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#sketchy medical mention

chocolateygarlic · 27 days

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my meds are running low with no more prescribed refills, and i don't have the time or energy to call my doctor and get more........

#medical mention #my art #2024 #tired #art #artists on tumblr #artist on tumblr #artist #digital art #sketchy art

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sketchyface · 1 year

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The worst kind of feeling is vomiting but not having anything to vomit so you’re just spitting acid like that’s just a normal thing to spit

Turns into the most fucked up and in pain dragon

#sketchy fighting faers sleep medication #text #motion sickness #car sickness #vomit mention #vomit ment tw #tw vomit mention

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daddyfordaeddy · 2 months

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Hospitality

Pairing: Sugar baby! Wooyoung x Sugar mommy! f! yn

Word Count: 2064

Warnings: cursing, inaccurate medical tool use in the beginning, smut warnings under cut

Genre: Smut, established relationship au, sugar mommy au (hardly mentioned), E for explicit

Summary: After your first roleplay sparked a deep want for more, you and Wooyoung finally are able to act out your next desires.

Smut Warnings: roleplaying, dom/sub (reader dom, wooyo sub), handjob, oral (m), edging, riding, overstimulation, nipple/breast play, dick piercing, dirty talk, degradation (directed towards woo), unprotected sex (do? no), creampie, multiple orgasms, single mention of the colour system (woo says green once)

so when @sanjoongie wrote her fff day 20 (wooyo roleplay) I was...a little obsessed (I literally went feral in her dms). and so we ended up talking about a sequel with the aforementioned nurse/patient roleplay and I may or may not have ended up writing it in a single day but you didn't hear anything about that okay🔫 please enjoy and halfway through I forgot it was a roleplay so please ignore everything inaccurate about doctor stuff idk

“Hello, Mr Jung. I’ll be your home nurse. Is there anything I can help you with before we get started with the tests?” You raise an eyebrow as you lean forward, letting the doctor’s coat covering your torso slip just the slightest bit to tease your cut-out nurse costume you got from some sketchy website. You see Wooyoung’s eyes follow the skin and land on the hint of cleavage and you have to hold back your laughter. “Water, a cough drop?”

“Ah, I don’t think I’ll need anything else, ma’am. But you know, I’ve been feeling pain around my hips. I wasn’t sure if that’s something your little stethoscope could figure out?”

You bite your lip to keep the laughter from bursting out for real. Wooyoung is a lover of knowledge and research, it’s hilarious to see him blatantly ignore how a medical tool is used just to get his dick harder and wetter.

“Oh my, that’s not good,” you purr, reaching out to let your hand slide down his firm chest and dip into his slacks, the tips of your fingers barely kissing the hem of his briefs. You can feel the muscles tense underneath your touch. “Can you describe exactly what you’re feeling?”

Wooyoung groans, feigning pain. “Just an ache, and a slight burn. Can’t you check it out, ma’am?”

You hum, leaning in further and relishing in the way Wooyoung subconsciously follows your movement in an attempt to get closer. “Let’s see,” you hum sultrily as you push down his sweats, revealing his half-hard dick in his briefs. You tug the stethoscope from your neckline, pressing it against his twitching member and Wooyoung bites back a moan at the cool feeling of the metal even through his undergarments.

“I think I’ll need a closer look,” you tease, hooking a finger under the waistband of his underwear and tugging it down slowly, his cock springing free. The head of it is glistening with sticky precum, his king’s crown piercing practically sparkling with the sheen of the clear liquid paired with the overhead lights. God, it was so hard to resist fucking him properly in the seven months when he first got it (you paid for it, of course, how could you resist?), and you bite your lip in anticipation. This little roleplay is the first time you're actually getting to fuck him in months and you can't wait.

Without warning, you dip a finger into the tip and Wooyoung can’t hold back his moan this time, throwing back his head and whining. “Ma’am–” he chokes out and you chuckle.

“I think this needs some more hands-on tests,” you say thoughtfully, tapping the head of his dick with your index finger, amused by how Wooyoung squirms. “I’m going to need you to tell me exactly how you’re feeling, Mr Jung.” You punctuate it by tugging lightly on his piercing and Wooyoung’s hips jump.

“Ah– Fuck– Yes, ma’am,” Wooyoung cries out, already so, so sensitive. You chuckle at how needy he is already.

“I need you to be good for me, Mr Jung. That means no whining, no begging, and most importantly, do not come. It’s for your own health after all, you see,” you hum, tilting your head and letting the glasses sitting on your face slide down your nose bridge the way Wooyoung likes. “Do you understand me?”

Wooyoung nods frantically and you swat lightly at his cock.

“Use your words.”

“Fuck! Yes, yes, yes, I understand,” Wooyoung cries, tears already forming as he bites his lip. “Please, more.”

You tsk, moving your hand to slap his thigh harder, eliciting a gasp from Wooyoung. “What did I just say, Mr Jung? You’re not being very good right now.” Your hand grips the base of his cock tightly as you move your other hand to fondle his balls. “Will you listen to me or do I need to restrain you?”

Wooyoung’s eyes shine as his gaze flickers from your hands to your face. Either idea appeals to him, and you hold back a smirk. “I…I’ll be good,” he half-whines-half-begs. “I’ll be good, ma’am.”

You give a little hum of approval before pressing the stethoscope to his cockhead, coating it in his precome. “What are you feeling right now?” you ask, a pleased little note adding to your voice.

“Fuck, it’s aching,” Wooyoung babbles, his words slurring into each other. “Feels so good.”

Your grip on the base tightens and Wooyoung lets out such a loud moan his throat vein pops and you have to refrain from leaning in to lick a stripe up it. “Hm, that’s a bit contradicting, no? Perhaps we need to a little more in-depth.”

Before Wooyoung can react, you lean forward to press your lips against the tip of his dick, spreading the precome around your mouth like lipgloss. Wooyoung chokes as he does his best to hold still lest you punish him, his thighs shaking with the exertion. “Fuck, noona,” he moans, forgetting his part in this roleplay, and you let it slide, too busy enjoying the bitter taste of his cock mixing with the metallic piercing.

He’s not too thick, nor too long, but there’s something about easily being able to fit his entire cock in your mouth, or how you can wrap one hand around it with ease that makes you addicted. Your body is heating up and you shrug off the doctor’s coat, revealing far too much skin for a “nurse” and you sigh around Wooyoung’s length at the cool air hitting your body.

At this point, you could care less about keeping up appearances and you start to suck on Wooyoung’s cock with such a ferocity that his hands fly down to grip your hair. You’ll ignore the direct disobedience for now, too busy focusing on the absolute treat of having his cock in your mouth. The perfect weight of it resting on your tongue makes you moan as your thighs clench.

“Shit, gonna come,” Wooyoung babbles and right as his dick throbs, you squeeze it tight, only a little drop of release beading out the tip, which you lap up quickly, twisting your tongue around his piercing.

It takes you a second to get back into character but when you do, you lift your head and level Wooyoung with such a stare that he has the decency to look ashamed. “What did I tell you, Mr Jung?”

“Ah…not to come.”

“What else?”

“No whining.” Wooyoung’s face is red and his eyes are on the brink of tears, but his cock is still throbbing and he’s made no move to stop you. “‘M sorry.” He ends with a loud sniff, turning his head away, and you feel a little bad. But he broke the rules.

“Mr Jung, eyes on me.” It takes him a moment to start to move again but it’s not fast enough for you and in the blink of an eye you’re crawling up to him, taking a firm grip of his chin. “What we’re going to do, is let you come. I’m going to ride you. And you will come properly. Again, and again, until I’ve had my fill. Okay?”

Wooyoung nods, but your fingers dig into his jawline just barely. “Y-yes, ma’am,” he murmurs, and without prompting, “green.”

“Good boy,” you hum, leaning in to brush your lips against his just barely, smiling when he tries to chase your lips subconsciously. “Sit up for me, okay?”

It takes Wooyoung a little to follow your orders, his legs are like jelly, but he manages it before your impatience kicks in. As he catches his breath, you slide down until his cock presses against your bare cunt, having forgone underwear for this little roleplay.

You don’t let it enter you just yet, only rutting against it and letting it catch on your clit repeatedly, making you moan breathily and grip Wooyoung’s shoulders to stabilise yourself. Wooyoung keeps his teeth worked into his lips, trying not to whine at both the lack of and over-stimulation you’re giving him. He’s almost making them bleed before you move his head down to your tits, pulling the keyhole of your costume down to expose your nipples.

Wooyoung looks up at you, waiting for permission first and when you nod, he immediately latches onto the stiff peaks, sucking and nibbling at your sensitive skin.

“Ah, fuck,” you sigh in pleasure, closing your eyes for a moment and enjoying the feeling of him worshipping your chest.

Small whimpers leave Wooyoung’s busy mouth, and you reach back, grabbing his cock and finally fitting it inside you. The feeling of the blunt head pressing inside you and the piercing dragging against your walls makes you sigh. “Ah, you fit inside me so well,” you hum, hands gripping his firm thighs to steady yourself as you start to grind down. “God, I’m going to milk you fucking dry. Your small cock so perfect to be used and used until there’s nothing left.”

Wooyoung’s hands grip your waist, his fingernails digging into the skin and making you gasp as you arch your back, driving his cock deeper and pushing your tits into his face. Wooyoung moans into your breasts, his warm breath ghosting over your nipples and you feel him spill into you, searing hot come staining your throbbing walls.

“Shit,” you gasp, your head dropping in the crook of Wooyoung’s neck, mouthing at the skin as your cunt clenches, drawing a few more drops of come out of Wooyoung. Your hips stutter, but you hold back your orgasm, slowing your movement to help keep yourself from coasting right over the high. “God, already came, and this is only your first round. You’re precious, Wooyoungie.”

As you speak, you start moving up and down, building speed as Wooyoung mouths at your chest, more out of comfort than lust at this point. He’s in for a long night, and from the look in his eyes, he’s perfectly willing to be your toy.

You don’t know how long you’ve been riding Wooyoung’s cock, enough times for his come to be leaking out of your cunt constantly and your legs to be shaking as you continue to bounce and grind onto him. Drool is spilling out of Wooyoung’s mouth and down your chest, and as much as Wooyoung has been fucked dumb, you’re right there with him. You’ve held back all your orgasms thus far, but now you’re too far gone to care and you fall into his lap with a groan, his cock spearing into you.

“Fuck…” you groan bordering on a whine. “Gonna come, baby, fuck, you’re too perfect.”

You can hardly move and Wooyoung tries his best to help, using his grip on your hips to hold you still as he grinds weakly inside of you. It’s the smallest movement, but after this long, anything, even a breath ghosting across your lips, could push you over the edge. And that minimal movement does, your broken cry the only warning you can offer Wooyoung before your cunt squeezes him so tightly that Wooyoung comes dry.

Even as you come down from your high, your hips still move slightly, pulling a few more moans out of the two of you. You’re sure you both look a mess, but neither of you care, just letting your bodies relax and collapse onto the bed.

And just as long as it took you to come, it takes the two of you to regain enough energy to check in with each other.

“You good, baby?” you ask, your hands cupping Wooyoung’s face as you press your cheek against his. “It wasn’t too much?”

Wooyoung sighs, nuzzling further into you and throwing his leg over your hip. “It was a lot, but I like it that way,” he reassures you, pressing a wet kiss to your face. “How about you? I know domming that heavily can make you tired.”

You groan, arms moving around his waist and squeezing slightly. “Yeah. It’s good. You’re good.”

Wooyoung laughs. “Only for you, noona. Maybe we can make this a regular thing.”

Without looking, you just know he’s wriggling his eyebrows and you pinch his side, eliciting a laugh from him. “Mmh. We’ll talk about that later. For now, I want to nap and then clean all the dried come off me. Gross.”

Wooyoung snorts. “That’s not what you were saying when you were fucking me over and over.”

“Shut up. Sleep.”

#cultofdionysusnet #pirateeznet #red strong of fate <3 #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez wooyoung #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung fanfic #wooyoung fanfiction #wooyoung smut #kvanity #smut

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st4rb3rr13s · 10 months

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CEO!Eren head canons

Girl yesterday I had no motivation to write 😭😭 I still don’t so we just gonna do headcanons for now !!

CEO!Eren has NO hoes. I mean, yes many girls would try to get his number (for the money and the looks) but he’d always decline. He could always see right through them.

CEO!Eren’s day to day is very consistent. He first wakes up, gets ready before making coffee (straight up black coffee). He’ll go to work, go to the cafe near his practice for lunch before going back to work. When he gets off he orders Chinese food then watch’s a show before falling asleep.

CEO!Eren owns a hospital. It used to be owned by his father who retired shortly after Eren paid his student debts and got practice in the medical field.

CEO!Eren is very independent but forgets a lot of things. He has to have a planner and note books to write down all his information or he’ll forget it. He forgot a lunch with his mom once and got an ear full.

CEO!Eren never thought he’d fall in love with someone until he met you. (I already wrote how y’all met.(link))

CEO!Eren who doesn’t tell you his job at first and acts like he’s broke. He’ll sometimes even complain about how much money he spent that week just to play the act . (But some how pays for expensive dates and gifts for you?? Very sketchy.)

CEO!Eren who is scared when he tells you his job. He’s been used several times because of it, people being too nice and begged too much. He just doesn’t want to be used again.

CEO!Eren who invited you to his condo for it to come out. (You found out by his office, and it gave it away.) He was shocked when you never mentioned it and kept your same personality.

CEO!Eren who got into an argument with you over something little. He felt bad so he decided to send you dozens of roses so you could forgive him. (He also gave you dick but that’s for another time.)

CEO!Eren who praises you for the little things. You gifted him, his favorite drink?? He’s all over you. You made him a painting to put on his wall?? He can’t stop smiling at the painting. Anything you do for him, he’s obnoxious about. (He’d call Armin and tell him about it.)

CEO!Eren’s friend Armin who goes on double dates with you. His girlfriend is so sweet and loves talking to you. She gives you advice about how annoying people can be about the relationship and how to ignore it. (Armin owns an engineering company, owns a lot of buildings.)

CEO!Eren who takes you to parties, you two catch everyone’s eyes. (You two always look so classy)

CEO!Eren who’s world was changed when you showed him chai tea latte. He’d love how sweet it is and not so bitter. Honestly gives it a 10/10 and drinks only chai tea lattes.

CEO!Eren who loves sour foods. He’d love anything sour. Sour candy is his go to for long car rides. His favorite is sour skittles because they’re just so sour. If he doesn’t have to close his eyes because of how sour something is, it’s not for him.

CEO!Eren who loves watching shows with you. It’ll be you two’s show, and if you watch it without him, be prepared for “cheating” allegations. He’d say some stupid shi like “What round were y’all on, 9th, 10th?”

CEO!Eren who would make “cheating” allegations after not texting him back after 10 minutes. The first text message would be something like “Just got off of work, see you soon my love❤️” to “Hope you two are using protecting❤️” LIKE BITCH I WAS IN THE SHOWER??

CEO!Eren who would love to tease you about every little thing. You drop your phone? Ok clumsy. You trip? He’d be worried for a second before laughing his ass off. Nothing in this world makes him laugh harder than you.

CEO!Eren who is convinced on paying for everything. Especially when you move in. Everything is on him. Like yes, he wants you to keep your job, but he wouldn’t want you to spend your hard earned money. (Like nigga are you calling me broke??)

CEO!Eren who bought a house for his mom so she can be by herself once and a while. (Would not buy his dad a house because he doesn’t deserve it.)

CEO!Eren who can’t stop staring at you. He thinks your the prettiest thing he’s ever seen, how could he not stop staring at you?? You’re just gorgeous.

CEO!Eren who loves Cinnabon. He loves the lemonade from Cinnabon because it’s just so sour, and cinnamon buns would go so good with it. (Sometimes you wonder if he loves Cinnabon more than you(He always says Cinnabon is one, ur second))

CEO!Eren EATS. This nigga will eat so much and still be hungry. Eats off of your plate too if y’all are out. That “rich people don’t eat a lot” is bull shit to him. If he rich, he gonna eat. Point blank period.

CEO!Eren and his mom who works in a soup kitchen on Sundays. He likes giving back because his mother would tell him how hard she had to work for herself when she was younger, and ate out of a lot of soup kitchens.

CEO!Eren’s sister who teases the hell out of you two. You two are holding hands, and Mikasa sees. Mikasa, our girl? Oh nah y’all better stop doing that premarital shit.

CEO!Eren’s sister, Mikasa, who hates when someone makes a comment about you. You think Eren is mean?? His sister?? Oh lord. Don’t let someone talk bad about you in front of her, or she’s going off. And she does it in a classy way too, which makes it even worse. She’ll eat every time.

CEO!Eren who invests in stock so his children can be comfortable when they’re adults and when he’s long gone. (His stock worth is too high atp.)

CEO!Eren who goes on a shopping spree with you every month. He wants to do it more but is often busy. Anything you look at he’ll buy, even would buy a store at the mall to store your items if you asked.

I’m done. Hope y’all liked<3

#eren jaeger #eren yeager #eren x reader #eren aot #aot eren #aot x black reader #eren x black reader #snk x black reader #eren x y/n #aot x black y/n #snk x black yn #eren x black y/n #eren fluff #eren headcanons #st4rb3rr13s #st4rb3rr13s approved

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idollsin · 3 months

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˚ ༘ ೀ⋆ ִֶָ⁽ ⠀ basics ⠀ ⁾

STAGE NAME ﹕nakyung

BIRTH NAME ﹕nicole lee

KOREAN NAME ﹕lee nakyung

BIRTHDAY ﹕april 1, 2002

ZODIAC ﹕aries

BIRTHPLACE ﹕toronto, canada

ETHNICITY ﹕korean

NATIONALITY ﹕canadian

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆ ִֶָ⁽ ⠀ physical ⠀ ⁾

FACECLAIM ﹕kim haram of billlie

HEIGHT ﹕165cm (5’5”)

BLOOD TYPE ﹕a

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆ ִֶָ⁽ ⠀ career ⠀ ⁾

OCCUPATION ﹕idol soloist

COMPANY ﹕bbc entertainment (2015–2023) delphi entertainment (2023–)

GROUP ﹕loona (2016–2023)

UNIT ﹕yyxy (unofficial) (2016–2023)

FANDOM ﹕orbit (2018–2023) tba (2023–)

EMOJI ﹕🐦‍⬛

COLOR ﹕light blue #cde0fc

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆ ִֶָ⁽ ⠀ history ⠀ ⁾

cw brief mention of cancer

Nicole Lee was born on April 1, 2002 in Toronto, Canada to Angie Lee, a music teacher, and Joshua Lee, a baker. She is the middle child of an older brother, Daniel, and a younger sister, Lily. When she was twelve-years-old, her mother was diagnosed with leukemia. Her mother was laid off and her father’s job could not provide for a family of five and medical bills. With the encouragement from their family, the family moved to South Korea to have extra in person support.

