammy looked mutinous. A bath sounded horrible to her. She was about to argue her case before she remembered her new puppy. She decided to allow Allie to give her bath to keep her happy. She could fight this battle after she got her puppy.

Alyssa smiled. The puppy would be a lot of work, but for now at least it would make getting through today easier. She turned on the bath, letting the water run over her fingers until it was the right temperature. Once it was, she plugged the drain.

“Okay, Sammy. Let’s get you ready for the bath.”

Of all the embarrassing things to happen to Sammy, this felt like the worst. Sammy knew she could do all of this herself, run the bath, remove her clothes, get into the bath. Yet Allie insisted she help her to do. She felt so…little. So helpless.

The thought that this would be her life from now one filled her eyes with tears as Allie helped her into the bath. She realized she would forever lose any shred of dignity and privacy she ever had.

“Oh, Sammy,” Allie cooed as she noticed Sammy’s tears, “don’t cry. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about! What’s wrong?”

Sobs erupted from Sammy. “I-I-I just r-realized how I’d n-never have any privacy again. I’ll just be your h-helpless L-little f-forever.”

For the first time, Alyssa had no idea how to respond. Everything Sammy said was true. What could she possibly say to Sammy? How could she look her in the eyes and tell her she was right?

Alyssa took a deep breathe. “You’re right, Sammy. It will be my job to help you with these things for the rest of my life. You will lose a lot of the privacy you used to have. I won’t lie to you.”

“But I promise you this. I will do everything in my power to treat you with all the dignity and respect as I can. Of course I will still  check and change your diapers, bath you, put you in the car seat. But I will never forget who you are. You’ll never be just a Little to me, a toddler who’s only a few years old. I’ll always respect you as the Sammy that was accepted to Stanford, who I saw grow up with Lindsay, who was just as much of a little sister to me as Lindsay. Okay?”

“Just because its my job to care for you, it doesn’t make me—not even for a second—think less of you. To be honest, I don’t know if I’ve ever respected you more. It takes a strong person to handle this as maturely as you. But the reality is you are a Little—my Little. I am your Caregiver. I love you more than you can ever understand. I will prove it to you my entire life. You hear me?”

Sammy took a few seconds to think everything over. She hated how much she was losing. She hated being a Little. But, even Sammy had to admit, she was glad that if she had to be a Little, she was glad she was Allie’s Little.

“I love you too, Allie,” Sammy sniffled, “I’m really glad I have you. It’s just…a lot.”

“I understand, Sammy,” Allie echoed, “it is a lot. But you can talk to me about anything, okay? You don’t need to hold it all in. I’m here for you, okay?”

“Okay, Allie.”

“Now, I think you’re as clean as you’re gonna get,” Allie said as she grabbed a towel for Sammy, “let’s get you all dry.”

Once Sammy is dry and in a new diaper, Allie picks out some clothes for Sammy. “I want you to wear some clothes that are easy to change. We’re going to be trying on a bunch of clothes today, so I don’t want to make it harder on ourselves.”

“B-but Allie, this skirt makes my diaper look so poofy, can’t I wear something else?”

“Sammy, honey, I know it’s not the best, but we are going to Littles’R’Us. Do you think anyone there will judge you for that?”

“I guess not,” Sammy huffs.

As they head to the car, Sammy walks to the front passenger seat. “I’m sorry, Sammy, but I think it’s best you sit in the back seat. It’s a bit safer.”

Sammy goes to the back, dejected. She silently pouts all the way to Littles’R’Us.

Go to Chapter Fifteen.

[startanewdream]

#7 - MERCY, for April AU @jilymicrofics

Theme: Grey's Anatomy. Rated M just to be safe.

“You should know,” he mumbles, voice smooth, barely recovered, “I don’t usually do this.”

Lily wonders what this is exactly. Meet a girl in a bar, share a few rounds of drinks with her? Distract that girl from all her worries until they are laughing together? Pull her to the darkened hallway that leads to the kitchens to kiss her as if they were teenagers? Accept her daring invitation to go to her place? Take her clothes slowly, his lips tracing every curve of her body until she is moaning into his arms, begging for more? Or press his body against hers, kiss her as they roll around in bed, whisper her name as she moves atop of him, watch her as she comes apart until he follows her to that bliss?

Whatever this is, Lily is quite glad for it; he is the perfect distraction for all the stress of tomorrow and because she needed this, she turns to face him. Her heart skips a beat; the first thing she noticed about him that night was that he was handsome, with those hazel eyes shining smartly behind the lens of his glasses, a smile that showed dimples at the corner of his mouth, his tan skin, his carefree way.

Sure, it had been his talk—and later his kissing abilities—that made her invite him out eventually, but his beauty was not to be disregarded.

“Don’t tell me I was your first,” she teases, and he cracks a laughing smile.

“No,” he admits. His gaze moves over her face and she sees the moment his pupils contract. “But I wouldn’t mind if this was the first of the night.”

She shouldn’t; she has a busy day tomorrow, so Lily should just ask him politely to leave, but then she can feel the twitch of his body, his desire for her, and that makes her feel warm; she should be spent by now, but if he can do that thing with his fingers once again—she could use more distraction. So she pulls herself closer to him, searching for lips—any trace of the tequila they've drunk is gone, but she enjoys his taste even more.

"I want you," she whispers against his lips.

He is all too glad to attender her wishes; her whole world spins around and she isn’t sure that it is in the right place later, when he pulls her into his arms and she accepts, melting into his warmth and just closing her eyes, very content, very relaxed—

Until her alarm rings off and she jumps out of the bed to find out it’s morning already, the sun shining.

“Damn.” She glances at her phone. She missed the first and the second alarms, this is the third one, for emergencies—and this is one. “Fuck, not today—”

“Lily?” From the bed, comes a sleepy voice. Lily steals a glance at him while she runs around the room for her clothes.

He is handsome, but she cannot dwell with that now. “I’m sorry, you’ve got to leave,” she says, already distracted. She should take a shower, but it’s fifteen minutes to the hospital, and if she takes more than five minutes to find a parking spot… shower later.

He just turns around to face her. “I thought we could share a breakfast.”

“No, I’m late.”

“I can give you a ride if—”

“No.” She wishes she had more time to do it; he said he didn’t do this usually, and now Lily is reconsidering a bit—maybe he is one of those guys who are after the love of their life in a pub… “Look, this was a one-night thing, ok? I had a great time, but you need to leave, John.”

“Oh.” He looks disappointed. Definitely the kind of guy who falls too quickly. “It’s James.”

She knows, but mistaking the name always works perfectly for the guy to get a hint, and this time is not different.

“I’m going then—”

Lily nods, throwing him a smile that she hopes to come as nice and yet dismissive. It works, for when she leaves the bathroom, he isn’t there. There is only the faint scent of his cologne, something musky and rather nice, and for a moment Lily almost wishes she could have gotten his number or—

No, she admonishes herself, leaving the house. It would give him the right idea. I am not looking for a relationship now. It’s better if we don’t see each other.

That’s a thought that she has to repeat when she parks her car; the Three Broomsticks pub, where they met, is right in front of the hospital. Lily makes a mental note to suggest that any happy hour be somewhere else and joins the new interns inside the hospital.