As a loner with only a few friends in school, she didn’t have very much of a social life and mostly worked under the table jobs as a waitress to help pay for her mother’s medical bills. Her only solace from reality was music. Nicole, now going by Nakyung, was street casted by Blockberry Creative when she was 14. Despite her parents thinking it was sketchy and a cult was trying to recruit her, she went to the audition with her older brother, Daniel, when she was supposed to be at school and was accepted.

On April 14, 2018, Nakyung released her solo single album titled “Nakyung” with the title track “Sugarcoat.”

In 2023, after the dismissal of member Chuu, Nakyung terminated her contract with Blockberry Creative. She then signed a contract with Delphi Entertainment and debuted as a soloist on November 17, 2023 with “Really Like U!”

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crookedkryptonitebeliever · 4 months

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Best and Worst of Both Worlds (part 11)

Tw: reader got sick again lol this time to the ER, mentions of violence, kidnapping sequence, queerphobia from Monty

Damn guys i was expecting the other options to win but most of u guys wanted back to the university??

Vote down below guys, will start making the next chapter after 20 votes

Part 12

You decided to head to your university. They don't skimp on their snack budget, hence they provide the best snacks. You took the medicine that Yves paid for you before leaving the house.

Halfway through the bus ride though, you're starting to regret your choice. Your head and shoulders became extremely heavy and you feel like crap.

But it's too late to turn back now. The next bus is in an hour.

You stumbled out of the bus and rubbed your eyes. Yawning and scratching your back.

Bleary eyed, you started walking away from the station. Feeling like you're forgetting something, but you shrug it off. Thinking it should be in your bag.

Except, you didn't have your bag.

You gasped when you realized that you're not carrying anything behind you. But then relief washed over you when you realized that it's at home and not on the bus that's disappearing on the horizon. Then, that also means you left the door unlocked.

You sighed, sticking your hand in your pocket, planning to tell your housemates about it.

You pulled out a rectangular device and tried unlocking the screen.

Except there was no screen. Because it's not a smartphone, it's a power Bank.

That's right, Yves gave you his power bank to use indefinitely. You were charging it right next to your phone... what is wrong with you?

You groan, oh this is bad.

It's the 21st century, memorizing phone numbers is not the trend, you don't know what number to call aside from emergency services or your own. Maybe you remembered the numbers of your parents, but they're in another country. What could they do?

You took a deep breath. This is fine, you're in the university not some sketchy alleyway. You know the schedule of the next bus and if there's an emergency, you could just use a payphone to dial 911.

You have some cash on you and that's fine. You'll live, it's enough to pay for your bus fare.

So you walked, in a zombie-like way. You should have just rotted in bed, scrolling through your social media and burning your phone credits. But no, you just had to leave the house.

At least the weather is cool and the air is fresh. You continued walking, finally reaching past the entrance.

Everything feels severely foggy. You couldn't think straight, there were a couple times where you would stand in front of a potted plant and stare at it for minutes. Then you would snap yourself out of it and walk away. God knows what medication it was, you just took it as per the pharmacist's instructions. You're sure it's playing a part in your current incapable state.

You rubbed your eyes and whined. Pacing around, finding a hard time to figure out what to do. Your head hurts and your entire body isn't cooperating with what your brain is signalling. Your brain isn't even working with you.

What did you just eat? Did you accidentally poison yourself with the wrong pills?

Through your bleary eyes, you spotted a tall figure jogging up to you. But your lowered inhibitions prevented you from feeling alarmed, you just want to rest at home.

"Hey, hey, stop that." You felt someone gently grabbing your wrists, stopping you from rubbing your now red eyes. "Are you alright?"

It's Montgomery. He's kneeling to your level and staring deep into your eyes, his massive hands holding your head in place as he inspect you.

"What's up with you?" He asked, you're still processing what, or who, you're looking at.

"Damn, what did he do to you? You're all drugged up!" He scrambled to get back up on his feet. "C'mon, sweetheart. Let's get you to a doctor."

Confused and afraid, you tried protesting but Montgomery ended up carrying you bridal-style. You tried screaming for help, but he hushed you.

"Shh... it's okay, it's okay. I'm not gonna drop ya'. You're as light as a feather!" He cooed. "I got ya', you don't have to worry 'bout a thing, I'll take care of you, I'll save ya' from that bastard."

He stuffed you into his back seat, laying you down on your back. You shrieked when he climbed atop and straddled your hips, but he's only doing that to fluff the pillow under your head. The man got off and tucked you under his blanket, he then secured you with both seatbelts so you wouldn't roll off when he drives.

"Bend your knees for me, darlin'. I can't shut the door with your legs juttin' out!"

You refused and kept screaming, hoping that someone could help you. Which made Montgomery uncomfortable, not because he thinks you're scared of him, because he thinks you're in pain.

"Shh... I know, I know. I'll make it all better. I promise, you just have to hold out for a little longer, okay?" He gripped onto your calves and pushed them into the car. Immediately after, he shut the car door and dashed to the driver's seat.

You tried unbuckling yourself and unlocking the door, but you're at a severe disadvantage since you're still severely disorientated. You gave up when the car started speeding away from the venue.

Through your haziness, you managed to ask why he's in the university.

"I was hopin' to find ya', and I did. You're lucky I spotted you before some other creeps did! They'd snatch you right up and you couldn't fight back 'cause you're all doped up!"

It's unbelievable that he didn't realize that he was describing himself.

You asked how he knew to find you at six in the morning.

"Well, I remember when I had to go to school. I had classes at 7AM, my folks came an hour early while I came an hour late. 'Cause I was helping out with the farm. I don't reckon you have a farm to help out on. Do ya?" Such solid reasoning comes from the maniac himself.

You asked him what happened yesterday after he was escorted out, not realizing that he would take your curiosity as a concern for his wellbeing, and hence another declaration of your love.

"Aww is someone worried about me? I'm fine, that fucking queer roughed me up a lil'. But he played dirty, bet that asshole won't have the balls to get in a fair fight with me. Bless your heart for witnessing all the ugly. But I'm here now, I'll keep you safe from that monster. What did he do to ya'?"

You wanted to tell him that Yves is your boyfriend and Montgomery is the monster in your eyes. But immediately zipped your mouth closed because you're unsure as to how he is going to react to that, you can't take him on normally, let alone sick and potentially drugged.

"Sweetheart?" He glanced at you through his rearview mirror. You tried speaking, but you found that your tongue was too swollen for you to say anything. Drool dribbled down your chin as you found it increasingly harder to breathe.

"What the fuck..." He muttered under his breath before switching up his tone to calm you down. "I-it's fine! It's gonna be okay, baby. Just... think of the Lord. He'll get us through this!" You heard the whirring of his engine grow louder as he floored the gas pedal.

You wish Yves is here. He would have known what to do.

You took the biggest gasp of your life, greedily sucking in the air as it rushes into your lungs. You winced as the searing light stabbed your strained eyes, and sounds of people chattering, beeping, and rushing reached your ears. Coldness nipped at your skin and you felt something attached to your face. The air smelled of iodoform, and you coughed and hacked as everything was overwhelming you.

Finally, you managed to focus and process where you are.

"Mx Joe?"

Who?

"Mx Joe, can you hear me?" You turned your head to the side, the pillow slightly blocking your view. You saw a woman in scrubs and a pair of gloves, next to her were other nurses rushing the code cart to other patients in the room.

You looked at the rubber oxygen mask strapped to your face. Your thigh felt sore and tender, and then you realized why when you saw another nurse nearby holding an empty syringe.

The woman began introducing herself as a medical resident, you didn't pay attention when she told you her name. Soon after, she began explaining how you got here.

She said that your partner brought you in; unconscious, swollen as if you were stung by an army of bees and unable to breathe. You had an allergic reaction to something you consumed, inhaled, or touched. She asked if you ate anything you suspected could be the culprit a few hours ago.

The pill. You must be allergic to the medication.

You and she went back and forth, answering all the relevant questions she asked you. This time you told her your real name and true details. All she did was note it down in her clipboard without asking further questions as to why Montgomery gave her a fake name.

She did a couple more tests to make sure you didn't suffer from other complications. Once she deemed you healthy enough, she sent you on your way to be discharged, the ER is too busy for you to linger there any longer than necessary.

Another nurse wheelchaired you out of the Emergency department and into the waiting room, where Montgomery was there nervously fiddling with his hands while waiting for you.

"Joe!" He exclaimed before running towards you. "God, I was so damn worried! What the hell happened to them?" Montgomery asked the nurse, his hands squished your face into a compressed chunk.

You were reminded once again, Yves's soft touches are superior.

"They had an allergic reaction to a drug prescribed to treat their nausea. They're fine." The nurse turned to you. "Get some rest and drink enough fluids. You're going to feel tired, but that is to be expected. Any questions?"

You looked at Montgomery and he stared at you back.

You were contemplating whether you should scream for help. But... if it wasn't for him, you would be dead. If the police are involved, he will surely go to jail this time. And, you don't exactly feel comfortable ruining his life after he saved yours.

He's mentally deranged, but so far you think he wouldn't cause too much harm to you.

You slowly shook your head and prayed that you wouldn't regret your decision to not snitch on him.

"Alright. That will be all." The nurse told Montgomery the directions to the payment counters.

He began pushing you in your wheelchair with him.

"What a week, huh?" He tried to lighten the mood, but you're as somber as ever. Badly yearning for your phone and Yves's wallet, this is going to be a death sentence for your wallet.

You're dreading your turn. This is not going to end well for you, you can't call anyone aside from your parents who are on another continent. You wished that you memorized Yves's number.

When your name is called, Montgomery didn't react. It was called the second time, and you hesitantly brought your hands to the wheels. He grabbed your wrist.

"Hey, whatcha' doing?"

The receptionist called your name again. You sighed, coming clean that your name isn't Joe M. To your surprise, he wasn't shocked or upset, all he did was stand up and walk towards the counter.

You stretched your neck, trying to gain vantage over the sea of sick people. Montgomery took out a tattered, leather wallet from the back pocket of his work pants. You saw his eye widen momentarily and he seemed to be arguing with the receptionist about something. In the end, he swiped his slightly chipped debit card on the machine. He looked uneasy as he keyed in his PIN number on the card reader.

He collected the receipt before stuffing it into his wallet. Montgomery walked back with a bittersweet smile.

You asked him how much it was.

"Don't worry about it, honey. I'm just glad yer' fine."

You said that he didn't have to pay for you. You could do it yourself.

"Oh yeah? You and with what money? You shouldn't be thinkin' 'bout money troubles at this age. You should be focusin' on gettin' that degree!" He laughed, ruffling your hair. "Any respectable boyfriend would pay for his partner's bills!"

You told him that he isn't your boyfriend.

"Sure, sweetheart." He dismissed you as he grabbed the handles of your wheelchair. You stopped him and said you could walk. Before he could react to that, you used all your might to stand up, mildly stumbling around a bit before finding your balance. He stuck his arms around you, ready to catch if you were to fall.

"Y'know, you shouldn't push yourself too hard. I'm pretty sure the hospital is gonna let us borrow this till' the exit." You began walking away. More like limping.

"H-hey! Wait up!" He jogged to catch up with you.

He wrapped his arm around your waist and urged you in another direction.

"I parked this way, c'mon." He rested his hand on the small of your back. It's a little too far down for comfort and you didn't like how he would rub you.

His idea of "sick people's food" is something people eat to get sick.

But you're starving at this point, so you're scarfing down an English muffin breakfast sandwich. Letting the grease coat your fingers and the yolk covers your face, it's a messy ordeal.

"I gotta bring you out to eat more..." Mumbled Montgomery as he watched you devour two of the same sandwiches. He developed a newfound distaste for Yves on top of his strong, existing ones. Montgomery is disgusted that Yves didn't even have the decency to feed "his love". What kind of man let's his beloved starve like this? Definitely not Montgomery.

He only got three bites in and you're now stealing his hash browns. You don't know where you are, this was the first time visiting the hospital. All you know is that he's currently parked in a fast food joint's free parking lot.

It's a seven-minute drive from the hospital. You looked at the built-in clock on his radio.

10:59AM. You have an hour left to get home before Yves arrives and potentially causes a catastrophe.

"So... (name)." You watched him from the corner of your eyes. "What was up with Joe M.?"

You gulped. You said it was an inside joke.

"Well, what is it?" You told him it would ruin the joke.

"Keep your secrets then." He took another bite out of his meal.

You and he ate in silence, mostly him. You were somewhat noisy because you didn't bother closing your mouth when chewing.

"Relax, it's not gonna run away." He chuckled as you stuffed your face with more of the sandwich. Montgomery bought 6 in total, expecting to eat 4 of them. But in reality, he only got to eat 2.

"Y'know, you don't have to do all that for money." You looked at him, waiting for him to elaborate on what he meant.

"I know those wealthy bastards, they go after pretty young things like you and suck your youth from ya' like vampires. It ain't worth it."

You forced a giant chunk of unchewed food down your throat.

"H-hey don't do that! You're gonna choke!" He patted your back as you coughed.

You asked in between hacks if he's talking about Yves.

"Is that what his name is? But yeah, I'm talkin' about him."

You asked him if he thinks you're prostituting yourself.

"No! I- I mean- I don't know, I was thinkin' more of the sugar baby line of work. It ain't necessarily mean you gotta be bumpin' uglies in the bedroom- you don't seem like the type. But I sure do know he ain't got ya best interests at heart." He explained.

You brought your arm up to wipe your mouth with your sleeve. But This time, he was prepared. He held your arm and pushed a napkin to your chin. He took the liberty to clean your face up for you.

You definitely preferred Yves's gentle touch over Montgomery's brutish ones.

"He ain't good for you, (name). Trust me on this." You tried to pull away from his rigorous wiping, but he held your head in place with the other hand.

"Folks from back home were deceived by men like these. They come to the city lookin' to build a better future. Then a wealthy man came along, makin' promises that he can't keep in exchange for their souls." He released you, taking the dirtied tissue with him. Montgomery placed it on his dashboard, planning to dispose of it later.

"...and guess what, those men left them high and dry. They lost their money, their body and their minds. Now, my folks aren't city dwellers, we're from the countryside, they didn't know any better. I know you ain't from here too."

You asked Montgomery what made him think that way.

"You have a heart of gold and hands of sand. Folks born and raised here are damn sadists with a pair of soft hands. Ain't none of them picked a field rake up before."

You said don't think you picked up a field rake in your life either.

"That ain't the point, I'm sayin' you don't blend in with the rest of these fuckin' pricks. And you're attractin' trouble like this Sugar Daddy of yours."

There is no point in trying to correct him. You just nodded in acknowledgement.

He held both of your hands in his, enveloping them tightly into a ball. It hurts a bit.

"Please, darlin'. I beg of you, stay away from him. He's gonna break your heart and I sure hell don't want to see my baby in tears. I will treat you right, be with me and you ain't gotta worry 'bout a thing. I'm gonna feed you, drive you around and buy you stuff you always wanted." He pressed your hands against his cheek, with Montgomery's stubble scratching your palm.

"Please? Could you stop seeing him for me, please, sweetheart? I'll treat you so much better than that monster. I will take care of you." He crooned, placing a kiss or two on your hands. You grimaced when you felt the wetness of his saliva on your skin.

He is insane. You looked around for a possible opportunity to escape, but there isn't any.

You glanced at the clock.

It says 11:29AM.

Montgomery realizes what you're looking at and connected the pieces. He lets go of your hands and begins tidying up around him

"You have class, don'tcha'? I'll get you back to school. But... I think ya' oughta' listen to the doctor and rest at home. You were damn near seeing the pearly gates today." He buckled his seat belt and reignited his engine.

You wince as you hear the car roar back to life.

You thought about the different possible scenarios that could happen. You're thankful that he didn't realize it's your semester break now.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere male #yandere concept #tw yandere #yandere x you #yandere oc x reader #male yandere oc x reader #oc yves #oc Montgomery #tw queerphobia #tw injury

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hallucinateonpaperspines · 25 days

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what would happen if Ashley ended up in gotham, DC universe ?

You. You are my favorite person of the day.

Honestly, DC is so big and extensive, that I'm going to limit this to Gotham for the sake of my mental sanity. Unlike Tim Drake, I do have a caffeine limit that no number of red strings and corkboards can alter.

Just for fun, Ashlyn won't know anything beyond a casual viewer. No OP knowledge here.

How she's here is anyone's guess, some dimensional mishmashary thinning the lines between universes, some ancient relic that a villain didn't quite know what it was for before they used it, or maybe Constantine finally pushed the line too far. Maybe it was a combination of all the above.

Either way, Ashlyn's here now :)

It's quite the discombobulating experience, stumbling out of a snow-capped forest only to find yourself in the middle of a city that looks like the child of Chicago and New York going through a goth phase.

Eventually, she finds herself at a storefront. The window display has attracted a small crowd of people, as she can just make out the tell-tale glow of digital lights peaking out between silhouettes. Slipping through, Ashlyn weaves her way to the front and is met by a display of several TVs hidden behind bulletproof glass.

GOTHAM CITY NEWS! Seven heads were recently dropped off at the Gotham City Police Department. Who is this killer and what will their theme be? Breaking News: The Joker is at large, still no leads on how he escaped Arkham Asylum again. Please report suspicious clown activity, and keep gas masks on your person at all times. Join us later at 5 for-

Ashlyn bangs her head on the bullet-proof glass for a minute. A few people walk by a tiny bit faster, but for the most part, Gothamites continue on with their days.

It's the cold that gets her moving, no sense in freezing to death.

Honestly, Ashlyn fits into Gotham pretty well. Sketchy people are rather common, so her lacking any proper ID is overlooked and getting some fakes is stupidly easy. Her nonchalance towards the violence and slight PTSD over weirdly specific situations isn't uncommon either. Ashlyn gets mistaken as a Gotham native regularly, and quiet a few people are shocked when her accent doesn't match what her behavior presents.

Of course, the blending in doesn't last for long.

It starts with her neighbor. He's disturbingly quiet. Which would be fine if his apartment did stink of blood and guns and the walls weren't thin enough that she could hear every scream in the odd hours of the morning.

Ashlyn never sees him, not particularly surprising given the type of people this derelict building attracts. She's not judging, she's here too, but it just wouldn't be surprising if the pookie-bear next door is a snitch on the run. Or a serial killer.

She starts leaving cookies outside the door after the really loud days. It's a neighborly thing to do. She's not soft.

The world feels a little brighter when some bread is left outside hers.

... Dang it. She's going soft.

Que this weird shuffling of baked goods that gradually graduate to small meals being left out. It's the battle of returning the Tupperware and neither is going to return it empty.

Oddly enough, she doesn't see her neighbor's face during these exchanges. No, that update comes when she's reading out on her crummy balcony (it's late, the power has been cut again, so it's just her, a ratty book, and a circle of candles) and she looks up to see some dork pulling themselves up to her neighbor's side.

A book projectile later, a quick convo to straighten out the details, and a returned (blessedly indented) book later, all is well and silent. They are never going to mention this event again... other than giving the side eye and sometimes crawling over to help with medical emergencies she doesn't mention it. At all.

Ashlyn Moore can keep a secret. That's what initially flags Jason Todd's attention.

Of course, the entire Batfam gets pulled in after videos of the same woman surface. Ashlyn is gaining a viral reputation, smack-talking the Joker and pointing out that his goons were patsies in his bank heist, asking Poison Ivy for tips for her herb garden, joining Harley in psychoanalyzing commentary on a hostage situation, and always being weirdly calm yet feral civilian witness.

As a fun "training" attempt, bets are placed on who this strange, Gotham but not Gotham person is. By the end of it, Drake does have a red string board and it's covered in drawn-out question marks. Nightwings gets heart palpitations every time he rescues this girl and she is like "Eh, not my first zombie attack, he's less than a story tall the wimp," or "Hurt? Yeah I'm pretty sure I've got compression fractures on ribs 7 through 9. Maybe a sprained wrist... oh and a laceration on my calf, but I can hobble run so I'm fine!" or "that's a very sad clown, I've seen a spider with a scarier smile. It glowed. Literally glowed from all that acid."

The situation is not improved when Constantine shows up panicking because some dimensional entity is here but hasn't done anything, so when it does something it's not going to be good.

It gets even worse when she accidentally calls Red Hood "Jason."

#ao3 author #ao3 #ashlyn moore (oc)#what if #Gotham!Au #jason todd #red hood #batfam

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small-sinclair · 1 year

Note

Hi I love your Sinclairs Brothers X reader oneshots and I was wondering if I could make a request of poly Sinclair Brothers X reader where the reader wants to have a baby and they ask the Sinclair Brothers if they want a baby as well and I was wondering if it could be fluff with a slight angst it's upto you have a lovely day/night ☺️

Of course!

It'll be a bit angsty but it'll have a happy ending! I'll have this as an a/b/o prompt because I love writing those! I love the Sinclairs as that :3 . Didn't like how this turned out, though, but let me know if you liked it!

a/b/o Sinclairs x fem!reader

Tw: Reader is not a wolf, sexal activities mentioned, infertile reader

Welcomed reader: @sketchy-rosewitch

After getting married to all three, you were trying to create a family.

At first, Bo was so excited that you wanted a child. He lifted you up and spun you around, kissing you all over. He loved the idea of having a family and kids running around the house and yard. Growing a pack was a life long dream!

Then you asked Vincent, and he didn't act like his twin. He was hesitant with the idea of being a father, and it scared him. What if his children couldn't look at him with the same love as he has for them? What if he ended up like Trudy? Then he saw your smile and you telling him about different baby names, and his heart warmed to the idea. Much like his brother, having a little pack of his own and watch them grow... it didn't sound that bad.

Finally, you asked Lester, and he was blushy and gushy. He thought you were joking, but when you told him about your dream of having a lot of kids, he was over the moon. He thought he would be a good father, be something his own parents weren't. He liked the idea of teaching his kids how to hunt and fish, to survive in the forest without needing help.

At the end, the Sinclair Pack was all ready to become a larger family, and you were nothing but excited.

You've been trying for months on end with the brothers. Every month, week, day; whenever they were in heat, when you felt the mood with one of them, when they felt the mood with you; taking pain, pleasure, both, soft, rough, a bit of everything; quick or long-- you tried. Tired and tried and tried, but nothing worked. Every time you thought it was it, nothing happened. But still, you tried. All of you tried.

Then a feeling came over you when you looked back on your family history, and you hoped you were wrong. If you're wrong, then there has to be something more you can do! If your right... how are you going to tell Bo? He always wanted to be a father! How are you going to tell Vincent? He always wanted to rock his child to sleep during thunderstorms! How are you going to tell Lester? He always wanted to teach his kid how to fish and hunt!

The blanket forts, the sleepovers, the school events, the report cards, soccer and baseball games-- all of it was slipping through your fingers like sand in an hour glass.

Please, be wrong, y/n. You have to be wrong, you thought to yourself as you sat in the Gynecologist's office in a blue and white medical dress. You had your hands folded as you looked at the posters of mothers and babies. I want to be wrong.

You told Bo that you'll be in town to get something, and you weren't lying. You came for town for a doctor's appointment and strawberries from the farmer's market. You didn't want to tell them that you'll be here because you were afraid of what they might do, and you don't think they needed to be here for this. If it's nothing, then you shouldn't worry, right? You have to keep trying over and over until... you just want a family, your own little pack.

The sound of the door clicking snapped your thoughts, and you looked up hopeful as the female doctor entered. "Hello, y/n," she said sweetly. "I'm Dr. Haley. How are you doing today?" IN her hands, she had a large paper packet and a clipboard. You knew what was going to be said before her words came, and your words started to crumble.

And so it begins.

***************

Bo's leg never stopped bouncing as he looked at the clock. He saw the truck coming back from town, but you didn't stop. He could smell something off as the truck kicked up dust in the wind, the breeze carrying your scent down hill to the open garage doors. He knew Vincent could smell it because he poked his head up from the basement tunnel, signing at him in questions and wonders.

"I don't know, Vince," Bo answered looking back at the house. "I didn't do anythin' to her... she just came back like this." He looked back at Vincent, who had his arms crossed, nodding up to the house. Bo closed his eyes and lowered his head. "Text Les and tell 'im t'get 'ere. I got a feelin' 'is is an everyone problem."

And he wasn't wrong as he got closer to the house.

He paused in his tracks as he looked at the home, and his stomach started to turn as he started to smell pain mixed with anxiety.

He could hear your muffled cried from upstairs from outside, making him and Vincent freeze in there tracks. They looked at each other then sprinted the last block towards the house, your sobs burning like sharp whiskey in the back of the throat. On the other side of town, they heard Lester's truck speeding up as if he could hear you from the other end. Bo didn't like this smell as he bolted up the porch steps growing stronger, and he nearly ripped the door off its hinges, again.

Vincent looked around the living room, hearing Lester's truck dying in the drive and his boots crunching the gravel. Bo's head snapped up at the steps and started towards your room. Lester's heart hammered in his chest as he listened to your cries, and it tore the Beta apart. He felt lost and confused, but that all changed when fear took over. Did he do something to upset you? Is this his fault? It didn't help that the twins were thinking the same thing, nervous and fear mixing together in an unholy concoction.

The brothers' boots echoed up the steps like an army storming through the house, Lester taking the lead somehow. If you weren't crying, you would yell at them to take their boots off at the door, but you hugged Bo's pillow as you wore Lester's gator shirt and Vincent's sweatpants.

"Darlin'?" Lester asked, not bothering to knock as he entered the room. "Why are you crying? What's wrong? What happened--?"

Bo pipped up from behind. "Who do we gotta kill? Who's gonna die?"

You tied to look up at them but looked back at Bo's pillow. His kids would've loved pillow fights--

You let out a loud sob, causing your Alphas to cringe at the noise, the Beta's eyes falling over you.

This was breaking their hearts as they filed in one by one, each taking their place on the bed: Lester near your stomach on the left, Vincent on your left, and Bo on your right. Bo takes the pillow from you and tossed it behind him. He pulled you up to lay against his chest. Lester sat up and wiped your tears away, his heart breaking with every fat teat that touched his fingers. Vincent smoothed your hair and arm, bringing you hand up to his waxed lips. The urge to protect you from these three grew louder and larger, their desire to keep you from the horrors outside the town.

What happened, sunshine? Vincent signed against your skin. What went wrong?

You got your breathing back to normal, your hand finding Vincent's once more. You swallowed hard and let out a shaky breath. "I went to town today and got strawberries."

"That's good," Bo said, his fingers brushing through your hair. He tried his best to remain calm, the worse running through his head.

"And I went to the gynecologist's afterwards," you squeezed Vincent's hand.

Lester's eyes blinked, his head going empty. "The what?" he asked, lifting his brow.

Bo answered for you. "It's where a woman doctor looks over the female body."

It didn't hit Lester at first, and he blinked a couple times. He's so cute when his mind has to go over words again. After a while, it hits him. "Oh! Oh, okay, okay." He looks at you. "Go on."

The scent of mixture anxiety and fear circled and hit the three like a freight train. Vincent leaned against your neck and nuzzled against the nook, trying to mask that smell with his. The smile burned his eyes and they started to water. The smell soaked through his mask, making his skin burn, but he didn't move. He wanted you to be comforted as his little human, his little muse.

Bo followed Vincent's lead, kissing your hair then up and down your right arm, taking in the smell as he tried to mask it with his own. "Tell us... what happened? Y/n, sweetheart," Bo kisses your ring finger, the promise ring he gifted you as a mark of his, "tell me."

You take a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I can't have kids."

"No one's ready for kids," Bo answered. "Kids just kinda happen."

"No, Bo." You felt yourself chocking up again. "I can't have kids. I physically can't have them." You looked in his eyes as you felt tears falling again. "I'm infertile. Something's-something's wrong with me." You sobbed out the last part as you hugged him tightly, breaking all of their hearts. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry that-that I'm use-useless now-!"

Lester hugged your side tightly as the twins covered you in their arms, all three holding you close. "Ya ain't useless," Lester said as he tried not to cry with you. "Who told ya 'at? Who said 'at?" When he heard you cry, he started crying, too. He wished he could take your pain from you.

"Ain't useless," Bo conformed, kissing your hair. "Never been useless. Far from it, y/n--"

"But-but you and Vince and Les want-want a family--"

"You are our family," Bo stopped your words hard. "You've been our family since you got here!" He felt Vincent tighten his arms around his brother and you, burying his face into your shirt. "We don't need kids to be one."

Lester nodded in agreement. "Yeah!" He wipes his tears away. "You are family. We-we don't need a kid to make-make one."

Vincent makes a noise in the back of his throat, his arms running over your other arm to your shoulder. 'You are far from useless, my muse. You are the glue to this little pack.' He leans close to you and kisses your cheek with is real lips, tasting salty tears. 'We love you. I love you!'

Bo kisses your neck then your lips. "It's okay, y/n. It'll be okay."

"But, you wanted--"

"I want you to be happy," he answered for himself. "I want to care fer ya an' love ya an' protect ya. Shit," he gestured around him, "we all want that."

Lester took your hands and kissed over your knuckles. "An' if ya want a family wit' kids an' all, shot," he flashed you a bright, loving smile, "I don' mind adoptin'!"

'Your heart makes this a family, a pack,' Vincent planted another kiss over your skin. 'Not children.'

Bo repeated his words against your skin, "You are our family," he planted a kiss to make the words stick. "Nothin' an' no one will change that. Fertile or not." He placed your hair behind your ear. "You're my home."

"Our home." Lester kissed your knuckles again.

'Our pack,' Vincent signed as he leaned against your neck.

As the sunsets over the dead town, you were safe between your alphas and beta, there arms holding you close as they talked over anything and everything. You don't know what they saw in you or why they wanted you around, but you're thankful for them. They were your family, and they were yours.

#house of wax #bo sinclair #lester sinclair #vincent sinclair #house of wax 2005 #house of wax (2005)#house of wax fanfiction #house of wax fanfic #bo sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #lester sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x y/n #vincent sinclair x y/n #lester sinclair x y/n #a/b/o prompt #a/b/o fic #cliff answers

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absurdthirst · 2 years

Text

Life After the Green {Ezra x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 17.7k

Warnings: Drugging, kidnapping, forced confinement, physical violence, beatings, threats of death, threats of bodily harm/amputation, forced breeding, oral sex, vaginal sex, fingering, pregnancy, non/dub con due to nature of fic

Comments: Answering an ad that seems like it was Kevva sent, sends you straight into hell. Told you must copulate with a stranger until you are pregnant, you resist until you learn how brutal they can be. Now it’s just a matter of when and if you will escape this place with your life.

A/N: This does include instances of forced breeding/baby birthing rings. If this subject matter is not for you, please bypass.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

You shiver, the sidewalk is cold beneath you, and you pull your jacket tighter around your body as people pass by, not even noticing your presence. Not a credit to your name, no place to live. You've run out of opportunities in the local shelters, so you're on your own. An expensive pair of leather shoes enters your eye line, and you look up to see the well groomed man looking down at you. He shifts to bend down to your level, a card in his hand. "Do you want credits?" He asks.

You nod, "yes. Please."

He holds the card out, "go to this address. They can help you get on your feet. We are looking to help get people off of the streets."

Ezra stares at the board, his sigh heavy and his prospects dim. There wasn’t a lot of use for a man who had lost his dominant hand in most of the jobs that were available. Not to mention he hadn’t had much time to start acclimating to his new path in life. Cee had left, promising to be back but he wasn’t willing to live off her generosity. The credits they had received for the ship they had taken from the Green wouldn’t last forever. Looking down, he sees one advert. It looks sketchy but he’s desperate, deciding that he would go to the address and see what was involved in ‘Easy work!’.

You look up, double checking the address to make sure you have the right place, before you knock on the door. It’s opened and a woman smiles at you, gesturing for you to enter. You sit down in the cubicle she guides you to, and you work on filling out the form. It’s the usual - date of birth, place of birth, identification number. Then it gets strange. Asking about medical history. If you’ve been pregnant before. How regular your periods are. You fill it out before you ask her why you need to give that information.

“It’s a part of our standard medical screening.” She smiles and motions to the questionnaire. “So many that are down on their luck have health problems they aren’t even aware of.” She tells you. “This is just to help you get any needed treatment you need.” She takes the clipboard from you. She types everything into the computer, and then she smiles at you. “Come with me. Let’s get you some new clothes she says, and you grin, happy to have seemingly passed and be out of the threadbare clothes you have. You follow her into a room, frowning when you see it’s empty, and when you spin around, she sticks you in the neck with a needle. You gasp, arms raised to try and fight but your eyes roll into the back of your head as you pass out.

Ezra groans, coming to and looking around the room that he has been stuck in for days as the lock sounds and the door swings open. “Come out.” The armed guard barks, his weapon held threateningly as Ezra climbs to his feet from the small cot.

“If I may be so bold-“ Ezra has learned they don’t like him talking, quickly reaffirmed when the guard lifts his weapon.

“Shut up and move!” He desperately wishes for his dominant hand to be returned, knowing that he would not be in this predicament if he was whole. Instead, he shuffles forward and walks out of the room to a desolate hall. “Move forward.” The thrower at his back prods him forward and he starts walking down the hall, unsure of what is to come, if they have decided they will not use him for their nefarious schemes.

You groan, blinking and wincing at the bright light. Your head hurts, and you try to sit up. You grunt, looking around the room, and you tilt your head when you see the lack of furniture. Just a bed. You try to remember what happened. Shifting to stand up on shaky legs, and your eyes widen when you remember being drugged. “Hey.” You stumble over to the door. “Hey! Let me - let me out. Where the fuck am I? Let me the fuck out!” You scream, slamming your fists on the door.

The guard stops Ezra outside of a room where someone is banging and screaming to be let out. Obviously someone who has just awoken to their predicament. The guard orders Ezra to stand against the wall while he unlocks the door, pushing the woman back at the urging of his weapon and ordering Ezra into the room. “You know what to do.” He tells Ezra before he closes the door and locks the two into the room together.

You back up at the sight of the thrower and a man enters the room, his hands up. Your back hits the wall and your heart pounds as the door is slammed behind him, the lock clinking. “Who are you?” You ask, shaking in fear as you try to process everything. “Where the fuck am I?” You glance around the room. He steps closer and you narrow your eyes. “Get the fuck away from me!” You growl.

Ezra stops, lifting his one hand lifted and his eyes wide as he tries to convey he means you no harm. You remind him of a frightened animal, ready to lash out and attack from fear. “Little birdie, I mean you no harm.” He promises. “I must apologize for intruding into your personal sanctuary, though as you can see, it was not by choice.” He tells you, watching you look around quickly before re-centering your attention on him.

“Where am I?”

Ezra shakes his head. “I am not certain myself, although I believe that we are beyond the doors of the establishments that brought us here. I answered an ad for work.”

You stare in shock at the one armed man. Still wary of him as you stare at him. "I - I was given a card by a man with nice shoes. Said he could help get me off of the streets. This - what is this place? Why - why am I wearing this?" You tug on the loose gown and you frown at him. "What are we doing this?" You ask him, hoping he has at least some answers to your questions.

He sighs and motions for you to sit down on your bed again. “It is an arduous tale, little birdie.” He warns you, looking around the room even though he knows you are alone for now. “This is for all intents and purposes, a birthing facility.” He explains. “It seems you and I have been paired together to copulate and produce a child to be auctioned off to the highest bidder.” He huffs. “It’s a breeding factory, birdie.”

Your eyes widen. “What - you mean they want us to- fuck. I- I don’t understand.” You frown. “Am I supposed to carry a child and birth it before they - they take it. And with you- what happens if I say no?” You ask, certain that you don’t want to do this. You want to leave now.

Ezra winces, lifting up his shirt to show you a deep bruise across his torso. “The response I was given to my gracious refusal.” He tells you. “I have also been told that they will not hesitate to remove my remaining arm, as long as my cock is intact.”

Your eyes widen even more, “surely they do not wish to harm us if we are to-”

Ezra cuts you off. “As long as our reproductive organs are functioning and you can survive through pregnancy and birth, then we do not have need for our limbs.” He tells you, making you feel sick.

“Have you- have you bred anyone in here?” You ask, needing to know if he is opposed or willing to go along with their scheme.

Ezra shakes his head, looking towards the door. “I cannot be precisely accurate with how long I have been here, but I have not been with anyone else. Beyond the beating and the introduction into my role here, you are the first person I have conversed with.”

You nod, believing him and you sigh, “well I’m sorry but I don’t want to have sex with you. I don’t know you and I- I have an implant anyway.” You tell him, reaching for the hem of your gown and you pull it up to your hip, squeaking at both finding yourself without underwear and the bandage over the space where your implant was located. “Bastards.” You hiss, getting annoyed again. “I need to get out of here.” You rush over to the door, slamming your fists on it. “Let me out, you motherfuckers. I’m not a fucking breeding machine. Open up! I want out!”

Ezra chuckles and shakes his head. “It’s no use, Birdie.” He comments, coming over to your bunk and sitting down. “They don’t care if you want to or not. It’s this or a bolt in your brain if you make too much of a fuss. Or amputating a limb.” He shudders. “I wish to keep the remaining ones I possess.”