She is calm — she is competent and she knows how hard she worked to get there; the minutes goes by though, and while the other interns have been directed, Lily finds herself in a group of four interns waiting. One of the other residents, a rather handsome man with a haught smile that made some people sigh, comes to tell them that their resident is running a bit late but will be there soon.

“Prongs says he overslept,” she hears him telling one of the new interns in Lily’s group, a nervous-looking guy.

They already know each other, Lily realises, whoever that resident “Prongs” is. It’s a bit unfair, but she has dealt with unfairness before—

And then, breathing hardily and in a rush, appears the man that Lily saw last on her bed that morning.

“Hello,” he calls, adjusting his glasses on his face. “Sorry for the delay—I’m James Potter, and I’ll be your resident for—”

His voice fails; Lily finds herself meeting the same pair of hazel eyes that charmed her last night, but that she also believed she wouldn’t see again. Resident, he said. James, just-a-distraction James, I-won't-see-him-again James, is her resident.

“Ah,” He looks away, recovering himself. “Anyway—welcome to Hogsmeade Mercy Hospital.”

[wambsgansshoelaces]

you cheered my bedt friend up and now I love u forever

may i request some academic validation obsessed shiv hcs ?! ( definitely not projecting or anything )

hope ur feeling better !! sending oranges !!

I have no idea what you’re talking about but I’m so glad I did!!! I’m feeling a bit better thank you :) thank you for requesting anon, I love you and am eating oranges 🍊 enjoy x

academic validation (shiv)

ᝰ the two of you are high school sweethearts

ᝰ and you even went to the same college

ᝰ you’d spent the entire four years glued together, first living in a cramped dorm then your very first apartment

ᝰ you’re married now, and you both look back on those years fondly

ᝰ you both learned a lot then

ᝰ specifically with letting yourself fail

ᝰ it started with a disastrous test you’d taken senior year

ᝰ you were stressing the fuck out over it; it could’ve severely affected your gpa

ᝰ right before you graduated, too

ᝰ in the itty bitty apartment you’d shared with shiv, you’d bawled your eyes out

ᝰ she found you when she came home from class

ᝰ “hey, hey, what’s wrong?”

ᝰ she came to sit with you

ᝰ her palm smoothed down your spine

ᝰ you leaned into her and lamented over your stresses

ᝰ she kissed your forehead

ᝰ “one singular test doesn’t define you. this is just a little blip, okay?”

ᝰ “but what if i don’t get a job?”

ᝰ she’d snorted

ᝰ “i don’t give a shit if you scratched your ass your entire time at school, there will be a job for you at waystar once you graduate.”

ᝰ she’d nudged you, trying to lighten the mood

ᝰ “all the better you’re top of the class, hm? you’ll make good money.”

ᝰ while maybe it’s not the reassurance you were looking for, you knew she was just trying to help

ᝰ she kept talking

ᝰ she just wanted you to understand that it doesn’t matter what your test taking skills are like; it matters that you know what you’re doing

ᝰ and you did, you still do

ᝰ and she told you over and over that you’ll be a phenomenal fucking employee, phenomenal *human out of college

ᝰ and she tells you know that she was right

ᝰ it was all just her way of loving you

ᝰ it still is

ᝰ today, you’re both cuddled up in bed after a long day at work

ᝰ you’re scrolling through your phone, her head buried in your chest

ᝰ you stroke her hair with your free hand

ᝰ “eavis wants us for the campaign,” you murmur

ᝰ she laughs

ᝰ “really? tell him to fuck off.”

ᝰ she plants a kiss on your shoulder

ᝰ “i won’t say that. but i won’t say no, either. we might need an escape plan, mm?”

ᝰ “okay. but you’re not going anywhere without me, you hear?”

ᝰ “yeah, yeah. you know i wouldn’t.”

ᝰ “i know. i love you. and to think you were ever worried about your job.”

ᝰ you laugh

ᝰ “all thanks to you.”

ᝰ “i mean, not even. you’re smart, like really fucking smart, and you’re *hot-”

ᝰ “i don’t think that matters-”

ᝰ “and you’re all mine. i love you so fucking much.”

ᝰ “i love you too, shiv. thank you for everything.”

ᝰ “if eavis is what you want, i’ll do it with you. i swear. anything you say goes.”

ᝰ you end the night with a long, affectionate kiss

[cinnamongirlrry]

Always here for you.

Summary: Y/N is tired after a hard day at work, and Harry is always here to help her.

What’s wrong, my love?”, he asks, sitting on the edge of the bed and placing his hand on Y/N’s shoulder. “My back hurts so bad”, she says in weak voice, looking at him with furrowed brows.

One of the few things she hates about her job is that she has to sit for almost half the day. She tries to exercise or walk in her spare time to keep her body healthy. But sometimes she just wants to come home and lie down for the rest of the day.

She's been stressed all day, a new article she's working on takes up a lot of time and energy. Also, her body hurts terribly, as if it had been run over by hundreds of cars. She hates it all.

“How can I help you, darling? Would you like me to give you a massage? It seemed to help last time”, he offers, hoping somehow to make her feel better. “That would be really nice, Harry”, she mutters softly, to which she hears “Anything for you, baby”

The last time she suffered from tension and pain in her body, Harry gave her a relaxing massage. He spent several hours, reading how to do it right and what exactly helped others.

Harry was glad he had found a way to lessen her pain. And he’s ready to do it for her every time she needs it, he really hates to watch her hurt.

“Baby, lie on your stomach and take off your shirt, get comfortable”, he says in a soothing voice, as he walks over to the nightstand to light her favorite candle and grab some sage lavender oil.

Harry rubs a few squirts of oil between his hands and places them at the base of her neck. Starting at the base of the neck, he slowly slides his palms out over the tops of Y/N’s shoulders. 

The feel of his warm, gentle hands on her skin makes her let out a low, involuntary moan. “Tell me if it hurts, okay honey?”, he reminds her, to which Y/N mutters “okay”

Starting with hands-on her shoulder blades, he softly glides them down her back with his hands moving toward each other so they come together over the top of Y/N’s ass. Again, he glides over the top of her hips, then slides his hands back together over her low back.

He does it again, this time placing gentle kisses on the dimples of her lower back. There's something so intimate and sweet about it that makes her blush and smile a little.

With every touch Y/N feels how the tension in her body goes away and this cannot but please her. She always knew Harry's hands could do amazing things, god she loves them so much.

“Feeling good, my love?”, he coos, making several circles with his palms over her shoulder blades. Y/N moans softly at the relaxing touches and says “Yeah, feels great, H.”

Harry had always admired how hard she worked, how she handled everything on her own. He knows that she’s not yet accustomed to receiving help and care from others. So he tries to do everything possible so that she understands that he’s always ready to take care of her and he does not require anything in return.

He slides his hands over her thighs, stroking them in slow circles as he leaves soft kisses up her spine. Not only does she no longer feel tension in her body, she feels how she becomes wet between her thighs.

A couple of hours ago, she wouldn’t have thought that she could be turned on today. But here she is, whimpering from the caresses of her lover. “H, fuck.. you’re making me feel so good, baby”, she says softly.

"I'm glad you're feeling better, honey," he coos as one of his hands slides down her back to her ass. He slides his fingers between her cheeks, reaching her wet pussy. “Oh baby, do you want me to do something about it?” he says, running his fingers along her slit.