You turn to face him. “So what? You just want to - want me to fuck you. Are you just some pervert who wants to fuck? I’m not going to get pregnant. I can barely look after myself and I’m not bringing a child into this world just to give them to the highest bidder who happens to be a freak who auctions on babies!” You shriek. “Im not - I won’t do it. I’m sorry.” You tell him, content to lose a limb if need be. You won’t sell your body for a hot meal. You never have, not matter how hard it gets.

Ezra sighs and nods, understanding how you feel. “I truly admire your resolve, Birdie.” He tells you, standing up and rolling his head around to loosen up the knots in his shoulders. “Then we will lose another limb. Perhaps they will stick with digits as opposed to entire limbs.” He jokes weakly, a grim smile on his face.

You know he’s serious. Fear overtakes you and you can’t help the sob that makes its way up your throat. You stumble over to the bunk, falling onto it as you mourn your future. You have no clue if you’ll survive this. They could rip you apart piece by piece until nothing remains and then toss you aside. Like you never existed. Tears stream down your cheeks and Ezra awkwardly stands there, unsure of what to do.

Ezra rubs the back of his neck and looks around, wishing he knew what to say. But there is nothing. These people are ruthless. “Easy birdie.” He murmurs, shifting over to sit down on the edge of the cot. “I’ll not touch you.” He promises. “No matter what they do to me, you have my word - as little as it might mean. But I assure you, I have done terrible things, however I draw the line at forcing my attention on someone.”

Your sobs die down when you look at him. “Really?” You choke. He nods, making you exhale shakily in relief. “Thank you.” You sniff, wiping your eyes. “I’m sorry. I- I am sure you would rather have sex, even in these circumstances, with a woman less…snotty.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “It has been a while since I had the pleasure of spending my time with a woman. I’ve been…preoccupied. My arm…it hinders my ability to - to make love as vigorously as I once did.” He confesses. His words make your heart clench.

“What happened to your arm? If they didn’t take it…” You trail off.

“An unfortunate run of luck on the Green moon.” Ezra tells you. “I was fortunate to survive at all, I wouldn’t if it had not been for my charge. A little girl who had the bad deal of having a thief for a father.” Ezra’s voice hardens slightly as he recalls how Damon had put his daughter at risk for the pitiful haul Ezra had accumulated. “An injury from a thrower bolt, fired by my daring Cee, turned septic and forced the removal of my arm.”

You wince, unable to believe he survived that, and the way he speaks of the little girl makes you feel more comfortable. A fiend wouldn’t speak of a little girl like that. You reach for his hand, wanting to feel connected to him in an otherwise sterile environment. “I’m sorry we’re here.” You tell him.

He chuckles, shaking his head while squeezing your hand. “You aren’t at fault, birdie.”

You sigh, shaking your head. “No but - but I’m sorry all the same. I don’t want them to hurt you. Or me.” You add.

“We are in quite the conundrum, little birdie.” He murmurs softly. “Because we are unfortunate enough to have fallen for a scheme that has undoubtedly trapped more poor souls in their quest for riches.” Ezra looks towards the door. “When they come, do not argue, do not protest.” He warns you softly.

You swallow nervously, nodding as you prepare for the arrival of the guards. The lock on the door clinks, and you look up, watching a man walk in that isn't dressed like a guard, but he has two of them behind him. "It appears you decided to not copulate. Why have you foregone such an important event?" He asks you, his tone cool but condescending.

"Are you fucking serious?" You hiss, suddenly pissed at his tone. "I am not going to have sex with a stranger and get pregnant for you to sell my baby to the highest bidder." You growl, and Ezra's eyes widen as he shakes his head minutely. "Very well. You have informed her of the punishments?" The man asks Ezra, who nods. "Then you shall have one final warning before we begin to take you apart. All we need is your womb." He chuckles, clicking his fingers, and the guards step forward to grab onto Ezra.

"Stop. No! What - let him go!" You scream and the official just walks out of the room, another guard stepping forward to lock the door.

Ezra barely makes it out into the hall before the abuse starts. They want you to hear it. Honestly he was surprised they didn’t just beat him in front of you. Crying out when the thrower is brought down on the back of his head, he falls to his knees and grunts when another blow hits him across the back of the neck. If he were able bodied, he would attempt to grab the thrower, but he can’t. His lone hand is all he has. Screaming in pain when the guard stomps on his foot, he hopes he blacks out quickly.

You slam your fists against the metal door, looking through the small tinted window to see what they are doing to him. "Stop! Stop! Please. Please. Don't kill him. I- I didn't - I'll do it. Just don't- stop!" You half sob half scream. Guilt wracking your body as you watch them beat Ezra until he is unconscious. "Please. Stop!" You cry.

They stop kicking and stomping on him a few moments later, Ezra’s body still and his breathing barely making his chest rise and fall. The guard moves to unlock the door to your room again and he grabs Ezra’s lone arm, dragging him back into the room and depositing him into the center of it, his thrower pointed at you to keep you back. “Next time it will be you.” He threatens before marching out and locking the door behind him again.

As soon as the door shuts, you rush over to Ezra and kneel down beside him. His face is covered in blood, swollen and he is barely breathing. You don't know what to do other than hold him and apologize over and over again. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." You sob, rocking him softly as you cradle him. You don't even know him but you feel responsible for his current injuries. You stood up for yourself, for your body, and his body took the blame. You feel incredibly guilty.

It’s hours later before Ezra comes to, groaning when the first thing he registers is pain. Coughing hurts but he chokes out a few ragged breaths as the feeling of fire spreads through his limbs and muscles. “B-birdie,” he croaks out. “Th-hey didn’t t-touch you?” His vision is blurred, taking a few pained blinks before it clears up so that your worried face comes into view.

You shake your head, relieved that he's alive and able to talk. "Ezra!" You cry, looking down at him as he comes to. "No. No. They didn't touch me. I'm so sorry. This is all my fault." You choke, sobs escaping your lips, and you try to figure out how to help him. "There's no medical supplies. I don't - I don't know how to help you." You declare hopelessly.

“Just- it’s okay.” He winces as he tries to push himself up to his elbow. “Time.” He groans. “I’ve had worse, if I may boast.” He chuckles weakly and hisses at the sharp pain in his side. Ribs are broken, he can tell, as well as a few fingers where the guard had danced on his hand. At least he would be expected to fuck you in this condition. “It bought you some time, little bird, perhaps a week.”

You shake your head, "I didn't want to buy time like this. You took a beating for me. Ezra. I don't know how to thank or repay you for that. I'm so sorry. Will they - are they going to take you back to where you were before?" You ask, wondering if he has his own room or if they plan to leave him in here with you so you can look after him.

“I will assume since they designed to leave me in your quarters, that I am to remain here.” He groans. “It would seem then that they wish for you to observe the punishment but not receive it yet.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, unsure if you’d be as strong as he is taking a beating like that. You brush his hair back before you reach down to grab the bottom of your flimsy gown. It tears easily, allowing you to tear the bottom off, and you use it to wipe the blood off of his face. “You can’t do this again.” You tell him, knowing your conscience wouldn’t allow it, and you’re uncertain if he would survive another beating like that.

Ezra huffs, wincing again as you dab at one of his wounds. “I am confounded if I see any alternative path right now.” He admits. “I am not able to fight them off, and am not used to being a tri-ped creature.”

You sigh, gently wiping the blood away, and you know there’s no use fighting having to have sex with Ezra. Under different circumstances, you’d be open to having sex with Ezra. He’s a handsome man and he has a way with words. You just don’t want a baby. “What if…what if we have sex but you pull out? Don’t cum inside of me?” You ask him.

“They will soon discover our deception.” Ezra murmurs softly. “But I will do whatever you wish.” He looks up at you through pain filled eyes. “This is unlike any trouble I have found myself entangled in before.” He admits. “It will be at least a week before I would be able to do anything remotely physical anyway.”

You finish wiping the blood from his face, tossing aside the ruined rag. “Let’s get you on the bunk.” You tell him, knowing he’s going to be in pain when you move him. He’s heavy as you try to lift him, supporting most of his weight as he shifts onto the bed, grunts and curses along with wheezing breaths escaping his lips. You pull the sheet over him just as the slot in the bottom of the door opens. A tray with two meals and what looks like a first aid kit is pushed in before the slot shuts with a clang. “First aid kit.” You scramble to get it, opening it up. “I- used- I was training to be a nurse in another lifetime. Let me help you.” You request.

Ezra looks at you curiously, wondering what would have caused you to no longer pursue that profession. He looks towards the first aid kit and gives a wry smile. “It looks better equipped than the one that I used on the Green.” He tells you, nodding slightly. “Do whatever you can, little bird.”

You get to work on fixing him up. Wrapping his fingers after using a splint to keep them straight, then you use the antibacterial cream on his cuts and bruises before covering them with bandages. “Here. Take this.” You order, handing him the one pain pill that had been in the kit. You hold up the water for him to sip and he downs it quickly. “Feeling better?” You ask after putting the kit back in the box. Your stomach growls and you reach for the tray, setting it down in front of him. “You need to eat.”

He shakes his head, groaning slightly. “I’ll eat when I don’t feel like I will lose the contents of my stomach.” He promises, looking at you. “Go ahead and eat birdie, the one thing they are consistent here with is meals. They want you to be at the peak of health for the babe they wish you to nourish.”

You sigh, “sick fucks. I just - it’s the lack of transparency. If that’s what they said from the beginning, I would’ve said no. I can’t - I can’t bring a baby into this world and then just - I don’t know if I’d be able to give it away after carrying it. Some women do. They are stronger than me. I’ll save you some food.” You promise, groaning at the smell of the chicken and vegetables. You’re starving and it’s been so long since you had something other than nutribars to keep alive. You dig in, knowing you look ravenous but you can’t help it.

Ezra rolls his head over to the side, enjoying the enthusiasm in which you were devouring the food. It’s obvious you had been down on your luck, something he is accustomed to with the life he had led as a floater. “I am of the same resolute decision, little bird. I have never fathered a child because of my wandering nature and lack of roots. I’m a floater and that is no life for a child.” He grimaces. “At least I was a floater.” He ignores the way that his body tries to respond to you licking your fingers, even through the pain you are a beautiful woman and it has been a long time since he has had the pleasure of being buried in someone else’s body. “Tell me about yourself. Your story.”

You stop eating to look at him. “I was born on a planet far away from this one. I had a loving family, a mother and father who adored me. I was born into wealth but it didn’t last long. My parents - they were killed when I was a baby and some relative whose name I never got took the inheritance and put me into care. I never got a cent of my inheritance, and I spent my life going from one home to another. When I was out of care, I decided to do something with my life and volunteered to become a nurse, hoping it would give me purpose. I was training when they decided I was no longer eligible for the program because they found out my last name. They thought I was some rich girl playing nurse, and I didn’t have the money to continue training. So I ended up on the streets and that’s where I’ve been ever since.” You tell him. “What about you?”

He hums, eyes looking through you as he thinks about his past. “My childhood was spent on Earth.” He reveals. “Adventure and treasure seeking spiked in my blood early, leaving home when I was barely a man. Ready to strike it rich and make my way through the universe.” He chuckles lightly at himself. “Became a floater by choice. Prospecting and harvesting all manner of things, but Aurelac is what I craved. Desired it until it cost me.” He gestures to his arm.

You frown, hating that he had suffered so much. “Earth…seems like such a distant concept now that it is uninhabitable.” You sigh, wishing you could’ve grown up on the planet of your ancestors. “What do you wish for? If you could have your perfect life?” You ask him after several moments, curious to know his dreams.

He smiles at that, wincing at the busted lip. “Nothing too grandiose, a house with some land. Clean air to be able to walk around without a filter. Soft bed, fully belly.” He hums. “A warm partner to sleep beside. And for Cee to attend her school, her dreams coming true.”

You hum, “that sounds like a good life. Just to relax and have your own space. You love Cee.” You declare, not needing him to confirm, the softness in his eyes reminds you of the glances of fathers you would see with their children as they passed you while you sat in the cold street. “I like that. Shows you’re a good man. A home of my own…something I’ve never had.” You sigh, setting the plate down.

“A good man…I’m a scoundrel, a thief, a killer when necessary.” Ezra corrects you. “But I also want to be more than that.” He presses his lips together, looking over at the door and then back to you. “We will get out of here.” He promises softly. “We will leave this place and I will see you situated safely.”

You shake your head, “you don’t need to worry about me after we escape. Let’s just escape first. You are a good man. A bad man would’ve just fucked me - raped me - to avoid a beating. You didn’t. To me, that makes you a good man. Better than most I’ve met. When the time comes, I don’t want you to take another beating. You can fuck me but…let’s try and see if you can pull out. I’m sure neither of us want a baby.”

The next week passes in agonizing lethargy for Ezra. The pain medication is just enough to keep him from crying but not enough to actually dull his senses. He learns more about you, growing even more fond of you every story you tell. In turn, he entertains you with his own stories from his days. Every day creeping closer to when he will be expected to fuck you.

You are pleased to see Ezra finally walking around. It’s been torture to watch him struggle with his injuries, and you can’t see him go through it again. You are listening to Ezra tell you about his time on the Green when the lock on the door clinks. You look up, swallowing harshly as the door opens. The guards walk in and you glance over at Ezra.

Ezra is immediately tense, jaw set. The guards don’t seem bothered, instead they look around the room, even though there is nothing to find other than the empty trays that haven’t been taken away. “Shower and then you will have sex.” The guard tells Ezra. “It’s been a week. You don’t need mended ribs to have her ride your cock.”

Your heart pounds, unable to believe that you’re about to have sex with Ezra. You’re able to accept that reality more now that you’ve spent the week getting to know him. It’s scary to know that you’re going to have sex with him in this setting. You are attracted to Ezra. That much is clear to you. He’s handsome in spite of his flaws. They make him even more human. The guards go to grab you but you jerk your arm away and stand up. “I can do it.” You growl, stepping towards the small bathroom where the shower is. “Do you mind?” You ask the guards as they move to follow you inside the bathroom.

You wash off, putting your gown back on before you go back into the main area. “Go on. Shower.” The guards order Ezra, nudging him towards the bathroom. You shift awkwardly from one foot to the other, heart pounding in anxiety. “Are you going to stay here while we…?” You trail off.

The guard snorts and shakes his head. “No.” He huffs and curls his nose up. “We aren’t allowed to touch you so I’m not staying here and watching.” He spits, not liking the rules that he has to abide by. Ezra would be the only one to fuck you, his genetic make-up what they wanted for a baby. His own sperm were deemed unsatisfactory when he had voluntarily been tested, liking the idea of fucking every day. Instead he was watching assholes who didn’t seem to know how good they had it. “You’re lucky though…” his eyes rake over your body. “I wouldn’t have taken a beating. You would have been taking my cock from the first hour we were put together.” He leers, smirking at the horror on your face.

You shudder at the look in his eyes, shaking your head. “I would rather be dead than have to fuck someone like you.” You spit. You glance over as Ezra walks back into the room, his hair damp from his shower, and he senses the heavy atmosphere.

“Everything okay?” He asks you.

You tear your eyes away from the guard who is still smirking. “It’s fine. Let’s do this.” You stride over to Ezra, gripping the back of his neck to bring his mouth down to yours.

Ezra grunts in surprise, but his arm comes around your back, keeping you against him. Sensing that there is more to this kiss than just eager anticipation given your slightly desperate taste. The guard huffs and the other grunts. “Good, make sure you fuck.” He growls, moving towards the door and opening it. “You only have three more weeks before your test.”

“Test?” You gasp, pulling away from Ezra’s mouth to look at the retreating guard.

“Yes. Pregnancy test. Duh.” He rolls his eyes and steps outside, shuffling the door behind him. You turn back to Ezra. “We need to get out of here before that pregnancy test.” You tell him, stroking his neck now that you are alone. “I’m sorry about the kiss. The guard…he was - inappropriate.” You grimace.

His hand flexes on the small of your back, frowning as his eyes shift towards the now locked door. “Bastard.” He hisses, knowing that it must have been extremely inappropriate for you to put on that type of display. “We can wait.” He offers quietly, not wishing to make your experience even worse by rushing things. Eventually you would have to have sex, but it wasn’t like it couldn’t wait for a few hours. “Even if we are impotent in our fates, we can still control the manner in which we fulfill the requirement.”

His consideration of your comfort makes your stomach twist as you admire him. “I want you Ezra.” You can’t deny that. You’ve grown to like him over the past week. “I want you without needing you to fuck me for our survival. I just want to connect with you. Fuck those assholes outside and the monsters who trapped us here. Let’s make this about us. Our pleasure.” You suggest, running your hands down his chest.

His cock twitches at the innocent touch. “Little bird, I would love to experience pleasure at your touch and give you more than you can handle.” He watches your eyes for any hesitation and when he finds none, he pulls back and guides you over to the bunk. “Have you had sex before?” He’s not sure what kind of experience you have, that’s been the one topic both of you have steered clear of.

You nod, "I have. Only a few times." You confess, a little embarrassed by your lack of experience when Ezra seems to know what he is doing. "I haven't had sex for a long time. Too preoccupied with surviving on the streets and I - I didn't want to turn to sex work. Not that there's anything wrong with that. I just don't have the confidence to charge someone for sex." You confess, slightly flustered.

Ezra nods, reaching up and wrapping around the side of your neck, thumb rubbing the rapid pulse that is hammering against your skin. You are nervous and he doesn’t want that. “We take this at your pace.” He insists. “Whereas there have been times that I have been less than genial with lovers, it was at their insistence or skill that demanded it.” His eyes are dark and he can’t deny that if this were a year ago, he would delight in making you scream in pleasure from the fought thrusts of his cock in your cunt. Now though he wanted to make this good for you. “Since it has been an extended celibatory period for you, I suggest we prepare you.”

You inhale sharply, unable to believe he wants to be tender instead of just getting this over with. You reach for the hem of your gown, pulling it over your head. You know you should be ashamed to be so eager to be touched by this man in this environment but you find yourself distracted by those dark eyes, allowing yourself to believe that this is a hotel room. You’ve met Ezra outside of this facility and you have voluntarily chosen to have sex with him. If you focus on him, it makes it easier, you actually want him.

“Kevva.” He groans, the broad swipe of his tongue running over his bottom lip, wetting it as he looks at you. He had been trying to avoid mapping your curves but you are giving him permission and he is greedy. “I want to taste you, little bird.” He motions to the bed. “Settle your form over my mouth and let me feast on your sweet cunt.”

The whine that escapes your lips is almost inhuman, and you watch him grunt as he lays down on the bunk you've been sharing for the past week. You are nervous, looking down at him before you straddle his stomach. "I haven't - not like this." You confess, your wet cunt slicking across his stomach. You've given and received oral sex but you've never ridden a man's face before.

Ezra can’t help but give you a delighted grin, patting his chest with his hand. “Then allow me the pleasure of introducing you to face-sitting, little bird. It is a delightfully wicked thing.” He doesn’t mention it is easier for him without the aid of his other arm, but instead focuses on the thatch of curls between your thighs as you cautiously move up his body.

You hover over his face, his hot breath fanning over your skin, and when his tongue touches your wet slit, you gasp out his name. “Oh fuck.” You whimper, lowering your hips even more as pleasure overtakes your shyness. His tongue slides through your folds and you reach down to tangle your fingers in his hair for balance. “Oh Kevva, Ezra.” You whimper, closing your eyes.

Groaning, his eyes roll back at the tangy taste of you on his tongue. It’s been a long time since he had had his mouth on a lover, cock throbbing in the thin pants that are still riding his hips. Using his lone hand to grip your hip, his tongue flicks over your clit and he pushes at you, wanting you to grind your cunt over his face and ride his tongue as it sweeps back and plunges into your silken walls.

You squeal when his tongue pushes into you. You cry out, unconsciously rocking your hips, and when you do that, his nose nudges your clit just right. You moan his name, continuing to rock your hips as his tongue works your cunt expertly. “Oh fuck Ezra. This is - it’s so good.” You whine.

Ezra is a greedy man. He always wants more. Oftentimes it is what gets him in trouble. Trying to accomplish the perfect backstab so he can have a bigger portion of the profits from a haul, or all of them, if his thrower aim was true. This time, he’s greedy for your sounds. Soaking them up along with the delectable juices that slide out of your cunt, flowing like nectar from Kevva himself. Making him eager to feel you cum as he curls his tongue inside you.

You cry out at his eagerness, rocking your hips on his face until he sends you over the edge. Sucking hard on your clit, he makes you squeal as your thighs press against his cheeks, smothering him as you shake through your orgasm. “Ezra. Oh Kevva. Ezra.” You whine.

He swears he could probably cum from your sounds alone. Ringing in his ears and making his chest puff up in pride while he works you through it. Slow strokes of his tongue until you are shifting back, looking down at him while you catch your breath. Ezra feels very much like the cat who got the cream, smirking up at you and caressing your hip. “How was your ride, little bird?”

You smile, shifting to settle on his chest instead of his face, and you look down at him. “Remarkable.” You answer honestly, shuffling further back so you can press your lips to his, unconcerned with tasting yourself on his tongue as you slide yours into his mouth.

Moaning into your mouth, he tries not to grind up against you. Throbbing and staining the material of his pants with precum as it creates a dark spotch on the fabric. Turning his head, he kisses along your jaw. “Do you want to ride or do you wish to be under me?” He murmurs in your ear. “It will be easier to pull out if I’m on top.”

"You on top." You tell him, knowing you need him to pull out of you. "Let me -" You grunt as you shift to lay down beside him. "Come on Ezra. I want to feel you." You murmur, wanting him inside of you, to feel connected to him after everything you've already endured together.

Ezra stands, pushing down his pants and letting his cock spring free. Getting his shirt off takes a little bit more finesse but he manages and is quickly just as bare as you are. Biting his lip and looking down at you where you are spread on the bed and groaning slightly. “Beautiful, birdie. A veritable goddess.”

You eye his cock, leaking pre-cum, and he looks a little feral as his gaze trails over your body. "You look incredible, Ezra. Despite your flaws, you're the most handsome man I've ever seen." You confess, watching him as he kneels on the bed and hovers over you. "Just don't cum inside of me." You remind him, opening your legs for him.

Grunting, he nods, trying to slot himself between your thighs without the aid of another hand to guide him. Using his left hand to brace his weight, he entreats your with his eyes. “Guide the way, birdie.” He begs, sliding his cock through your folds and groaning at how wet you are against him.

You reach between you to grip his cock, guiding him to your cunt. He grunts, pushing slowly into your tight walls, and you whimper at how thick he is. “Kevva. You’re so big.” You whimper, exhaling shakily as he pushes deeper into you. His eyes are closed and you can’t help but reach up to trace the scar on his cheek, “beautiful.” You murmur, relaxing as you admire him.

He can tell his near death experience has changed him. Or maybe it was time spent with Cee. Instead of reveling in his cock being surrounded by your tight cunt and fucking you just as furiously as he could, he’s trying to hold himself back. To keep himself from spilling too quickly. Wanting you to enjoy this forced copulation as much as you could. “You are an angel, birdie.” He chokes out, opening his eyes and pressing his lips to yours while he starts to move.

You wrap your arms around him as well as your legs, pulling him even closer so the only thing he can do is move his hips. His cock drags along your walls and you whimper when he hits slow and deep. Your tongue slides against his as his cock pushes into your cunt. You’re overwhelmed by him, his scent, his grunts, his body. It’s intoxicating.

“Kevva, fuck.” Ezra grunts out, the pace so much slower than he is used to but he makes up for it by making sure that he is bottoming out with every push of his hips. Grinding deep into you. He knows he will have to speed up but you are so fucking tight and he doesn’t want to hurt you. “Look at you taking me.” He moans, looking down to where your lips are stretched around his shaft. “Full of me, stretching that cunt.”

You whimper at his words, so sordid but so sexy, his voice gruff and raspy. “Oh fuck. Yes. You feel so good. Fill me up so good. I- never had a cock this thick before.” You confess, moaning out when his hips jerk and he speeds up for a moment. “You can go faster.” You murmur, stroking his back.

“Birdie.” Ezra groans, unable to stop himself from ramping up his pace. This arm is shaking but he ignores it. “Rub your little pearl.” He orders you. He can’t, not in this position but next time he will kneel and have your legs up on his shoulders so he can control your orgasms. “Want you to soak my cock in the elixir of your pleasure.”

You moan, rocking your hips up to meet his thrusts, loving the way his jaw is clenched. You reach between you to rub your clit, moaning his name when the combination makes your stomach clench. Half a dozen more thrusts and you’re done. Crying out his name, you clamp down on his cock, soaking him with your cum.

He moans at how tight you get, how wet you are when you cum. “Sh-shit.” He hisses, rocking into you twice more before he’s pulling his hips back, ripping his cock out of you quickly. Spurting his seed onto your thighs and stomach while he groans and thrust against your mound.

You reach down to wrap your fingers around his cock, working him through his orgasm as his seed paints your stomach. “You look so beautiful when you cum.” You murmur, tilting your head up to kiss along his jaw. You moan when he turns his head to press his lips to yours, making you slide your tongue into his mouth.

Ezra hums, slowly rocking his hips until he stops moving. Kissing you softly once more before he starts to shift off of you. “We need to clean up.” He murmurs in your ear. “Most prudent thing is for you to get back into the shower. Wash away the evidence of our misdeeds.”

You nod, letting go off his softening cock as he shifts to lay down beside you. You inhale deeply, trying to catch your breath, and you feel boneless after the best orgasm you've had in...well, forever. Your peace is short lived as the door is unlocked and a guard walks in, his eyes focused on your cum streaked stomach. He tuts, "oh dear. Looks like you didn't follow your instructions." His eyes drift over to Ezra. "Don't move." He orders before reaching down to grab onto your arm, pulling you off of the bed and across the floor despite your shrieks and struggling.

Moving to lunge at the guards, Ezra has a thrower shoved against his forehead, pushing him back against the wall. “Don’t fucking touch her, you piece of shit!” Ezra growls. “I pulled out. It was me!” He shouts, hissing when the guard that is dragging you onto the floor stops and kicks you.

The guard shakes his head at Ezra. "She didn't let you cum inside of her. She is going to learn that next time, you cum inside of her." He keeps the thrower against Ezra's forehead as the guard kicks you again. You choke, blood spitting out onto the floor as you're kicked again, and you try to curl into yourself to stop the man from kicking you again.

Ezra hurls curses at them, enraged that they are beating you rather than him. Tensing to spring up off the bed several more times only to be shoved back by the other guard. Hating every cry that spews from your mouth. It seemingly goes on forever, even though he knows it’s only a few minutes. They don’t want to do any damage to you, just show you how bad it could be. Thank Kevva he doesn’t kick you in the stomach, although you will be peeing blood for how many kicks to the kidneys you recover. “She gets it!” Ezra roars, fist twisted in the sheets. “Stop!”

The guard finally stops, standing up straight, and you choke, trying to catch your breath as blood drips from your mouth. You don't doubt that you have internal bleeding. Ezra's cum is still staining your stomach as the guard kneels down and grips your chin. "Next time, he cums inside of you, or we will remove a limb. Understand?" He asks, his fingers digging into your jaw.

"Y-Yes." You try to nod, your voice croaky, and the guard lets go of you before they both exit the room.

Ezra pushes off the bed quickly, falling to his knees beside you, and reaching for you gently. “I am sorry, little bird, I didn’t anticipate them coming to check so soon.” Fury pours from him as he cradles your battered body, wiping at the blood with his thumb. “We- the shower.” He urges. “I will clean you up. Put you to bed.” He promises. “You were my Nightingale when I was recovering, I will be your nursemaid.”

You nearly collapse when he struggles to help you stand up with his one arm. He supports your weight as you stumble towards the shower, and after he turns it on, you cling to him. “Please. Can you- shower with me.” You plead, needing to feel his skin against yours. He nods, stepping in with you and he wraps his arm around you. Once you’re under the warm water, you sob. Leaning against him, you cry for your current situation, for you and Ezra being beaten up. “I’m sorry.” You sob, burying your face in his chest.

“You have nothing to apologize for.” Ezra murmurs, wishing he could assure you that everything would be okay, but it would be a false sense of security. “You are not amenable to being their broodmare.” He huffs. “Bastards. Without those throwers I would have killed them.” He feels helpless but he knows he can be here for you. Hold you. “I should be sorry for not providing protection for you. Directing their blows to me.”

You sniff, leaning back and wincing at the pain that surges through you. “No. No. You could’ve been paired with a woman who was more willing to be bred. Save you the beating.” You feel guilty despite your own pain. “Ezra.” You choke, running your fingers along his damp chest. “I think we need to- to do what they want while we figure out a way to escape.”

“I know.” His tone is sad, slightly defeated as he answers you. He’s known this, waiting for you to come to that conclusion yourself. “We will get out of here, I will assure you of that.” He has started timing the delivery of the meals, looking for a pattern to the guards. “Don’t worry about it now, we will get you cleaned up, tucked into bed.” He presses his lips to your temple. “We will form a plan.”

The next few days pass by and Ezra looks after you, bringing you the food on the tray, helping you to the bathroom, holding you while you cried when you saw the blood in your pee. Holding you while you slept. The door opens and you sit up, wincing at your still sore body. The guards walk in, looking down at you and Ezra. “It’s time for you to fuck. You’ve had a few days to recover and all you need to do is lay on your back and let him cum inside of you.”

Ezra huffs and shakes his head. “She is still pissing blood from your boots to her kidneys.” He spits at the guard. “I am not risking her dying of an infection.” He lifts a brow. “It could cause her to miscarry and you will be in hot water with your upper management.”

The guard stares at you, making you shift impossibly closer to Ezra, and he clenches his jaw. "Fine. You have three more days then you need to fuck. Only because I don't want a dead potential mother on my hands. My boss would fucking kill me. Three days." He repeats, pointing at you and Ezra before he retreats, his fellow guard beside him. You exhale shakily, turning to look at Ezra. "Thank you." You reach up to cup his cheek, eternally grateful to Kevva that you were paired with a humane man.

“You do not need to be in pain.” He murmurs, leaning into your touch. Your tenderness still makes you hiss and he didn’t miss the tears in your eyes when he had helped you to the bathroom. “It will give you more time to gather your strength.” He murmurs softly. “I believe that we will soon be free from this nightmare.”

“Really?” You whisper hopefully, scared to be louder than that in case they are somehow listening.

He nods, shifting even closer. “I’ve been keeping tabs on when they bring our food, how many guards and when they change shifts. I think- if I can get a thrower, we can escape.” He confesses, and you grin.

“You are a genius.” You surge forward to press your lips to his.

He wraps his arm around you, sliding his tongue against yours gently and groaning when he hears your tiny whimper of hope. “Until then, we must play along with their plot. Keeping our rise undercover.”

You nod, flustered as you pull away from him, realizing you just kissed him without the premise of sex. You shift to lay down again, snuggling into his side as the pain lessens with each passing day. “Thank you Ezra. I- I am happy that I have you despite the hell we are in.”

He leans over and nudges his nose against yours. “I am grateful that you are with me as well.” He admits softly. “I must admit that you have the same spirit as my Cee and it makes me fiercely considerate, given our circumstances.”

Another few days pass by and the guards return, ordering you and Ezra to have sex. The blood is gone from your urine and you are less sore. You can’t argue with the guard regarding your health. You sigh, nodding as you turn towards Ezra. “We need to do this.” You tell him, knowing his plan will be put into action soon. You just need a week to get what you need.

The guard chuckles, “listen to the lady. She wants you to fuck her. Dunno why. You can’t fuck her properly with one arm. She needs a real man. A whole man.”

Ezra snorts and smirks at the guard. “Why don’t you drop your pants and bend over, I’ll shove my cock in your ass and you can tell me if it’s different from when you get fucked by your friend there.” He sneers, nodding towards the other guard. “It’s been my experience that the ones that boast the loudest have the tiniest appendages.”

You bite your lip to stifle your giggle and the guard's mouth opens and closes before he glares. "Just knock her up. You fucking reject." He hisses, stepping away from you and Ezra before he slams the door.

You turn to look at Ezra, "thank you for sticking up for me." You reach up to run your fingers through his hair, loving the blond patch. "

“Of course, birdie.” He leans in and presses his forehead against yours, blowing out a slightly nervous breath. “I know you are still not at your peak.” He murmurs softly. “What way do you want to have me?” He will leave this up to you. While he may be forced to try to impregnate you, he wants to give you as much control as he possibly can. You seem to respond better to it.

You bite your lip, knowing that you've thought about this for a while. "I want - I want you to fuck me with us both on our sides. You behind me so you have your hand free and we aren't having to move too much other than our hips." You suggest, wanting to feel his touch across your skin and his body pressed against yours completely. "Does that work for you?" You ask, shifting to kneel on the bed so you can pull the gown over your head.

“Creamy.” Ezra can’t help but smirk at the idea of having your leg over his thigh, opening you up and allowing him to fondle your tits while he’s buried inside you. His eyes drift over your nude body and his cock twitches. “The angle should also help if there are any lingering sore spots.” He reasons softly. “But I will make sure you have copious amounts of pleasure.”

You smile softly at him, loving how he considers you when most men wouldn't give a fuck. "Let's make this about us baby and no one else." You coo, shifting to lay down on your stomach as you get closer to him. You reach for the hem of his pants, tugging down the elastic until you can reach in to take out his half hard cock. You grip his length, shifting closer until you can flick your tongue over the leaking tip.

Ezra eagerly lays down behind you, his right shoulder against the bed and he lifts your leg, pulling it back over his hip to open you up wider. “You’ll feel me.” He promises. “The one time I’ve been inside you has been a lingering itch.” He hums in your ear. “One I’ve needed to scratch since I pulled free of the scorching vice grip of your walls.” He nudges forward, this time able to guide himself to your core and push the tip inside you. “Getting addicted already.” He groans, sliding into you slowly with a steady roll of his hips.

You gasp as he pushes into you, reaching down to grab his forearm as he wraps his arm around you. "Oh fuck. Ezra." You moan, loving how he stretches your cunt. You zone out from your dire situation, focusing only on you and Ezra. Lovers instead of prisoners. "I- I love how you feel inside of me." You reveal, bringing his hand up to your breast.

He squeezes your tit gently, making sure he doesn’t hurt you. Your nipple pebbles against his hand and he groans when your walls tighten around him. “So good.” He huffs, kissing below your ear. “You feel like a dream, birdie. I could live buried in this cunt.”

You whimper at his response, his cock buried deep inside of you, and you turn your head so you can press your lips to his. The angle is a little awkward but you love how his tongue slides in to caress yours. “I’m glad it’s you.” You murmur, pressing your lips to his chin as he thrusts into you. “I’m glad I’m here with you.”

Your words make him groan, playing into the little fantasy in his head that this isn’t forced. That you want him. Maybe approaching him at a bar on the Pug, striking up a conversation and taking him home. His hand slides down your body and he roughly circles your clit. “Me too, birdie.” He groans. “You are- fuck, you are so good to me. Took good care of me.”

You gasp when his calloused finger rubs your clit while his cock grinds deep, and you feel surrounded by him. You don’t know if it’s being stuck together every minute of the day, or simply how he is that makes you moan out, “I want you to cum inside of me.” You mean it. You want to feel him fill you up. Without any requirements, just wanting him to make love to you.

Hissing in your ear, his cock twitches. “I am.” He promises. “First you need to cum for me. Then I’ll fill up your pretty little cunt until you are dripping me.” He’s not exactly sure why it sounds so fucking sexy, but he twitches inside of you at the thought.

Moaning at the thought, you grind back onto his cock. “Fuck baby.” His words make your cunt clamp down on his cock, but he manages to thrust deep. You adjust your hip, making him hit just right, and you whine, “there. Right there.” He grunts, focusing on that same spot. You mewl, nails digging into his forearm as you clamp down on his cock, soaking him with your cum as his name spills from your lips.

Ezra groans, thrusting into you faster and works you through your high. Loving how tight you grip him. “God birdie.” He huffs, hearing how wet you are as his cock stuffs back into you with every push of his hips. “Gonna cum, this cunt is gonna make me cum.”

“Please Ezra. Cum. Fill me up. I want it.” You moan, serious about it. You want to feel his cock throb and pulse as he paints your walls. Your mind ignores the apparent consequences of your actions but you want to feel connected to him like this. “Cum for me.” You beg, turning your head to press your lips to his, sliding your tongue into his mouth.

He is unable to do anything but obey you. Practically whining out your name into your mouth. Pushing deep and shuddering while he pumps you full of his cum. “Birdie.” He moans, thrusting shallowly as he pushes his cum back into your cunt.

You reach back to cup his neck, keeping his mouth close to you. You sigh, praying to Kevva that he didn't get you pregnant, that you aren't fertile yet. He stays inside of you, kissing your jaw and neck, and you smile, focusing on him again. "Ezra." You murmur, "we have to keep doing this to keep them distracted."

“I know.” He hates it, knowing that every time he fills you, the chances of it taking is drastically improved. He doesn’t want to make you have a child when you don’t want one. “We won’t let them win.”

You shift, his softening cock slipping out of you, and you spin around to snuggle into his chest. "We will get out of here." You kiss the space above his heart. "I know we will." You look into his eyes, knowing that you will ensure you both get out of this hellhole.