"it can wait, thank you for taking care of me, H.” Y/N really means it. She doesn’t know what she did to deserve such an attentive and loving partner, but she’s really grateful to him.

“Course, my love. I’m always here for you”

[nightingaleflow]

The "Q" Word Curse

AO3 Link

Fandom: Naruto Rating: T Relationships: Gaara/Sakura Haruno Word Count: 1,895 Warnings: Medical setting, serious injuries & treatment of said injuries, Sakura hanging on by a thread (but there's a happy ending).

A/N:

Happy GaaSaku Fanfest 2023! This fic was written for the Day 4 prompt, Medic. Setting wise, this is Blank Period (when else?), and Gaara and Sakura have been married for a while. General warnings for hospitals, medical procedures, and Sakura hanging on by a thread (but there's a happy ending). I hope you enjoy! <3

~

It had been an easy morning at the Suna hospital. Sakura spent the entirety of it making her usual rounds, doing nothing more stressful than healing a sprained ankle for a young boy. All of her most complicated patients had been discharged, and the ones that remained only needed breakfast and a friendly chat as she checked their vitals. It was nice, and she felt good about how things were progressing as she turned in her patient reports.

Sari, the girl behind the desk today, beamed at her as she stifled a yawn. “Good morning, Lady Sakura,” she said. “Doing all right today?”

Sakura nodded. “Yeah, thank you. How are you settling in?”

“Really well,” Sari said. “Everyone here’s been so nice.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” Sakura couldn’t help but smile as Sari stifled a yawn. “Tired?”

“I am,” Sari admitted. “I’m still not used to the early mornings.” She picked up a steaming mug from her desk, happily sipping it.

“I’ve been there,” Sakura said. “Thank the gods for coffee, or I wouldn’t be standing some mornings.”

Sari laughed at that. “True,” she said. “And thankfully, it’s been a quiet morning so far.”

Sakura’s blood ran cold. Several people looked up in alarm, dropping papers and letting the water cooler drip onto the floor. She put her hands on the counter and leaned forward. “Don’t say that,” she hissed urgently.

Sari nearly dropped her coffee. “I’m sorry!” she said, eyes wide. “What did I say?”

“The ‘Q’ word,” Sakura replied. “Never, ever say that.”

Sari frowned. “Why?”

“Because the moment you say it, the rest of your shift becomes anything but,” Sakura said, pinching her nose.

“Oh,” Sari said. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

Sakura sighed, forcing her shoulders to relax. “No worries,” she said. “You’re new, so you didn’t know. Just don’t ever say that again.”

“I won’t, I promise.”

Sakura managed a small smile, then turned and briskly walked towards her office, dread flooding her core. She didn’t consider herself a superstitious person by any means, but she fully believed that the word quiet was a deadly one when spoken within the walls of the hospital. She’d only ever heard it spoken three times: this morning, and twice previously. The two times before had each heralded disaster, once a greenhouse shattering and impaling those inside with shards of glass, once a parade horse had panicked and trampled several people in the crowd. She shivered, feeling cold despite the sunlight streaming through the hallway windows, wondering what was in store for her today.

She didn’t have to wait long to find out. As she got to her door, she heard them. The shouts for help, the pounding footsteps, and the slamming doors, all coming from their operating rooms. She took a deep breath, then straightened, tightening the ribbon holding her pink hair back as she raced towards the chaos.

She smiled grimly when she found the crowd of people in Operating Room 1. This room was reserved for only the most serious of cases or the most important patients. Her mind raced with theories, trying to guess what she would see as she tried to push through the people.

A medic named Ameno noticed Sakura’s attempts to break through. She immediately came over, catching her arm. “My lady,” she said, her soft brown eyes full of worry. “You shouldn’t go any further.”

Sakura’s heart nearly stopped beating. She was the head of the hospital, and one of the most skilled medics in Suna, if not the entire world. She’d performed hundreds of procedures over the years, thousands of shinobi and civilians alike finding comfort under her healing hands. There was no reason for anyone to deny her access to any patient.

Except for one.

“Let me pass,” Sakura ordered, keeping her voice cool and steady.

Ameno frowned, clearly thinking it was a bad idea. But she relented, loosening her grip, and Sakura stepped forward.

As she pushed through, she saw exactly what she’d been dreading. Gaara, the Kazekage and her beloved husband, lay on his back on the metal table. His dark-ringed eyes were scrunched closed, his dark red hair plastered to his neck with sweat. His shirt and chainmail had already been removed, revealing a set of red lightning-shaped burns across his pale torso. An ugly slash ran across his rib cage, scarlet blood seeping out and dripping onto the table.

Every part of Sakura wanted to collapse, to scream and wail as so many other wives had done at the sight of their lifeless husbands. Her knees shook. Her head spun. She closed her eyes, but the image of Gaara had already burned itself into her mind, and she had to force herself to breathe.

“What happened?” she asked in the calmest voice she could manage.

“Lord Kazekage was attacked in the market,” one of the younger medics, Jomei, replied. “They used a powerful Lightning jutsu, then stabbed him with a dagger.”

Lightning, of course. The one thing that could disable Gaara’s sand and leave him open to an attack. Sakura nodded, rolling up her sleeves and scrubbing in as quickly as she could as she ordered the medics to clean Gaara’s wound. She then gently placed her hands on Gaara’s chest, careful to avoid directly touching his injuries. Even so, he grimaced, more sweat pouring down his face.

I’m sorry, Sakura thought as she directed one of the medics to wipe Gaara’s face. It’ll only be a little longer. Hang on for me.

She sent pulses of chakra through his body, assessing the extent of his internal damage. The electricity had wreaked havoc, damaging several muscles and organs, the most worrisome of which was his heart. The dagger had gotten deep as well, sinking into his liver.

Sakura gritted her teeth, ignoring the despair that wanted to swallow her whole. She focused her attention on the open wound, which somehow looked worse now that the blood had been cleaned away. Her hands glowed green, and the wound sealed itself shut. Next, she started on his heart, carefully chasing away the burns that crossed epicardium and making sure it was pumping correctly. Then his lungs. His liver. All of the surrounding muscles. One by one, she healed them all. His pained grimace relaxed, and before long, he looked ten years younger than he had when he first arrived. But Sakura refused to stop, pushing her chakra into every cell and restoring life to his muscles and nerves.

The familiar rhythm calmed her, letting her focus on her work rather than who she was working on. Her team picked up her calm demeanor, performing their roles around her as if it was just another day. As if their Kazekage and the love of her life weren’t unconscious in front of them, his life in her hands.

An hour later, Sakura finally slumped into a chair outside, satisfied that Gaara had been sufficiently healed. She gratefully sipped the cup of water Ameno had brought her, giving herself a few moments to breathe as her team took Gaara to the private recovery room near her office. Once she was sure she could stand, she put her professional face back on and followed them.

It took several minutes to get Gaara settled, administering medicine to maintain his recovery and filling out more paperwork than Sakura had ever seen for a single patient. But eventually, it was all set, and the medics filed out and closed the door, leaving them alone at last.