The sound of the lock makes both of you look at the door. Opening to reveal both of the guards. Ezra shifts, lowering your leg down and pulling the sheet up, trying to keep the guard from ogling you. “We have done our deed.” He tells them. “You can leave.”

"I need to see proof." The guard tells Ezra, "unless you both want a beating...or to lose a limb." He threatens, tugging on the sheet to reveal your bodies. "Spread your legs, sweetheart. Need to see that his cum is inside of you." He orders, his eyes trailing along your form and making you shiver.

Ezra growls, not happy with it at all, but he squeezes your hip. “Show them, little bird.” He murmurs softly, kissing your ear. “The quicker we acquiesce to their demands, the sooner they will leave this room.” He rationalizes. He doesn’t want them touching you, and he damn sure doesn’t want you to be beaten again.

You bite your lip, hating that you are so violated in this fucking prison, but you spread your legs so the guard can see Ezra’s cum drip out of you. “Good girl. Damn. What a pretty little pussy. Maybe when you’re knocked up they’ll let me have some fun with you. Until you, you need to fuck her daily. Her fertility period is now. You need to get her pregnant or they…” The guard trails off with a chuckle.

“Or they what?” You ask, closing your legs.

“Or they’ll kill him.” He grins, “and you’ll have a new partner. So better get to it to make sure she’s pregnant.” He whistles as he walks out of the room, licking the door behind him.

“We will be long gone before then.” Ezra murmurs softly, praying to Kevva that it’s true. “We just need to keep the peace for now.”

You snuggle into his side, knowing he’s right. He won’t leave you alone here. You are soon falling asleep after he cleans you up and you curl into him, breathing him in.

****

“Mmm” You moan, waking up the next morning to Ezra kissing along your neck. He’s playful, growling into your flesh when you reach behind you to wrap your fingers around his morning wood. “I want to suck you off.” You request, shifting to kneel on the bed, the sheet falling off of your bodies. “Let me taste you.” You plead, leaning over to kiss the skin just above his knee.

“Birdie…” He knows he should resist. He should fuck you, but the back of his mind tells him that he’s already cum inside you. They can’t expect him to fill you every time. It only takes once to make a baby. Your teeth graze his thigh and his cock jumps, making him hiss in pleasure. “I must confess I have had several ruminations of what that mouth would feel like, my cock stuffed down your throat.” He admits, reaching down and cupping your cheek. “Do you wish to look up at me with tear filled eyes while you drink down my seed?”

You moan, nodding eagerly. You wish to somehow thank him for protecting you, for being a good man. Kissing along his inner thigh, you reach up to grip his cock, your tongue pressing against the underside of his length while your eyes meet his ever darkening gaze. You flick your tongue over the leaking slit, lapping up the drop of pre-cum, before you wrap your lips around the head, loving the hiss that escapes his mouth.

Ezra watches, entranced by the way that you start to take him into your mouth. Gripping the edge of the bed to keep his hips from rocking up and pushing too deep. “Kevva - fuck, little birdie.” He moans, “that mouth is straight from the heavens.”

You moan around his cock, taking him deeper until he hits the back of your throat. “Fuck.” Ezra grunts, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. You feel powerful, taking control of your pleasure, your bodies, instead of letting the people who have captured you control everything. You pull off of his cock for a moment, pumping him with your fist, as you look up at him. “I want you to cum down my throat.” You tell him before you take him back into your mouth, sinking down until your nose is buried in the curls at the base of his cock.

The whine you pull from his lips is nearly inhumane. Pulled from the pits of his stomach while his entire body tenses up. “Oh fuck.” He huffs, blowing out a loud breath, trying to calm his body down so he’s not too eager to cum too soon.

You feel powerful, in control, as you suck his cock. Wrapping your fingers around his saliva slick cock, and you pump him while your mouth lowers so you can roll one of his balls with his tongue. Your hand working his length, you swipe your thumb over the head, loving the moans that escape his lips.

Ezra keens your name. Learned during the week he was recovering from his own injuries, he uses it now in a broken voice, close to losing control. “Shit, shit, shit.” He pants breathlessly, his hand gripping the back of your head and his hips leaving the bed as he chases that release that is almost in his grasp. Gasping when you take him back into your hot mouth and suck. He cums with a shout, balls pulling tight to his body and throbbing as he spills down your throat.

You swallow his release, gulping as you try to keep up with the cum, an errant drop escaping your lips, and you let his hips rock as he rides his orgasm. When he slumps back on the bed, you pull off of his cock, licking your lips as you sample the salty taste of his seed, until you slump down beside him. You grin as you cup his cheek, loving the lost look in his eyes as he recovers. “You sound so beautiful when you cum.” You tell him, reaching out to brush his hair back from his face.

Ezra gives you a blissed out smile, reaching up to caress your neck gently. “As do you.” He promises. “Now I will never lament feeling your lips around my cock, I must insist that you allow me to bring you the same sweet relief that you just gifted me with.”

You whimper at the thought, knowing his tongue is sinful. “Fuck. Ezra.” You whine, reaching for his hand to bring it between your thighs, showing him how wet you are. “Want your fingers. Please. Want to kiss you while you make me cum on your fingers.” You plead, shifting closer to him and gasping when his fingers brush your clit.

“I will give you everything within my power, little bird.” He promises, pressing his lips to yours almost desperately and not caring that the taste of his seed is on your tongue when his caresses yours. Groaning into your mouth and twisting his wrist so he can push two fingers into your cunt and rub your clit with his thumb. Wanting to make you feel just as good as you had made him feel.

You cry into his mouth at the way his thick fingers stretch your walls. You love it. "Oh Ezra." You moan against his lips, rocking your hips down as you spread your legs wider, allowing him to push his fingers deeper. It's a little fumbling with his left hand not being his now missing dominant, but it still feels incredible. "Oh fuck." You hiss, closing your eyes as your mouth falls open.

“So good.” He murmurs, pressing kisses to your lips and tries to keep his fingers steadily working into your cunt. Rubbing your clit and pumping his fingers in and out of your velvety walls. Loving the way that you whimper into his mouth and rock your hips up to urge him on. “So responsive.”

“Always. For you. Because of you.” You gasp, that sensation in your stomach twisting as he pumps his fingers into you. When he curls them, you cry out, grabbing his forearm to tell him to focus on that, and he does. “Oh Ezra. Oh Ez- fuck!” You squeal, clamping down on his fingers, and he groans in appreciation as you soak his digits.

He loves that you are soaking him, that you are coming apart for him. So much of what he had thought he had lost when his arm was parted from his body was restored in your arms. The confidence of his ability gleaming under the bending of your body, the clenching of your cunt. He is renewed in the sweet cry of your broken sounds of pleasure. “So good. So good, little bird.” He murmurs, rocking you through it.

Panting, you shift to throw your leg over his hip, surging forward to press your lips to his as his fingers remain inside of you. “Ezra. I- I think - I am so happy it’s you. If I do become pregnant…I’m glad you’re the father.” You murmur, looking into those dark brown eyes you’ve come to adore. Being locked in this room with him has brought in feelings you never imagined you would experience. You can’t say what you truly feel, just in case the worst happens. You can’t admit it to yourself in case it destroys what little strength you have left.

“I would not wish to be with anyone else.” He is surprised that it is true, but it is. He is happy that he has been paired with you. “If you- if our union does bear fruit….” His dark eyes bore into yours before he lowers his lips to your ear. “I will take care of you, little bird. I swear it on my last breath.”

You smile, reaching up to caress his stubbled cheek. “I know you will. Let’s hope we can get out of here before we end up in that situation.” You sigh, leaning in to peck his lips. You pray you escape before you are pregnant.

****

The next two weeks pass in the same way as before. Expertly timed meal delivery and deliveries of toiletries. One thing is different though. The guards don’t come inside your room. The reason for that is because you and Ezra have sex every day. Neither one of you wants a beating or to lose a limb so he cums inside of you, but the sex is not methodical. It’s passionate. Now that Ezra has regained his confidence, he’s a demanding lover.

Dragging orgasm after orgasm from your body as he moves within you, letting you ride him or fucking you from behind on his knees. You’re addicted to his cock, loving the way he feels inside of you. It’s after you’ve cleaned up from your recent round of sex that the door is opened. You are curled around Ezra, his hand caressing your back, when the guard strides over to the bed.

Ezra tenses slightly, not liking the look on the guard’s face. “Get up.” He orders, eyes roaming over your body. You are wearing your gown, but it is thin and Ezra has it shoved up to your hips while he caresses your breasts.

“Are we no longer trading quips?” He asks, giving a small pout. “And I had enjoyed them so.”

The guard offers him a sarcastic smile while you shift off of the bed. Ezra moves too but the guard shakes his head. “Not you. Just her.”

Ezra growls, standing up from the bed. “No.” He hisses, moving to step in front of you and defend you if need be. “Where are you taking her?” He demands to know.

The guard snorts, pressing his thrower to Ezra’s head. “I won’t say it again. Move. She needs to go for a pregnancy test.” He growls.

He huffs, unhappy with this and presses closer, trying to reach you even with the thrower at his head. “It will be okay. You will take the test and then come back here.” He reaches out and touches your arm to reassure you. “They wouldn’t dare hurt you. Not when they want your womb filled with my baby for their schemes.” He reminds you and the guards of that fact. “Nor would they risk a budding pregnancy.”

You nod, looking at him for a moment before the guards order you to walk. “I’ll be back.” You promise, letting the guards escort you past the endless doors and sex noises echo down the hall along with screams and cries. It’s overwhelming and you’re grateful for the peace as you are escorted to another corridor where the door is opened for you.

“Welcome.” The woman smiles. A doctor. She’s friendly, telling you to sit down as the guards shuffle out of the door, and her friendliness has you on edge. No one here is friendly. You don’t say anything, letting her check your vitals, and she eventually asks you to pee in a cup, pointing to the toilet in the corner.

“Uh, is there nowhere more private?” You ask.

“No. We can’t afford any…issues.” She says, her tone a little cooler. She doesn’t say but they’ve had issues where woman had smuggled in urine from their male sexual partners to fake a negative if they suspected a pregnancy. You are awkward as you pee into the cup, handing it to her. She puts the strip into it, setting the timer, and your heart is pounding, praying for a negative. You wring your fingers together, anxious until she grins and your heart breaks. “Positive!” She cheers and you immediately start to sob, unsure of what to do or how to feel.

Ezra will be furious. You will need to move your plans to escape up. The guards enter the room and you don’t struggle, hoping they take you back to your room, but they take you down another hall. “Where am I going? Stop. Stop! I want to go back! Take me back!” You scream, trying to run away but they grab your arms, guiding you into another room.

“Welcome to the maternity ward.” The guard announces.

Ezra paces as he waits for you. Walking an endless loop back and forth across the floor and looking towards the door. It shouldn’t take this long for you to pee in a cup or have blood taken for a pregnancy test. Worried that he has managed to get you pregnant and sure that he won’t be able to keep himself from telling you that he’s hopeless attached to you, despite your circumstances. Stopping and rushing over to the door when the slot for the tray opens. “Where is she?” He demands as the tray slides into the room. “I demand to see her!”

The sight of only one tray makes Ezra gulp, worried they had killed you or taken you somewhere if you weren't pregnant. "She's gone to the maternity ward, you reject. Congrats. You knocked her up." The guard snorts, slamming the slot shut after shoving the tray towards Ezra, sending food across the floor.

“Shit!” Ezra hisses, shoving his hand through his hair before he ignores the foot and starts beating on the door. “Bring her back!” He shouts, over and over again as his fist slams against the hard door. “Bring her back! Bring her back! I demand to see her!”

You were so hysterical when they took you to your bed in the maternity ward, they had to sedate you. Telling you that stress isn’t good for the baby. When you wake up, you are disoriented, looking around at the multiple beds. Women in various states of pregnancy. Some are ready to pop. Some like you, barely pregnant, others halfway through. You look up at the holoscreens, watching it play some ancient soap opera from earth. You glance around, noting the lack of guards, and you shift to get out of the bed, shrieking when your leg is pulled as you try to get out of the bed.

“It’s no use, they have us tied to the bed. We only leave if we need to pee or for medical tests, or if we are lucky, a bit of exercise. They want us to relax for the babies.” The heavily pregnant woman next to you reveals.

You swallow, tears stinging in your eyes. “And- and what happens after - you know?” You ask, wondering if she’s seen it.

“Oh, after you give birth? They sterilize you and let you go. They have no more use for you. They don’t want the same genes floating around. They want “exclusivity” for their new darling baby, so they sterilize the mother. The father? He’s castrated and then they let you go. Although….I’m not sure if that’s the case. Surely someone would try to stop this madness.” She seems at peace with her fate but you aren’t, unwilling to give your baby up to the highest bidder.

For two days Ezra has beat on the door. Demanding and yelling to see you. Ignoring the demands for him to shut up or the food that is shoved through the slot. “I demand to see her!” He yells again, voice hoarse and his hand swollen from where he is hitting it on the door. He had taken one of the food trays to clang against the door when he could not use his fist any more. He’s terrified of what they may have done to you, where you might be having done to you and the fact that you are pregnant with his child just makes his sense of urgency even greater. Needing to get out of this cursed place and protect you. Failing you every second that you are apart.

You aren’t sure how much time has passed but you spend your days getting a plan together. It takes time but you manage to wrangle a bobby pin from one of the nurses, complaining that your hair keeps getting in your face from your lack of a haircut. She feels sorry for you and gives you one. At night, you talk to the pregnant woman beside you. You find out her name is Mona and she tells you about what she wishes she could do. To escape and have her daughter in her life, to be her mother, and live as a family. You grow to trust her so you tell her about Ezra, about how he protected you. She smiles and says it sounds like you’re in love with him, and it hits you.

“Yes. Yes I am.” You whisper, your hand sliding down to your stomach as you imagine a life with Ezra and your child, a home together. After that revelation, it’s what you dream about at night. About three days into your time in the maternity ward, you tell Mona about your plan to escape.

“You can’t. They will- they will capture you and then you’ll be chained up like Sally was after she tried to escape.” Mona warns you, but you shake your head.

“I have to try. I can’t - I won’t give my baby away. I need to save Ezra. Please. Help me.” You plead and she nods, rubbing your stomach. When everyone is asleep and the night nurse goes to get her usual cup of coffee, you sneak under your sheets to work on unlocking your ankle restraint. It’s hard but you’re grateful for the ancient lock as it’s easier to undo than the new technology. It clicks and you bite your lip to smother your cry of victory, leaving it loose as you try to get some sleep.

The next morning, Mona groans, making the nurse look up from her station, and she gasps, gripping her stomach. “I- I think my water just broke. I’ve been having pains all night but I- oh shit!” Mona squeals, and the nurse calls for the doctor, rushing over to help Mona get out of the bed so she can inspect. Mona had already poured some water beneath her gown to soak the mattress and she winks at you when the doctor and nurses surround her. You take your moment, getting out of the bed after undoing the restraint and rushing out of the room. Too distracted by the incoming baby, none of the doctors or nurses noticed you leave, but the others did. Giving you a thumbs up or worried looks as you try to escape. Rushing down the hall, your heart is pounding as you thankfully don’t run into anyone until you find the corridor where Ezra is being kept. The guard - the one who beat you - is walking along and spots you.

“Hey!” The guard yells out and starts running towards you. A fierce frown on his face as he raises his thrower to aim at you as he runs. “Stop!”

You freeze, throwing your hands up as he aims the thrower at you, and you need his key fob to open Ezra’s door. You think fast, smirking at the guard. “Come on now baby. Surely we can come to some arrangement. Can I- I want to suck your cock. It’s all I’ve thought about. Even when I had him inside of me. I wanted you, thought of you.” You coo, lowering your hands.

The guard chuckles, already ensnared by your charm. “Well I’m glad you’ve come to your senses.” He grins, lowering the thrower. You shuffle closer, kneeling down in front of him.

“Let me suck your cock.” You look up at him as you reach for his pants, pulling the zipper down. You see his key fob and his thrower in his hand. His eyes look up at the corridor to see if anyone is coming and that’s when you strike. Biting down on his hand that has the thrower, he drops it and you scramble to grab it. Wasting no time in putting a bolt in his head. You grimace at the sight of him, dead. He’s the first man you’ve killed, but you don’t have time to dwell on that as you bend down to grab the key fob, rushing down the hall to Ezra’s room. Unlocking it with the fob, you hear Ezra hoarsely begging for them to bring you back. You kneel down in front of him, cupping his cheeks. “Ezra! Ezra! Look at me.” You order, needing him to act fast so you can escape.

Ezra blinks, unable to believe that you are real. “Wha- birdie, are you here?“ He asks, frowning and reaching up to cup your cheek, afraid that he is hallucinating and you are just a figment of his imagination.

“Yes, I’m here Ezra, we have to move.” You tell him, tugging at his shoulder.

He shakes his head and tries to clear the cobwebs on his brain. So focused on seeing you again. “Are you- are you really pregnant?” He asks, almost believing that the information he had been told was a lie.

You smile, nodding at him. “Yes. Yes. I’m pregnant.” You watch the awe gather in his eyes, and a grin appears on his face before he swallows harshly, his eyes hardening.

“You need to get out of here.” He growls, narrowing his eyes at the open door.

“Come on baby. I have a key. We can go. Just - you need to get up.” You order, taking his hand in yours.

He nods quickly. Senses coming back to him. He struggles to get to his feet, weaker than normal due to no food for the last few days. “We must get you away from these parasites.” He huffs. “They will not touch you or the babe in your belly.” He takes the thrower from your hand and grips it in his. “Little bird, while it might be considered antiquated, allow me to present myself as a shield for you and our child.”

Your eyes widen, your heart thumping in your chest and you can’t help but surge forward to press your lips to his. “Later baby. Let’s get out of here first.” You tell him, helping him balance before you glance back at the door. You step towards it , but he shakes his head, stepping in front of you. He peeks his head out, looking down the hall before he gestures for you to move. You rush down the hall, unsure of where you need to go but Ezra moves ahead of you, thrower aiming at anyone who dares block your path.

Outside of the rooms, the security seems incredibly relaxed, meeting no one along your way. Ezra is cautious, looking around corners before he slides along the halls, making his way to what he hopes to be an exit. Passing by the room he had been housed in before he was brought to you. The double doors at the end of the hall look like freedom and he motions you closer. “Give me the fob, little bird.” He orders softly.

You hand him the fob, watching him curse as he struggles to hold the thrower and grab the fob, but he manages to swing it over his thumb to use both. He unlocks the door, the lights going green, and you rush behind him as you arrive in some kind of hangar. “Hey! What are you-?” The guard barely gets the chance to shout before Ezra shoots him. Another guard sees and hits the panic button, alerting the facility to your escape.

“Quick!” You shout at Ezra, nudging him towards the speed bike.

“You will have to navigate, little bird.” Ezra aims behind him and fires another bolt towards the second guard, hitting him in the shoulder and he hears a cry when the man drops to the ground. You nod, throwing your leg over the bike and he awkwardly climbs up behind you. It will be dangerous, trying to stay on with one arm, but he needs to be able to defend you while the two of you are escaping. “Hurry, before more show up.”

You scramble to figure out how to turn on the speeder, fumbling until the engine roars to life and you waste no time in accelerating out of the hangar. Bolts fly past you but you don't look back, focusing on weaving through the trees as you try to escape from the guards that are following. Ezra manages to take one out, his arm is tight around you but you don't mind. "There's one more birdie. I need you to go faster." He orders, and you accelerate, desperate to make your escape.

He can’t help but keep looking over his shoulder, the occasional thrower bolt clanging against the bike or along some object you are zooming by. Monitoring to make sure they aren’t catching up to you. “Around that corner!” He shouts in your ear, needing you to turn as he recognizes where you are. If you can lose him, he knows where the two of you will be able to hide.

You turn where he tells you to, spinning the bike so hard it nearly topples over into a skid, but you manage to keep control. The bike behind you does not have time to turn as he speeds in a straight line. Your heart pounds as Ezra points to a place in the distance, and you floor the bike, needing to get away and feel safe.

Stumbling off the bike after you stop, Ezra looks down the alleyways to make sure that the one chasing you wasn’t nearby. “Help me push it behind the pile of junk.” He motions over to a large stack of debris. “In an hour, it will be stolen and they can chase it all over with no ties to us.” He explains, grinning when he looks up at the rundown facade of his own home. “Come on, little bird, let’s get you inside and make sure nothing injured you.”

You nod, grunting as you help him push the bike behind the debris. After, he keeps the thrower aimed as he guides you to the derelict building. “Where are we Ezra?” You ask. Your hands are now shaking as the adrenaline starts to wear off.

“My old home.” He tells you, making your eyes widen as he guides you through the debris to the front door. He punches in a code and the mechanics whirl as the rusted door opens.

It’s old, an air of neglect hanging over the place, but it’s still in one piece. No one has come through and trashed it, despite others having had the code. Dusty furniture sits like lonely relics of when he was last here. It had been nearly three years since he had stepped foot into this place, telling Cee about it in case she needed to use it, but for some reason being unwilling to come back himself until now. “Now, I can make sure you are okay.” He grunts, turning around and locking the door from the inside.

You turn towards Ezra, surging forward to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him close as you bury your face in his chest, breathing him in. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” You choke, tears now streaming down your cheeks. Ezra’s arm wraps around you, stroking your back.

“For what birdie? Talk to me.” He urges, his brow furrowed.

“For getting pregnant.” You hiccup, “I- I know you don’t - it’s not what either of us planned for our lives.”

“Hey, hey.” Ezra murmurs, pulling back and reaching up to cup your cheek. “It’s not what we planned for our lives.” He admits. “But, birdie - if you don’t want to have this child, if it’s truly not what you want, I will make sure you don’t have to become a mother.” He promises. “I know where we can go. It’s as safe as it could possibly be. I’ll take you and be right there with you if you want.”

“Ezra. I- I truly never imagined having a child, to have a responsibility other than myself. When I could barely survive, it was - unfathomable. That’s why I had the implant. I- when they told me I was pregnant. I was horrified. But - but only because I couldn’t imagine giving my baby away to strangers after carrying them for nine months and knowing I’d be giving away the baby I had with the man I - I want this baby. When I was in the ward, I dreamed of a life with this child. With you.” You confess.

He breathes out a sigh of relief, giving a grin and a slight chuckle as he touches his forehead to yours. “Birdie…thank Kevva.” You have no idea how happy he is to hear you say that. “It would be the last thing I wanted. When that guard told me that you were carrying my child, I needed to see you. More than I need to draw breath.” He pauses, licking his lips and gathering his courage. “Birdie, we met under dire circumstances and yet, I must confess that I find myself bewildered by the depth of my feelings for you.” He tells you. “I love you, Birdie. You and our progeny and I want that life you spoke of.”

You inhale sharply, looking into those dark eyes you’ve come to love, to adore. “I love you too Ezra. So much. I- I want our child. I want a life together. We don’t have anything but we can figure it out. Go to a shelter or find some help.” You reach up to caress his cheek. “I never imagined I’d fall in love but here we are.” You giggle, nudging your nose against him.

He hums, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours softly. “It’s not much, but this place is secure with that door locked.” He promises. “I will change the code so that no one else can get in. It’s a place that isn’t a shelter for you and the baby to rest comfortably.” He bites his lip. “I will find work, find something to support you and our offspring.”

You nod, knowing he will provide. He’s protected you so far. You know he will continue to do so. “I love you.” You murmur, “I - I need you Ezra. I need to know you’re here and we are safe. Please. Touch me.” You beg, sliding your hands down his chest until you reach the elasticated band of his sweatpants.

Groaning, his cock twitches as you dip beneath the fabric and cup him. Hardening under your touch quickly, he huffs, and lets his hand slide down to cup one of your breasts over your gown. “Are you sure?” He murmurs softly, not wanting you to feel like you have to.

“Yes.” You whine, squeezing him and making him gasp. “I want you. Not because we have to, but because we want each other.”

He moans and nods. “Let me make love to you, little bird.”

You whimper, wrapping your fingers around his hardening cock, and you nod. “Please Ezra. I want you. I want you to make love to me without any objective or necessity. I just want it to be us. Lovers. Expressing their love. Not being treated like cattle.” You reach for the hem of your gown with your free hand, awkwardly tugging on it and he helps you after letting go of your breast. You’re still in the early stages of pregnancy that you don’t have a bump, but you smile when his hand reaches for your stomach. “Our baby.” You murmur, reaching for the hem of his t-shirt.

“Our baby.” He whispers the words reverently, stroking your skin before he has to pull away so you can pull his shirt over his head. “Soon your belly will swell and you will be showing.” He sighs and bites his lip as he looks you up and down. “I can’t wait to see it. I was afraid I would never see you again.”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “I’m sure you know me well enough by now to know that I wouldn’t have just stayed there without a fight. I had to get back to you. I needed to get back to you. The father of my child.” You toss his shirt on the floor and reach up to cup the back of his neck, bringing his lips back down to yours. “Need you to touch me baby.” You plead.

“I will.” He kisses you softly and smirks. “I want to take you to my bed.” He tells you, taking your hand and leading you through the space to the bedroom that was his. Stepping inside and hoping that you approve. The draped canvas cloth is covering it and he is quick to pull it off. “I want you to spread out here.”

Nodding, you shift to kneel on the bed, looking up at him. He’s like your personal angel. He thinks of himself as a devil, but perhaps he’s a fallen angel. Your savior nonetheless. “I love you Ezra.” You say as you lay down, beckoning him to you. “I want you inside of me. Nothing else. Just you.” You tell him.

Ezra lays down beside you, hand roaming over your bare flesh, squeezing and pinching your nipples gently. Sliding down over your stomach to tangle in the thatch of curls covering your cunt. “I want you to ride me, little bird.” He smirks and leans down to kiss your lips before trailing them down your chest. “Get you ready for when you are rounded.”

You moan, shifting to swing your leg over his hips to straddle him. You look down at him, a smile on your face as you shift to grip his cock. Positioning it at your entrance, you slowly sink down onto him. There’s a pinch from your lack of preparation but you don’t care, ignoring it in favor of looking down at your lover. “So good Ezra. Your cock feels so good inside of me.” You whimper.

He moans and he shifts his hips up, bouncing you slightly. “If I feel good, it is only because your cunt is perfectly made for this, for me.” He praises, stroking your hip and reaching up to cup your breast. His thumb rubs over the nipple slowly and he stimulates it. “You are a vision. A wondrous sight to see. My lover, my love, bearing my child and seated on my cock.”

The whine that escapes your lips is desperate, loving his words. So tender yet so secure. You feel safe for the first time in years. "We- we are a family now. I'm yours. Always yours." You take his hand from your breast, sliding it down your stomach to your curls until you can press his fingers against your clit. "Please baby. I need- I need to cum." You gasp.

Ezra growls and rubs your clit frantically while you start to rock on his cock faster. “You're mine and I’m yours little bird.” He promises, working the little bundle of nerves to make you gasp and clench around him. “Want you to cum. Want you to cum for me.” He groans, bucking up into you. “Squeeze my cock like you did when I filled you up with our baby.”

His words make you cry out and you gasp his name when his cock hits just right. "Oh Kevva. Fuck. Ezra. Ezra. Ezra." You pant, tossing your head back as you brace your palms on his chest. "I love you. I love- oh fuck!" You squeal, clamping down on his cock and soaking him as you cum.

Ezra groans, loving how tight you get and how you are soaking him. Hissing in pleasure when your hips roll slowly as you can’t keep up the pace. “Come on baby.” He urges, moving your hip with his hand and thrusting up into you. “So close to cumming.”

You struggle but manage to rock your hips, wanting him to cum for you. “Please baby. Cum for me. Cum for me.” You plead, nails scratching his chest as you look down at him. He groans your name, thrusting up into you as he cums, painting your walls. “Yes that’s it baby.” You coo, slowly rocking your hips to help him through his high.

Ezra loves how you collapse against his chest. Heart pounding as he turns his head and presses his lips to your hair. Humming happily as he caresses your back. “I love you, Birdie.” He murmurs softly. “I want to stay like this for a little longer.” He begs. Often you would quickly clean up together for fear of the guards coming in. He hadn’t liked anyone seeing you.

You hum, snuggling into his neck to breathe him in, relishing in your freedom, in your love. “Love you too. I’m - what happened to us was awful but I’m glad we found each other.” You kiss his neck, loving his hum of agreement.

****

“Ezra. Can you get the door?” You call out. Your home had been transformed, gone were the bare necessities Ezra had, replaced with furnishing fit for a family. Ezra had found work with a publishing company, deciding to write about your time in the breeding facility. He had found an assistant to type for him, writing out his memoir that had soon been snapped up and exposed the vile facility you’d been kidnapped into.

It hadn’t been easy but you’d both made the decision to shed light on it, preventing others from going through the same thing. Your child, now six months old, suckles on your breast while Ezra rushes to the door, defensive as ever until you hear “Kevva. It’s Cee.” He punches in the code to unlock your door and you’re shocked to see the girl he had bonded with, enter as a young woman.

Ezra pulls Cee into a tight hug. “Cee, I must say that I am surprised to see you on this doorstep.” He huffs, pulling back and looking her over before dragging her into the house to close the door. “Come in, where are you here from? Can you stay? How long?” He fires off questions as he guides her inside. “Come and meet my family.”

You look up as you tuck your breast away, shifting the baby after he finishes feeding. A smile appears on your face as you stand to meet the infamous Cee. “Family?” She asks as she follows Ezra into the living room, her eyes widening when she sees you and the baby in your arms. “Hi. You must be Cee.” You smile at her.

Her mouth drops open and she looks from you to Ezra and then to the baby. “I- you have been busy.” She manages after a moment. “I thought I would come back to find you still moping around about the loss of your arm.” She huffs, setting down the bag she has slung over her back. “And you’ve got a baby.”

Ezra chuckles, “yes. This -” He steps closer, introducing you and the baby. He leans down to kiss your forehead and you smile at him. “It’s a long story. One I’ve written about actually. Well, I spoke and someone typed.” He confesses. Cee nods, still a little in shock.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you. Are you staying?” You ask her, certain that you can prepare a meal for the younger woman.

Cee blushes slightly and bites her lip as she nods, looking uncertain for a moment. She hasn’t expected Ezra to have someone and she’s feeling a little lost. “My freighter leaves in half a cycle. Ezra- he had said that if I ever needed a place to stay when I was here, that I could stay here.” She explains. “But I can find a room somewhere.”

“Absolutely not.” You shake your head, “you will stay here. Ezra has told me about you and I wish to know more about the brave girl who saved the man I love. You shall stay and let me prepare dinner. Baby, I’ll put him in his crib and start dinner. You catch up with Cee.” You tell Ezra, stepping over to peck his lips before you disappear into the bedroom.

Ezra watches you disappear with a grin on his face before he motions you over to the comfortable sofa you had picked out. “Tell me what you have been getting yourself into.” He demands. “I have been hoping for a transmission from you, but this is better.” He sits down and smiles when Cee does the same, looking around and taking in the scrubbed clean and neat apartment.

“I never thought I’d see you with a family.” Cee chuckles, looking at Ezra with a soft smile. “She’s good for you. I can see it.” Cee says and Ezra has a sloppy smile on his face, glancing at the bedroom door where you disappeared.

“Yeah she is.” He nods.

Cee bites her lip, “i went back.” Her confession makes Ezra pale.

“You mean-?” He asks.

“I went back to the green.” Cee reveals and Ezra is about to reprimand her but she interrupts him. “I went back because I knew where the Queen’s Lair was and I - I practiced - mastered harvesting.” Ezra shakes his head, pissed she risked her life. “I went back and -” Cee reaches for the bag she brought, opening it to reveal the aurelac within. More than Ezra has ever seen in his life.

Ezra whistles, eyes widening as he looks into the bag. “Kevva.” He hisses, looking up at Cee. “You shouldn’t have gone alone, but fuck me if you didn’t strike it rich.” He remembers the sight of that pit. Shuddering as he also recalls the folly that followed. The two of them had barely made it off that rock. “Congratulations, you are a rich woman.” He sits back and worries his bottom lip. “What are your plans?”

“That’s just half of it, Ezra. This is your half.” Cee says.

Ezra’s eyes widen even more. “No. Cee. I- you - I didn’t harvest this.” He shakes his head.

“I would have died on that moon if it wasn’t for you. You saved me. You could’ve given me to the Saters but you didn’t. It’s because of you that I’m alive.” She says.

“I cannot accept this.” He says.

“You can and you will. I want you to have it. I have half of it. This half is yours. For your family.”

He looks back at the bag and then to the girl who had taken from him and yet given him so much on that toxic moon. Tears start to pool in his eyes and he nods. “I- there is no way I will ever be able to thank you.” He chokes out, reaching for her to pull her into a hug. “If not for you, I would have never met the woman I love or be a father.” He murmurs. “Kevva sent you to me, Cee.”

Cee smiles, kissing his cheek. “You saved me too Ezra. I- thank you.” You step out of the bedroom, smiling at the moment between Ezra and the young woman. Seeing the tenderness in his eyes, you hesitantly step closer and he drops his arm from Cee to reach for you.

“We are - Cee brought - it’s aurelac.” He points at the bag. Your eyes widen, remembering his stories of their fight for the gems and how much it is worth. “It’s ours.” Ezra announces, “Cee. She is generously gifting it to me.” Ezra informs you and your eyes widen even more, “ours?” Ezra grins, “ours.”

You look at Cee, unable to stop yourself from surging forward to wrap your arms around her. “Thank you.” You tell her.

“You’re welcome. Just - look after him.” She whispers.

“Always.” You promise, stepping away from her. You have tears in your eyes and you look at Ezra. “I love you.” You smile at Ezra, unable to believe how happy you are despite your unfortunate beginning.

“I love you too, birdie.” Ezra grins, nudging his nose against yours. Finally, he is rich. However, Ezra would consider his family to be his greatest treasure.

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princess-of-the-corner · 2 months

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Amnesia!Dabi: Twice (and assorted random thoughts)

I like to imagine that Jin ALSO ends up living with the Todorokis, or at least under their protection. Hell, maybe he stays at U.A.. Maybe Magne comes out of hiding to give them a hand. Who knows. But, like. Like, the Hero Commission absolutely want to throw him in jail. Like. A Hero Student got kidnapped. All Might has retired. The LoV is still at large. The recent upheaval - Kamino, the Togas trial, Toya, maybe a few information leaks - have really hit their public image. They are probably suffering a drop in public trust, and need a win (or a scapegoat). And like. I imagine they give it their best shot.

However:

1) By the time the HC get wind of it, Jin is at U.A., being treated by Recovery Girl. On paper, Jin has “surrendered” to U.A., just like Himiko and Dabi did, an incident the HC largely let U.A. handle independently. Like, did they want to get involved? Oh absolutely. But one of those villains was Endeavour’s kid, the other was a malnourished fifteen-year-old, they know to pick their battles. However, it’s created a pretty obvious precedent that U.A. can use.

2) Their big argument would be that Jin’s Quirk, combined with mental instability, makes him highly dangerous. Well, guess what, his Quirk is GONE. And they can’t claim ignorance, because there’s a pretty recent precedent for that too - Ragdoll. Her medical records probably shows her Quirk factor being damaged or something, and Jin matches (or might even be WORSE). They also could have Monoma try to copy Jin’s Quirk, to prove its really gone, cause he can’t copy what isn’t there.

3) They still try to make an argument for mental instability. However, with U.A. in the way, they’d definitely need to take this to court, get a proper ruling on Jin’s mental health, prove that he’s a danger to others. Not only is he NOT a danger to anyone right now (except himself) the Hero Commission wants to avoid that as much as possible. Why?

Himiko’s trial.

Cause this is happening right in the middle of the Togas fighting U.A. about Himiko. And that Trial is making all kinds of waves. Like, I imagine part of the reason Dabi went public with his identity as Toya Todoroki, got himself declared “not dead”, was so he could testify in court. Like, yes, he probably could have as Dabi, but it’s most likely EASIER as Toya, if that makes sense? So not only is the public getting “Pro Hero Phoenix Rises From The Ashes!” they’re also getting “Toya Todoroki to testify in upcoming abuse case”. There’s media attention on what would otherwise be swept under the rug. It’s getting a LOT of publicity, and I imagine that the Hero Commission aren’t coming out looking too hot. Why?

So I mentioned some info leaks, right? I like to imagine that the mission Toya went on where he “died” wasn’t just any old mission. It was issued by the Hero Commission. Now, do I think anyone in the HC was part of AfO’s plan to yoink Toya? No idea, but not the point. Those info leaks were about that mission, so now everyone KNOWS that the HC sent Toya on the mission where he “died”. They also have the follow up stuff, which when looked at all together, seems pretty sketchy? Like, why this decision? Why send him alone? Why these heroes, they wouldn’t be great for search and rescue? Why only this long of a search? Hold up, is this autopsy dated the day BEFORE? Shit like that.

(Now, besides the autopsy, I imagine most of it at the time could be explained by “Enji is panicking, grabbing whoever is closest, and not really thinking straight”, but looked back on by the public who don’t have context, it seems REALLY SUSPICIOUS.)

So, there’s all of THAT, but I also imagine that the HC did, at some point, try to get an … “interview”, with Himiko. Like, to ask her about the League. I imagine Himiko, wanting desperately to please the Todorokis (they’re all heroes, if she cooperates, will they keep her?) says sure, she’ll do it.