She made it only a few seconds before a low sob escaped her throat. She clamped a hand over her mouth, but more pushed forth, breaking through the walls she had hastily built to survive his treatment. She slumped against the wall and shut her eyes, burning tears dripping onto her pristine white coat.

Gaara shifted slightly on the bed, his cloudy teal eyes opening just a crack. “S..akura?”

She was across the room in a second. “You’re awake,” she whispered, hastily wiping her eyes.

Gaara nodded slowly, wincing as he pressed a hand against his ribs. Sakura gently laid her hands over his. “You should take it easy,” she said. “You were hurt pretty badly.”

She hated the pain that filled his eyes as he looked up at her. “What happened? The last thing I remember, I was in the marketplace.”

Sakura filled him in as best she could, repeating what her medics had told her before going over his injuries. Gaara listened attentively, the sadness and fury in his face enough to break Sakura’s heart. “I’m so sorry that I put you through this,” he said as she finished.

“No,” Sakura said. “The only people at fault here are the ones who hurt you.”

“Even so, I wish you hadn’t been put in a position where you saw me in such dire straits.” He slowly closed his eyes, his head slightly lowered. “I’m sorry for the distress you had to endure.”

Sakura opened her mouth to deny it, to assure him that she was fine, but nothing came out. Another tear splashed onto Gaara’s blanket, then three more. Gaara took her hand, then pulled her into him. Sakura buried her face in his chest, his heartbeat reassuring her that he was there, that he was alive. Her whole body shook as she finally let herself cry. “I’m so glad you’re still here,” she whispered.

Gaara hugged her tighter, barely flinching as he said, “All thanks to you.”

It occurred to Sakura that this was almost funny, that Gaara was the one comforting her rather than the other way around. After all, he was the one who’d been attacked, she’d just put him back together after. But that was how he’d always been - attuned to her and wanting her to be happy, even at his own expense.

Gradually, her sobs quieted, and she slowly pulled back so she could look at him properly. “I love you.”

He leaned forward, softly kissing her forehead. “I love you too.”

She smiled, wiping her eyes. “And you really don’t have to apologize,” she said. “Yes, it wasn’t fun seeing you on my operating table. But given the choice, I would always rather be the one to heal you. That way, I know for sure you’re going to be okay.”

Gaara smiled back, gently brushing back a lock of her hair that had worked itself loose. “You should get some rest now, Sakura.”

“But-” Sakura started to protest.

“I’ll be fine,” Gaara reassured her. “I know you took good care of me. I’ll also be able to rest easier knowing you’re taking care of yourself.”

Sakura’s shoulders slumped. She couldn’t argue with that, and he knew it.

“Okay,” she agreed. “Just promise me you’ll actually get some rest.”

“I will.”

She softly kissed him, then reluctantly stood up. “I’ll be back later to check on you.”

“Of course.” 

He settled back against the pillows, his eyes closing as Sakura slipped outside. She waited for a few moments, listening to make sure he was actually asleep. Then she finally clocked out and went home.

She tumbled into bed as soon as she arrived, too exhausted to even eat. Her mind buzzed with worry, her last thought before she succumbed to sleep: He’s going to be okay.

She could only pray she was right.

[kallie-den]

A Commanding Weakness Ch. 3

The ship's muscular, boisterous chief of security, Samira Carter, is summoned by Dr. Hiraga for an appointment in medbay. But when the doctor starts playing into her deepest fantasies, will her strength be enough to overcome her secret fetish: that she gets off on feeling weak

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

---

Chief Samira Carter was having a good day. It was her day off, and as chief of security on the Inyx, she didn’t get many of those. Especially not now that they had chased Wasp, the criminal vandal-hacker, all the way to the furthest and most dangerous parts of the rim of Alliance space. This was the kind of time when standards slipped and tempers frayed, and it was Chief Carter’s job to make sure that didn’t happen. Captain Vasser was perfectly capable of running a tight ship, of course, but it wasn’t appropriate to dirty the captain’s hands with every petty squabble and misdeed amongst the crew.

Dealing with all that fell to Chief Carter. Nobody talked back to a good security officer, and she was a great security officer.

As she walked through the Inyx’s passageways and bulkheads, everyone who she passed looked at her with a healthy mixture of fear, respect, and admiration. On her days off, Chief Carter was particularly grateful to be able to bask in that last one. She put a hell of a lot of effort into her body, and she was always glad to get some appreciation for it. Tall and broad-shouldered, she certainly had the build of a security officer, and she spent just about every spare hour she could in the Inyx’s gymnasium keeping her large, prominent muscles nicely toned and finely honed.

When she was off-duty, like today, the regs even permitted her to wear a simple, black tank top instead of the usual button-up uniform jacket. She loved the looks it put on the faces of some of the younger girls on the crew.

But today she had something more to bother with than winking at the women ogling her to make them blush. She had an appointment with the ship’s chief medical officer.

“Hey, doctor,” Chief Carter called out, as she walked into the medbay. “How’s it going?”

“Chief.” Dr. Hiraga rose to meet her, a warm, professional smile on her face. “Thank you for coming. I trust I haven’t interrupted anything important? I was under the impression that you were off duty, but you look busy.”

“Don’t worry.” Chief Carter laughed heartily. “I was just pumping some iron. I’m afraid I had to come straight from the gym.”

She knew Dr. Hiraga was reacting to the sheen of sweat covering her muscular body. In truth, it was simply how Chief Carter often liked to present herself. It usually had the desired effect. Her rich, olive skin looked incredible that way, she’d often been told. She could have showered, but instead she’d just taken a little time to make sure her chin-length bob of black hair looked good.

Dr. Hiraga wasn’t her usual type. But you never knew.

“I’ll be sure not to keep you,” Dr. Hiraga replied. “As you know, it’s mostly just a check-up.”

“I’m sure it’ll be quick,” Chief Carter quipped as the two of them went to sit down. “As you can see, I’m in great shape.”

Dr. Hiraga laughed politely. “I’m sure. But today we’re more interested in your mental health than your physical health.”

“Pfft. I don’t really go in for that kind of stuff, but alright.” Chief Carter sat back, one arm resting over the back of her chair. “What do you need to ask?”

The doctor pulled something up on her datapad. “Well, it’s been a long tour, and we haven’t seen much success so far. How are you handling the stress?”

Chief Carter shrugged easily. “It’s nothing. I’m used to it.”

“Are you sure?” Dr. Hiraga pressed. “As chief of security, there’s a lot of pressure on your shoulders.”

“My shoulders can handle it.” Chief Carter flexed a little, grinning. “If I get frustrated, all I need to do is picture what I’m gonna do to that Wasp once we get our hands on her.”

“That’s certainly what I like to hear.” Something lively and daring suddenly flashed through Dr. Hiraga’s eyes and - to Chief Carter’s shock - she bit her bottom lip. “Don’t worry, Chief. I trust you. I’m looking at those shoulders of yours very, very carefully.”

She was plainly flirting and, for once, Chief Carter was too stunned to flirt back. This was the last thing she’d expected from the ship’s mousy doctor.

“Right.” She laughed awkwardly, immediately unsure if she’d simply imagined it.

“Do you feel you have coping methods for the stresses that your role presents?” Dr. Hiraga asked, flipping back to professionalism. “Friends? Hobbies? Ways to blow off steam?”

“Well, sure. That’s what I go to the gymnasium for.” Chief Carter gestured at her biceps. “There’s no better way to deal with things than lifting something nice and heavy. It gives you a goal to strive for. Gets you out of your own head. It feels great, even if it does leave you a little sweaty.”

“So I see.” Dr. Hiraga’s eyes flashed again. “You make it sound very appealing, Chief. Perhaps I’ll have to pay you a visit at the gym sometime - if you wouldn’t mind, of course.”

Her flirtatious tone threw the security chief off-balance again. “You mean, to work out? Sure. I’d be more than happy to show you the ropes, spot for you, stuff like that.”

“Oh, no.” Dr. Hiraga giggled uncharacteristically. “I was just thinking that I’d love to watch.”

Chief Carter blinked and then looked at her sharply. There was no way she had imagined that. Dr. Hiraga was certainly in some kind of mood. Besides her flirtiness, she was calmer and more assured than Chief Carter had ever seen before. And… was she wearing something underneath her uniform? Chief Carter could see, just barely, a few hints of something black and shiny. It looked kinky.

A slow smile crept over Chief Carter’s face. Was Dr. Hiraga having some kind of midlife crisis? Whatever was happening, it was clearly good for her. The doctor had always been so high-strung, and if discovering her wild side was helping her to get over that, Chief Carter was happy for her.

Plus, she’d be happy to help. Fraternizations between officers were strictly regulated, of course, but as chief of security, Chief Carter felt entitled to bend the rules a little, provided she was being discreet. Dr. Hiraga had never really caught her eye before, but she certainly wasn’t bad-looking, and Chief Carter found herself suddenly curious about what, exactly, was going on under that uniform.

“Sure,” Chief Carter replied slowly, grinning. “You can come watch. I bet there are all kinds of things I could show you.”

“I bet.” Dr. Hiraga took a moment to smile daringly at her before moving on. “Well, I think it’s safe to say that you’re doing great. Now let’s take care of the procedure.”

Chief Carter suddenly frowned. “The procedure?” She’d heard nothing about this.

“An inoculation,” Dr. Hiraga explained. “We’re entering a region of space inhabited by a unique void-faring alien species called the Kressari. They make use of a unique song with mind-altering effects. I’ve devised a simple procedure to protect each of us from those effects.”

“I see,” Chief Carter replied cautiously. This was all news to her. “What does it involve?”

“A simple holo-stimulant nano-implant, based on our ship’s very own holodeck technology.” Dr. Hiraga stood up and started making a few preparations. “It’s injected via the aural canal and attaches to the optic nerve. From there, it makes use of holographic projections that can cancel out other mind-altering effects.”

“Huh.” Chief Carter was taken aback. She trusted Dr. Hiraga, obviously, but she’d never heard of the Kressari before, and this was the kind of thing she’d expect to find out about in a briefing or a ship-wide announcement. “And… this is all coming from Captain Vasser, right?”

“Why, of course.” Dr. Hiraga turned back to her and handed her datapad to the security chief. “Here.”

Chief Carter looked. Sure enough, it was right there - an order to inoculate the crew just as Dr. Hiraga had described, signed by the captain herself. That was more than enough to set Chief Carter at ease.

“What do you need me to do?” Chief Carter asked, shrugging.

“Over here, please.”

Dr. Hiraga beckoned Chief Carter over from her desk to one of the large, reclining examination chairs that occupied the medbay, surrounded by various pieces of medical equipment. Chief Carter obligingly hopped up into the chair and lay down, resting her head on the comfortable headrest. Dr. Hiraga bustled next to her, preparing for the procedure.

“Your hand, please,” the doctor said.

Chief Carter offered it to her immediately, but froze when she saw what the doctor was holding. “Um… what is that for?”

The doctor had reached under the chair and retrieved a large, sturdy-looking leather cuff, attached to the examination chair by a length of cable.

“I’m afraid restraints are standard procedure for this kind of thing,” Dr. Hiraga replied calmly. “Just in case. A few brief muscle spasms aren’t out of the question. We wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“Uh-huh,” Chief Carter said nervously.

This day was getting stranger and stranger but she had no reason to question the ship’s doctor, especially when she was acting on the captain’s orders. Still, Chief Carter found herself beginning to sweat and squirm as Dr. Hiraga moved carefully around the bed attaching the restraints - one for each wrist and each ankle.

“Y-you know, these might not actually help all that much.” Chief Carter made a show of tensing her muscles, and did her best to keep her voice light and jovial. “I’m sure they’re good enough for most of your patients, but I bet I could bust out in a heartbeat if I really tried.”

Dr. Hiraga had moved away to inspect her datapad, but she glanced back with a look of intense amusement on her face. “Oh, I don’t know about that.”

Something about her complete and total assurance sent a shiver down Chief Carter’s spine. “Yeah?”

“These are designed to hold anyone, chief,” Dr. Hiraga said. “And I do mean anyone. But, if you like, feel free to try them.”

Chief Carter blinked. “Huh.”

“Try it,” Dr. Hiraga repeated. “Try and break out. Give it your best shot.”

That light in her eyes was back, and there was something unreadable in the amusement on her face. This wasn’t the uptight, professional doctor Chief Carter was used to. “No, uh, I was just kidding around,” Chief Carter replied bashfully. “I wouldn’t want to break anything.”

“Not much chance of that, I promise you.” An unusual smirk came to the doctor’s face. “Besides, you’ve got me curious. Go ahead.”

“N-no.” Now, Chief Carter was really struggling to keep her voice light. “I mean, I-“

“What’s the matter?” Dr. Hiraga dared insistently. The flirtiness in her voice was back too. “The big, strong chief of security doesn’t want to put on a show? That doesn’t sound like you! You’re not scared, are you?”

Chief Carter couldn’t ignore that. It was a regular refrain between her gym buddies back on Earth, and she never backed down from a challenge. “Of course not!” she shot back, her cheeks slightly red. “Just don’t go blaming me if I break your chair. I warned you.”

Dr. Hiraga simply nodded and stood back to watch, a lurid, curious expression on her face. Chief Carter knew she couldn’t back down now. She sat up as much as she was able, braced herself against the chair with her left arm, and then started to bend her right, engaging her powerful biceps as much as she could to try and fight against the restraints.

Nothing.

Chief Carter had been hoping to at least feel them budge. They didn’t. There was no give. No elasticity. The restraints were merciless. She strained as hard as she could, uncomfortably conscious of the doctor’s gaze, but all she managed to do was exhaust herself. The longer she tried without success, the more a nameless, shameful tingling started to build within her body.

After a few more long moments, there was nothing for her to do but admit defeat.

When she slumped back into the examination chair, Chief Carter heard Dr. Hiraga laugh at her failure. That made her cheeks burn much, much hotter.

“You see?” Dr. Hiraga teased. “Now, allow me to just…”

She tapped a few times on the control panel next to the chair. There was a hum of energy coming from underneath Chief Carter, and then the cables connected to the cuffs around her wrists and ankles suddenly pulled tight, yanking the security chief’s thick, muscular limbs flat against the chair and binding her firmly in place. Chief Carter let out a surprised yelp.

“Doc! You could have warned me.”

“It’s all for your own safety,” Dr. Hiraga assured her. “Besides, does it really matter? You’re no more helpless now than you were before.”

Helpless. That word ran straight through Chief Carter’s body like a shock. “I’m not-“

“You know, it was very cute watching you strain just now.” Dr. Hiraga’s voice was edging beyond teasing, into mockery. “Huffing and puffing, straining and flexing. You looked so surprised! Not used to feeling overpowered, are you?”

A strangled noise erupted from Chief Carter’s throat. Words slipped away from her, as her body burned hotter and hotter.

“It was quite the sight,” Dr. Hiraga continued, walking around the bed so she could stand next to the chief’s head. “Just imagine if the rest of the crew saw you like this. Especially all those recruits you end up drilling. They’re so scared of you! I bet they wouldn’t be if they saw the big, strong, muscley Chief Carter looking as weak as a kitten.”

Chief Carter had to choke on her breath not to moan.

“Don’t worry. It won’t be for long. Although it could be, couldn’t it?” Dr. Hiraga reached out and stroked a finger along Chief Carter’s cheek. She was obviously enjoying that the chief couldn’t stop her. “I could keep you tied down here for a nice, long time if I really wanted to. It’s not like you could do anything to stop me, could you?”

“D-d-doctor!” Chief Carter spluttered. “T-this isn’t funny.”

“Come to think of it, let me just make sure we aren’t disturbed.” Dr. Hiraga tapped the console again, and Chief Carter heard the disconcerting clunk of the medbay’s doors locking shut. “You’re right, it’s not funny,” she said, turning back. “I’m not joking. I’m enjoying myself in a very different way.”

Chief Carter’s blood started to run cold. This wasn’t right. Dr. Hiraga didn’t behave this way. This was more than just a weird day. Something had happened - was happening - to the doctor. Something serious.

“D-Doctor Hiraga.” Chief Carter tried to make her voice firm instead of breathless. “Let me go. Right now.”

“No,” Dr. Hiraga replied at once. Hearing her say it like that, point-blank, confirmed Chief Carter’s worst fears. “ You haven’t taken your medicine yet, Chief Carter. I need to make sure you take your medicine. She told me to.”

“She? The captain?”

“No,” Dr. Hiraga said again. “Her.” She glanced up, momentarily addressing the room. “Computer. Activate the emergency medical hologram.”

Hidden projectors concealed all around the medbay whirred into life and, within just a few moments, an image made of hardlight materialized on the opposite side of the examination chair from Dr. Hiraga. Chief Carter recognized who it was at once, and it made her heart start pounding a double rhythm.

It was Wasp.

Chief Carter would have recognized the amoral hacker anywhere. She’d certainly spent enough time staring at her file. Those punk tattoos and that slicked streak of neon green hair were unmistakable. She’d never seen an image of Wasp looking quite like this, though. The hacker’s hologram was wearing an old-fashioned white-and-red nurse’s outfit that was made entirely out of shiny rubber and that was unapologetically porny in its tightness and skimpiness. Chief Carter hoped against hope that it was nothing more than a hologram, but her hopes were dashed when Wasp came to life with a malicious, impish grin.

“What’s the matter, doc?” Wasp drawled. “Have we got a rowdy patient on our hands?” She glanced down at Chief Carter, and then wolf-whistled theatrically. “Wow! They weren’t kidding. She’s a real beefcake.”

“What the-“ Chief Carter immediately redoubled her efforts to break free of the restraints, but that served only as a stomach-churning reminder of how helpless she was. Now that the restraints had been pulled tight, her efforts were even more futile. “Release me! Right now!”

“Nope!” Wasp replied breezily. “She just told you. You gotta take your medicine.”

“She…” Chief Carter turned toward the doctor. “Doctor Hiraga! How could you do this? Is she forcing you? Paying you? Blackmailing you? Or are you truly just-“

Her accusations died on her lips when, for the first time, she truly looked deep into Dr. Hiraga’s eyes. Earlier, she had only seen the dancing light of enjoyment and flirtation. Now she could look beyond that, and see it for what it was: nothing but a reflection caught in the glassy eyes of a doll. In truth, Dr. Hiraga’s eyes were blank. They were a yawning void, indicating nothing but a total lack of will or awareness.

All her gleeful teasing from before was gone too. Chief Carter instinctively realized that Dr. Hiraga wasn’t in control of herself. Earlier, she had been nothing but a puppet playing out her assigned part. Now that it was over, she was as limp as a discarded marionette.

And Wasp, of course, was the puppeteer.

“What have you done to her?” Chief Carter demanded.

“Just a little holodeck hypnotism,” Wasp answered lightly. “Don’t worry. You’ll get your taste soon enough.”

Chief Carter didn’t like the sound of that one bit. “And… you faked the captain’s seal?” she asked hopefully, even though she was already dreading the answer.

“No need.” Wasp giggled wickedly. “Vasser was the first. But not the last. Oh no.”

Chief Carter’s head was starting to spin. If Wasp already had Captain Vasser wrapped around her little finger, the whole ship was in danger. That made escaping even more urgent. She was the chief of security. It was her job to keep everyone safe, and that meant she needed to figure out how to get free.

“What are you going to do to me?” she demanded, as much as anything to try and keep Wasp talking.

“Why, me? Can’t you tell? I’m the emergency medical hologram!” Wasp twirled, almost flipping up her latex miniskirt. “The outfit is more than just fanservice for the doctor here. It’s just like she said. We’re going to give you a little procedure.”

That truly made Chief Carter’s blood run cold. “What kind of procedure?”

“She already told you, meathead,” Wasp mocked. “Well, not the stuff about it being an inoculation against aliens. That was bullshit. But yeah, we’re going to give you a fun little implant. Something to make you nice and docile for me.”

“That’ll never work!” Chief Carter raged at once. “I’ll never obey you!”

“That’s the spirit.” Wasp winked at her, before turning to Dr. Hiraga. “How are we looking, doc?”

“The implant is ready,” Dr. Hiraga replied. The lack of emotion in her voice was shocking. “However, my scanners indicate agitated theta rhythm activity from Chief Carter. It may interfere.”

“Hm.” Wasp stroked her chin thoughtfully. “Too much resistance, huh? Any suggestions?”

“A sedative is a possibility,” Dr. Hiraga said blankly. “But it would be necessary to fine-tune the dose. Too much or too little would render indoctrination ineffective.”

“I see,” Wasp mused, before a fresh grin came to her face. “We can worry about that later. For now, I have a different idea about how to deal with all that pesky resistance.”

“Good luck,” Chief Carter snorted. A faint hope had started to grow within her. All she had to do was hold out. Sooner or later, someone would come to find her. “You’ll need it. I’ll never break. Never. I’m as strong as steel.”

The devilish, lopsided grin that split Wasp’s face from ear to ear as she loomed over the captive security chief immediately wiped away Carter’s confidence.

“That’s the fun part, chief,” Wasp drawled. “You’re really, really not.”

“What are you talking about?” Chief Carter frowned nervously.

“You know, I’ve hacked all the way through your ship’s holographic systems and data,” Wasp crowed. “And wow, turns out everyone around here is hiding their dirty, kinky laundry in their holodeck scenarios! I guess that’s what comes of all this repressed, stuffed-shirt military shit. Anyway, I really, really liked what I found in yours.”

“N-no,” Chief Carter breathed, disbelieving, mortified.

“Oh yes,” Wasp cackled gleefully. “It's perfect. Almost cliché, really, but let no one say I’m not a fan of the classics.” She leaned in, putting her face very close to Chief Carter’s. “No wonder you were getting all hot and bothered when Doctor Hiraga was strapping you down.”

“S-shut up!”

Chief Carter had turned bright scarlet. She had never felt so humiliated. She longed to get up, to strike Wasp, to walk away - anything. But she couldn’t, and the certain knowledge of her own powerlessness itched at her, stimulating urges she longed to suppress.

“Honestly, you should be thanking me,” Wasp pronounced. “Just think of this as one of your naughty little fantasies come to life. Lie back and enjoy it. Enjoy feeling totally, pathetically weak and helpless.”

Those words were such a shock they made Chief Carter stop squirming. There was no denying it now. Wasp knew. Chief Carter couldn’t help running through her personal holodeck scenarios in the process - the naughty ones, the ones she kept secret. Among them were fantasies of being tied up and restrained. Fantasies of being overpowered. Fantasies of being drugged. The one thing they all had in common was defeat, and a specific angle of degradation.

Nothing got Chief Carter off harder than the thought of someone making the muscles and strength she was so proud of weak and useless, and then bullying her for it.

The way Dr. Hiraga was teasing her earlier had already hit uncomfortably close to home. The taunting smirk on her face as she’d watched the chief try and fail to break her bonds was something lifted straight from Chief Carter’s wet dreams. Now she understood why.

She prided herself on her strength. Her athleticism. Her impeccable physical condition. Someone watching it all fail her was a hot lash of humiliation that stirred up her body. It turned her stomach into a binding knot of craving and desperate, unbearable shame, and left her feeling like the ground had opened up beneath her, sending her tumbling, falling.

It was every bit as thrilling as it was horrifying, and a little voice at the back of Chief Carter’s mind always begged for more.

She whimpered. She couldn’t help it.

“Aw, look at that!” Wasp mocked. “The big strong bear has already turned into a meek little kitten. And I’ve barely had any fun yet.”

“S-shut up!” Chief Carter wished she had a wittier or more biting retort, but she didn’t. She couldn’t think. She couldn’t fucking think.

“Make me,” Wasp dared immediately. “Shut me up. C’mon. Oh, wait, you can’t. You’re trapped. You’re weak. Wanna take another run at those restraints?”

“I-I’m not,” Chief Carter insisted, and cringed when her voice came out as a whimper.

She couldn’t bring herself to try to break free again. She already knew what would happen, and how it would make her feel.

“Didn’t think so.” Wasp’s leering, victorious grin was another hot, humiliating lash. “Weak.”

Chief Carter started squirming again. She wasn’t even strong enough to keep herself from doing that.

“You can’t stop me doing anything I want,” Wasp pressed. “See?”

She reached out toward Chief Carter and stroked her fingertips over the lines of one of the muscular woman’s biceps. Her holographic form was made of hardlight, not flesh, but it was a close enough imitation to make Chief Carter twitch at the intimate touch. Wasp simply laughed at her plight.

“G-get off me!” Chief Carter protested weakly.

“Make me,” Wasp dared again. “Or else I’m going to go a lot further than just that. Like…”

The hacker bent over the examination chair, and it took Chief Carter far too long to realize that Wasp was about to kiss her. She tried to writhe out of the way but she could only move so much, and Wasp’s hands were immediately there to hold her head firm. The sensation of being overpowered by the person she was supposed to be apprehending sent an immediate quiver of shameful pleasure down Chief Carter’s spine.

Then Wasp kissed her.

There was nothing gentle or affectionate about the kiss. It was a pure power play. Wasp was making a show of the power she had over the restrained chief by claiming her lips and invading her mouth. Chief Carter couldn’t stop her, and couldn’t fight back.

So instead, she melted.

When Wasp finally pulled away, Chief Carter was left panting, her lips wet with drool, her cheeks stained with a girlish blush that didn’t suit her powerful body. The chief could see herself reflected in Wasp’s gleeful, malicious eyes, and what she saw there made her clench her thighs together in instinctive desperation.

“You see?” Wasp jeered. “You can’t stop me. You. Can’t. Stop. Me.”

“I-I…” The way the hacker drove the point home made it inescapable. Her words thundered through Chief Carter’s head, and the knot in her stomach kept binding tighter.

“But that’s just first base,” Wasp added, licking her lips. “And I’ve always been a greedy girl. The look on your face is already delicious, but I want way, way more. Let’s see…”

Wasp reached down Chief Carter’s body, and the chief saw white when she felt Wasp touch the belt buckle of her uniform pants.

“N-n-no!” she whined, as Wasp unfastened the buckle and unzipped her pants, pulling them down just a little to hang on her wide hips. “P… p…”

“Please?” Wasp threw back her head and laughed louder than ever. “Is that a ‘please’ I hear catching in your throat? Oh my god. I bet that stings, huh?”

“Hng… hrnngg.” Chief Carter was burning white hot. She wanted to escape from the heat of her own shame, but there was nowhere to go. She couldn’t even hide her face.

“Maybe ‘stings’ isn’t the right word,” Wasp said smugly. “But still. Big, bad Chief Samira Carter. I bet all the girls on the ship love you, huh? I wonder what they’d say if they saw you now. Tied up. Weak. Begging. Dripping wet.”

“Hffff.” Chief Carter tried to keep it out, but that suggestion wormed its way into her head. She found herself thinking about the women who had been ogling her earlier. The shame was ecstatic. “I-I’m… nnn…” she tried to say, fighting for her last shred of dignity. “Nnnot… wet…”

“Yeah? Let’s see, shall we?”

Wasp started peeling Chief Carter’s boxer shorts away from her body. The chief felt them come away sticky and wet. Wasp’s mocking laughter made her thrash her head from side to side.

“Remember what you were saying earlier?” she jeered. “Something about all the things you wanted to do to me when you caught me? How’s that looking now, chief?”

Chief Carter couldn’t answer. Her tongue hung limply out of her mouth. The sensation of falling was overwhelming.

“Maybe this’ll get you making some noise,” Wasp giggled, and pushed three of her fingers into the chief’s cunt.

Chief Carter let out one long, loud moan, girly and thick with pleasure. As soon as she heard the sound coming out of her own mouth, she tensed every single muscle in her body in an effort to stifle herself. It worked, but only just, and the way it made her back arch and her body writhe was just as humiliating as moaning.

When Wasp started pumping her fingers in and out in a rough, insistent rhythm, she lost control again. Wasp’s merciless bullying had put the muscular chief on a hair trigger, and the hacker seemed to know exactly how to touch her. Within moments, Chief Carter’s choked moans were forcing their way out of her throat and filling the medbay. The only thing louder was Wasp’s laughter, ringing inescapably in Chief Carter’s ears.

“Oh my god!” Wasp cried gleefully as she fucked her with her fingers. “Look at you now. I bet you couldn’t even pick yourself up out of that chair. I can’t believe this is all it takes. You’re so much easier than I thought you’d be, kitten.”

Her words made the boiling knot of humiliation and tension in Chief Carter’s stomach bind even tighter, and made her cunt clench down pitifully on Wasp’s fingers. The truth of her insults was what made Chief Carter truly burn. Her body felt like jelly. Even without the restraints, she wouldn’t be able to stand. Pleasure was robbing her of all her strength, and it was rapidly building to a mortifying peak.

“Gonna come for me already?” Wasp was increasing her pace, her thumb brushing against Chief Carter’s throbbing clit. “I didn’t know you were this much of a quickshot, too. It’s pathetic.”

“N-n-noooo,” Chief Carter howled in futile defiance.

“Oh yeah? Let’s see.”

Wasp did the cruelest thing possible: she started to pull back, making her strokes shallower and keeping her fingertips from reaching the most sensitive places inside Chief Carter’s body. And shamefully, the chief couldn’t find the strength to stop herself from thrusting forward with her hips as much as her restraints would allow, desperate for more stimulation.

She didn’t want this, but her body needed it. Chief Carter was so unbelievably weak to Wasp’s torture.

Wasp howled with laughter as she played Chief Carter like a musical instrument. Her wide, manic eyes were fixated on her victim’s face as she drew strength and glee from the increasingly humiliated, needy, pleasure-drunk expressions that Chief Carter wore.

“Look at you,” Wasp mocked. “You can’t even stop yourself from enjoying it.”

Shamefully, Chief Carter couldn’t help but feel an instinctive, animal gratitude when Wasp started finger-fucking her in earnest again, bringing the wave of her orgasm to its crest. She screamed like a trapped beast as she came, absolute humiliation burning through her mind as she soiled Wasp’s fingers with her wetness.

Wasp took a moment to bask in her victory, but soon turned serious. “Doc,” she called out to one side. “The implant, if you please.”

Dr. Hiraga, who had been standing at attention on the other side of the examination chair, picked up a hypospray from a nearby tray and handed it across to Wasp. Still in the throes of orgasm, Chief Carter only caught a quick look. She saw something pointed and threatening attached to one end.

“Hold her,” Wasp commanded.

The brainwashed doctor moved to hold Chief Carter’s head still. Chief Carter was starting to come down from her humiliating, orgasmic high and regain a little sense, but she still wasn’t able to fight Dr. Hiraga off. The doctor was slight and far from athletic, but Chief Carter felt as weak as a kitten. Her proud muscles wouldn’t obey her, and so she was helpless as Wasp held the hypospray to her ear.

“Time to take your medicine,” Wasp drawled, before pulling the trigger.

Accompanied by the sound of decompressing air, the procedure felt like an icicle being driven deep into Chief Carter’s ear - deeper than was physically possible, so deep it felt like it was reaching her brain. She squirmed uselessly as she felt her mind curdle, the intrusive sensation of the nano-liquid driving all thoughts out of her head. Then, as the implant attached to her optic nerve, strange, glitch-like artifacts started to flake across her vision.

Chief Carter felt utterly helpless. Wasp was inside her now. She could sense something moving within her, changing her, a spider spreading its web throughout her brain. She wasn’t sure if it was a phantom sensation or not.

“How are we looking, doc?” Wasp asked, after a moment.

Dr. Hiraga checked her datapad. “Implant is active and ready for use.”

“Perfect!” Wasp drew herself up authoritatively in an impression of Captain Vasser made all the more mocking by her slutty nurse’s outfit. “Now, on my mark.”

She snapped her fingers.

Dr. Hiraga tapped on her datapad and at once, the holo-stimulant implant behind Chief Carter’s eyes came to life, blaring colors that were impossibly vivid and blindingly bright. Captain Vasser shuddered and seized up as the holographic lights overstimulated her nerves and saturated all of her senses. She couldn’t just see the lights, she could hear them. Taste them. Feel them.

A spiral.

It was a spiral, spinning; a dizzying kaleidoscope that drowned her as it turned. The implant blared so bright it shone all the way through her eyes, turning her eyeballs themselves into spinning, spiral orbs that glowed with electric intensity, bathing the space in front of Chief Carter with an unnatural light she could not herself see.

She couldn’t see the room, only the spiral, as it sunk deep into her psyche and imprinted upon her.

Eventually, mercifully, it stopped. Chief Carter slumped completely limp. No workout had ever left her feeling more wrung out. Her head was throbbing like it was about to split open, and she could still see that shining spiral whenever she blinked. She felt ruined.

“Talk to me, doc,” Wasp commanded. She was watching Chief Carter intently.

“All the readouts are good,” Dr. Hiraga reported in a flat monotone. “Preliminary test complete. Basic hypno-conditioning has been implanted successfully, along with the triggers you specified.”

“Perfect.” Wasp’s voice turned breathy and eager. “Fuck, that was hot. I bet the cap would be creaming her panties if she’d seen that. Too bad she’s stuck on the bridge. Oh well! Let’s get her free. The restraints are getting old.”

Dr. Hiraga obediently tapped on the nearby control panel, and the cuffs around Chief Carter’s wrists and ankles all simultaneously came loose.

Chief Carter couldn’t believe her luck. Finally, Wasp had made a mistake.

She felt like shit, but she wasn’t brainwashed like Dr. Hiraga. Not yet. She was still her own woman. And now she was free. Hidden reserves of strength surged within her. If nothing else, it would be enough to deal with Wasp, subdue Dr. Hiraga, and alert the rest of the Inyx’s crew.

Chief Carter took one single deep breath before she leaped to her feet and threw herself at Wasp.

It was instinct more than anything. You couldn’t knock out a hardlight hologram, but you could sure as hell shove one aside for a moment. And a moment was all she would need. She raised her fist, ready to strike, but was greeted with nothing but Wasp’s supremely confident smirk.

“Melt, kitten,” the hacker said.

As soon as that first word washed over Chief Carter, she was undone. The post-hypnotic trigger took hold of her in an instant. Her muscles failed her. Her raised fist slumped back to her side, and she collapsed to her knees as her legs turned to jelly.

Finally, it clicked. It didn’t matter how strong Chief Carter was. Wasp was in control.

As she knelt before the hacker, Chief Carter felt like the weakest, most helpless woman in the galaxy. And it made her cunt start to drip again.

“That’s what I like to see,” Wasp cooed, as she looked into Chief Carter’s eyes. “Defeat. See? Medicine doesn’t always go down easy. But it’s good for you, chief. It really is.”

Chief Carter didn’t say anything. She was done. Her mind was still her own, for now, but her body was Wasp’s. She’d lost. There was no point in fighting. It was over.

“Here,” Wasp said. “Something to take care of the aftertaste.”

She lifted her white latex miniskirt and, with a wave of her hand, conjured up a huge hardlight cock, mounted to her body with straps and a harness. Wasp reached down and guided Chief Carter’s head to it, pushing the tip of the holographic strap-on past her lips.

Chief Carter started to suck. Even if she’d had the strength to fight, she no longer had the will.

“I think we can call the test a complete success,” Wasp purred, admiring the broken, muscular woman kneeling before her and sucking her strap-on. “Let’s take her the rest of the way.”

She snapped her fingers, and Dr. Hiraga reactivated the holo-stimulant implant.

Lights blared back into life, outshining Chief Carter’s pupils and irises with spinning spiral eyes and drowning both pleasure and humiliation with blissful, hypnotic oblivion.

—

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