It goes REALLY FUCKING BAD.

I don’t know who they send to ask questions, but whoever it is, is used to dealing with hardened criminals, not emotionally damaged teens. The “interview”*cough*interrogation*cough* ends with Himiko in a panic attack, Dabi ready to burn a motherfucker to death, and Enji ready to help him. The HC back off so fast they leave tire tracks, and are trying their best to mitigate the situation. Only maybe, perhaps. Himiko’s parents are just rich enough, just influential enough, to know some people in the HC. To find out about the interview.

WHICH THEY DECIDE TO BRING UP IN COURT TO PROVE THEIR DAUGHTER IS A CRIMINAL - I MEAN, THE HC THOUGHT SO, RIGHT?

The Hero Commission is scrambling to fix this, and to do that, they need a win. Or a scapegoat. But they also realize that it’s 50/50 whether taking Jin to court would even work for them right now. So, eventually, they back off, and Jin moves into the Todoroki spare room.

(Please note, all of this is just random thoughts, not sure how well any of this would work?)

*And now, for something, completely different*

So, in the manga, they state that (at least physically) Magne hasn’t transitioned yet. Just … hasn’t been in a place, financially or socially to do that yet, was the impression I got? I like to think that Magne, after leaving the LoV, still in some of her “fuck this shit” phase, decides you know what? I am stuck in a weird place, have no idea what I’m going to do with my life, but I want to be happy. Now’s the time to transition. When she shows up properly at the end to help fuck shit up, Katsuki takes one good look at her, and goes “oh. THAT’S what I want”.

If Miruko is already dating, or at least friends, with Fuyumi, what if that’s how Hawks gets pulled in to the Dabi/Toya thing? I like to headcanon that the two are pretty good friends (youngest proheroes, both have animal Quirks, both get a lot of shit from similar places), so when Miruko needs another Pro, she calls him, like, “K, I need your help, but you can’t ask any questions, you can’t tell ANYONE, and aren’t allowed to arrest anyone.”

Hell yeah hell yeah HELL YEAH

I just LOVE the Commission being hoist by their own petard.

We can also end up with some bonus info reveals when Dabi eventually remembers The Thing™. Because the Commission tried to cover that up and then cut their involvement when they realized it was a lost cause even though the problem technically continues.

Swinging to the Hawks and Miruko thing:

I think they both got dragged in differently because like. They’re friends but also the social circle is a circle if that makes sense? Like yeah they might’ve told each other, but Hawks got involved because he’s on the list of Heroes that Enji trusts to deal with this sort of thing. (And also in a more personal way Enji was slightly projecting and seeing Hawks as another kid, so it’s like ‘ah yes tell the family he’s also family’. The Dabi situation quickly turns this into a ‘the only reason I’m not filing adoption papers is because he’s a future in-law now’)

But also Hawks and Miruko get along great and definitely talk about many things.

#submission #amnesia!dabi

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try-and-try-and-try-again · 11 days

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This is really random but I feel like I want to get it out and I don’t know where/who to so I’m getting it out here.

I am quite upset by my dad at the moment. In many ways he is wonderful. He supports me so much, more than he should have to. I feel bad that soon after he retired he basically ended up dropping his retirement plans and becoming my almost full-time carer but he has never complained and in fact continues to say he is proud of me and does so much.

However some of his views really bother me.

1. On Palestine - every time anyone mentions the atrocities going on he says everyone’s oversimplifying things. That Israel are not acting unacceptably, they are retaliating and defending themselves from Hamas. That Palestine started it etc. As if it makes what they seem to be doing less atrocious. I never know how to respond to him. He just insists everyone else is wrong.

2. On Covid vaccines - he attributes almost every death that happens at the moment to complications of the Covid vaccines (and says this is being covered up on purpose). He says it must be the case because people have died from blood clots etc. following vaccination but I feel like he is cherry picking data. He says they should never have been rolled out, the pandemic was an exercise in controlling people and making the vaccine/pharmaceutical industry large profits. Yes, governments did act questionably and wealthy people made a disgusting amount of money from the situation but to say that’s what the pandemic was all about when so many people died of Covid, especially at the beginning and everyone was so terrified… I feel like he is missing something. (Also he joined a rather sketchy seeming website called ‘Lockdown Sceptics’ which seemed to be used by lots of questionable figures).

3. Climate change - he says climate scientists are spreading panic, also humans can’t possibly be expected to drastically change their lifestyles, it isn’t fair so we should carry on business as usual. When I looked round environmental science departments at universities he’d try to pick arguments with climate scientists (when he has a college qualification in horticulture). When he was younger he used to be in Friends of the Earth. Now this.

4. Trans issues - he says it’s good that waiting lists for GICs are stupidly stupidly long and it’s really hard to access them because gender affirming care is not to be taken lightly and people are just confused about themselves and should be forced to take time to make decisions (but 7+ years for an initial consultation to just discuss things? Really? And what about all the time before asking to go to a GIC?). He says the Cass report does have validity. He says the new rules about no gender neutral bathrooms in new buildings and segregating trans people in hospitals are not unreasonable. (He also recently changed his mind about accepting my coming out as non-binary which kind of hurts).

5. Science - he says science in general, and particularly the medical field, is not trustworthy. That it is all funded and influenced by the government and Big Pharma and other corrupt corporations even if no conflicting interests are declared so no research is reliable. And he says “science isn’t about facts, it’s about debate” and that no one is letting things be debated. He is not a scientist. Why is he so sure he can claim this? He preached the words of YouTube ‘experts’ who make claims about things in fields they are not qualified in and YouTube doctors who say mainstream medicine is completely wrong and give diet and lifestyle advice etc. that personally I find quite unsettling. He says ‘well x says the data actually shows this’ and I say ‘have you actually looked at this data yourself?’. He says ‘no’ - he just blindly trusts these YouTube ‘experts’ opinions.

He is 76. And spends entire days trawling through Google on his laptop. I don’t know if that is worth mentioning. I don’t know, so many of his views sit uncomfortably with me and I just don’t know what to do or what to say to him. And he upsets my sister too because of some of these things so maybe it’s not just me being overly sensitive and wrong.

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bynux · 4 months

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There's a fine line between fundraising and spam. Do not send asks to random users asking for donations.

Even if it's medical

Even if it's not a scam and you're being genuine

Even if it's a desperate situation

Someone will report you for spam and it will throw a wrench into things, not to mention it just comes off as incredibly sketchy trying to put individual users on the spot.

#tumblr meta #ask byn #asks

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masterwords · 8 months

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Hi, I’d like to order a 32 please: A kiss while someone watches 😙

Coming right up! How about 2500 words of heart trouble that leads up to a heart-racing finish with a LOT of someones watching? Chicago retirement universe, football, sappy soft old men. This is unedited and scrappy, so please forgive glaring errors and halfway correct medical nonsense - I used to work in a coumadin clinic and with a cardiologist so I have some (probably outdated and definitely sketchy at this point) knowledge and that's about where we sit here. Forgive me for errors, I tried to remember things without trying to dive too far into research just to get them to kiss. We're in the CM universe, this is probably still closer to accurate than most of the show was. LOL (I'll put this on AO3 tomorrow. I have to go clean my house and get ready for a football game filled weekend of my own now.)

Warning ⚠️: heart problems & procedures, mention of death/implied abusive household (hotch's father)

(Send me a kiss (or LOTS of them) and I'll write you some hotchgan!)

Hotch hadn’t been to work in months. Summer vacation provided a clever cover for his ailing health, he thought. Usually he would pick up a summer course or two, just to keep busy, but it wasn’t required and this year he didn’t even consider it. His heart had begun to act funny sometime around spring break – nothing he hadn’t experienced before. Since Foyet, he’d had random periods of erratic heartbeats. Too fast, sometimes alarmingly so, but always over quickly. A few scary minutes accompanied by a seasick feeling and then back to normal. He would think about it for an hour after, sitting and waiting for the next one, for the Big One.

His father, riddled with cancer though he were, died of a heart attack right there in front of his eyes. One minute he was sitting on the couch talking, complaining about how dry his sandwich was (his mother made it without mayo, just meat and bread, because his body couldn’t tolerate the fat anymore) and then...everything stopped. His eyes went wide, his jaw went slack and he was gone. His heart just stopped, at least that’s the way Hotch remembered it. It was possible it didn’t go quite that way, he was young enough and filled with enough teenage vitriol that if he compared notes with his mother, it might look completely different. He didn’t care to find out, though. The idea that his father’s ticker just ceased to function one minute had always brought him some kind of strange comfort, scared as he was of it happening to him too. Like no matter how terrible a person he was, his clock had run out. His time was up. (Sean asked if his heart exploded, later, after the funeral. The image became ingrained in him, even now as an adult – a heart attack meant that your heart exploded gore in your chest, meat and blood everywhere. In relation to most people he hated the thought, but in relation to his father...well it seemed a fitting end.)

It came and went over the years, sometimes for days at a time, but his doctors assured him that it wasn’t anything to worry about. There were medications and treatments if it became persistent, if it didn’t reset on its own. It always did. He would worry his time was up, and then his heart would say no, not yet. You get another day, another week, another year. Just making sure you remember I’m here and I’m in charge.

But he was older now, and just before spring break as he taught a class on Criminal Law to his to his grad students, he felt his heart begin hammering in his chest faster than it ever had before. He put his hand on his chest and swallowed hard, that had always worked before somehow (maybe only by coincidence) but it only served to make him feel faint. Stubbornly, he pressed on and turning toward the white board, he looked up, squinted to read the words he’d written and grabbed for the red marker he intended to use.

The next thing he knew he was waking up on the floor with a sea of concerned faces staring down at him.

Most people could go a whole lifetime without collapsing in the middle of a presentation, yet he’d done it twice now. Where was the justice in that? The only silver lining was that this time he happened to wake back up before he was in an ambulance with an oxygen mask obscuring his face. (Just barely. The EMTs arrived just a few minutes later and he was alert enough to insist on standing with their help and walking to the ambulance rather than ride on the stretcher through the hallway of his university.)

This time, it didn’t reset on its own, not for hours.

This time Derek was called out of his classes, leaving his baseball team to the assistant coach so he could rush over and sit with Hotch while they attempted to get his heart back into a normal sinus rhythm. Even then, it was precarious. They didn’t expect it to last, not with the onslaught of concerning symptoms that brought him here in the first place. He went home with a pile of new prescriptions to try and treat it medically, all of which failed spectacularly in everything except making him feel like garbage. His least favorite was the re-introduction of blood thinners into his life. The last time he’d taken them was the months after Foyet when they feared that he was at risk of stroke due to the severity and location of his injuries, and the lasting effects those same injuries had on George Foyet himself. Hotch had argued that Foyet had stabbed himself more times, that he’d practiced, that nine was a lot less than what Foyet wore but he had taken the blood thinners dutifully then and he did now too. He suffered through weekly appointments to check his INR, make sure that everything was looking like it should, and because he had Jack and Hank and Derek looking at him like that...wondering if he was going to have a stroke...he never missed or rescheduled a single appointment even if it meant throwing his entire day into disarray. He limped himself along to the end of the year on sheer determination, refusal to cut and run before his students were finished with the courses they’d all begun together. He’d seen them this far, and if his last couple of lectures were given while he leaned heavily on the podium (or sat at his desk on one particularly bad afternoon) then so be it. They always forgave him.

As soon as school was out, he scheduled himself in for an ablation – a procedure to try and go at it from the inside. They assured him that he might feel bad for a while after while he healed, but it was likely to be the ticket. The way to get him back to feeling like himself. The way to get him off of the blood thinners.

The whole time he just felt tired. Not necessarily sick, just unable to do much of anything. His normally active lifestyle had become difficult and sometimes impossible. He and Derek would ride bikes on the weekends or run in the morning and he tried to maintain it, his doctors told him it was in his best interest to be as active as he could be, but some days were just too hard and he couldn’t keep up. No one in his family made him feel bad about it, he did that plenty on his own.

He was miserable, watching summer slip by without getting to do much more than lie in a lounge chair in the backyard and soak up whatever sun Chicago provided him with. He missed out on their usual big summer trips to wherever Savannah was working, he’d said goodbye to Derek and Hank and Jack as they flew to southern Mexico to spend two weeks with her at the ocean. He wasn’t up for the flight and knew they’d all just spend the whole time worrying about him if he went at all. He was better off at home, spending afternoons playing cards with Anthony and Fran while Cindi was at work or going to movies with Desiree and Sarah. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t enjoy himself, he just had to stay close to home because when the exhaustion hit him it hit hard.

Once he had the procedure, things would be better. He was certain. At least after the healing period which would probably make him seem worse, and for the most part, he was right. He’d still decided not to work for a while, to take the first semester of the year off. It wasn’t like he didn’t have the time built up. He probably could have worked, but he didn’t need to and he wasn’t in the habit of killing himself for his job anymore. Things were already looking up a few weeks after the procedure. His energy was slowly returning along with his appetite and his desire to get out and be part of the world. The ever present fear that he would collapse again in public started to slip back into the recesses of his mind. He wasn’t feeling good, necessarily, but he was feeling better. There was hope that he was on the upswing finally.

Occasionally he overdid it and there were setbacks, but he was being good. Taking his medication on time every day, not missing appointments, things his younger self would have deemed impossible. A luxury he didn’t have. Well, now he had it in abundance. He’d spent the day before in the backyard, getting it ready for winter while he had the energy to do it. Derek had started the job but he had no love for these tasks and would avoid them as long as he could – Hotch wanted to do it, he wanted to push his hands into the cold soil and prepare it to sleep. But being outside all day had come with an evening of exhaustion like he hadn’t had in weeks, and the next morning he could barely pull himself out of bed. His body was scolding him again. “Rest today,” Derek said, kissing him on the top of the head. “Please. For the love of everything holy, rest.”

“Yes sir.”

He did. He didn’t exactly stay in bed all day but he did take it easy. He was motivated to take it easy, he had a reason. And when Derek came out of the bedroom and saw Hotch standing near the door dressed in the highschool’s colors, bundled up with Derek’s beat up old ball cap on, he couldn’t really understand it. Not after the way he looked that morning. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” Hotch asked, checking the time. Derek frowned.

“It looks like you think you’re coming to the game. BOYS HURRY UP!” The last part was shouted as Derek turned back toward the hallway, a hallmark of dad-mode. Being able to carry on two simultaneous conversations, in different pitches and intensity, without skipping a beat. Jack shouted something back and something crashed against the floor, but Derek had already turned back to Hotch.

“I am coming to your game.”

“Like hell you are. You’ve been sick all day.”

“If I can sit at home then I can sit in the stands at a football game. It’s the state championship, Derek. You guys worked your tails off to get here, I’ve hardly seen you in months. How long has it been since your school has won?”

“Thirty years. We won when I was a senior.”

“Thirty years and I’m going to miss it because I’m tired?”

“Aaron…”

“Don’t Aaron me. I’m coming to watch you coach your team to a championship.”

“DAD!” Jack called, rushing down the hallway with Hank dangling upside down from his arms giggling. He was wearing his football jersey, minus the pads, and a pair of jeans that looked about two sizes smaller than Hotch would have preferred but he supposed that was the style these days. “You’re coming?!”

“Yes, I’m coming.”

“DADDY COMES!” Hank shouted, wiggling almost to the point of Jack dropping him.

“See? It’s settled.”

Derek gave him an unconvinced, almost exasperated look but he didn’t have the time to argue, he just took the whistle that Hotch extended to him with a smile and ushered them all out to the car in the cold October evening. They were playing on the Northwestern field, and some part of Hotch was a little worried – he’d taken the semester off to recover, to try anyway, and hadn’t seen his colleagues in months. He hoped they wouldn’t pay him too much attention.

The game moved fast – the crunch of shoulder pads, the shouting of gruff coaches and screaming of fans, the bright lights catching the freezing rain as it fell to the field and whipped around in the wind. The announcer called out name after name, and he watched Jack on the sidelines in his uniform cheering his friends on, holding a towel and wiping off game balls for the referees, helping keep the team hydrated. He was hoping to make Varsity next year, but his entire Junior Varsity team was there to cheer on the big guys and Jack was working a little extra hard to make sure his contribution was noticed. He couldn’t get onto Varsity by slacking, not with his dad coaching. He had to work twice as hard. It looked to Hotch, as he squinted at the full university stadium, that the whole city of Chicago had turned out to watch these boys from the south side bring home the title.

And when it came down to a field goal, when the whole stadium held its breath and watched that ball soar through the uprights, and when Derek was jumping around like a mad man amid shoulder pads and helmets and shouting crying teenagers, Hotch stood and cheered just as loud as anyone. His heart beat faster, thumped intensely in his chest, but it felt normal. The good fast. The kind that reminded him that he was alive and his body was built for a lot more than he gave it credit for sometimes. That he might be tired tomorrow but he would never get tonight back.

Being alive sometimes meant being uncomfortable, he realized as Derek bounded up the metal stairs taking two and three at a time, as he launched himself through the bleachers until he reached Hotch at his comfortable perch and practically threw himself at the man. “WE DID IT! WE DID IT! THEY DID IT!” He was beside himself with excitement, the pride of knowing what his kids had achieved, the memory of achieving it once himself so long ago he thought he’d forgotten but it felt the same now as it did then. It made his skin prickle, shock waves that made his bones jump, his head screaming for joy. The stadium had erupted in so much noise, but Hotch even with his bad hearing managed to hear him loud and clear, and when Derek wrapped him up and kissed him hard right there he didn’t put up a fight. He found his arms sliding around Derek’s waist, pinning them both in place, and the air sucked from his lungs, the beat in his heart all but stopping now. The stadium got quiet around them, the sound sucked into a vacuum, and then slowly a new sound erupted, a different kind of cheer, led by the football players on the field hooting and hollering. Hotch peeked one eye open to see the two of them kissing on the big screen right above the scoreboard, right above the score proclaiming their victory. He smiled into the kiss and closed his eyes again as fireworks began, and he let himself believe just for a moment that those fireworks were for them.

Being alive never felt so good. “Congratulations,” he whispered against Derek’s lips. “I love you.”

“Hot damn! I love you too baby! WE WON!”

#aaron hotchner #derek morgan #hotchgan #criminal minds #jack hotchner #hank morgan #chicago times universe

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highwaywhump · 1 year

Text

Surgery, part 1

This is a series! Masterlist here.

another panic attack? you bet. also hurr durr i’m not a medical professional.

this was originally 3.6k so i cut it on half. watch out for the other part

CW/TW: text not proofread. doctors, talk of surgery, struggling pet/dehumanized whumpee. not much honestly, next part is worse

The orthopedic surgeon works at a private medical center on the southside, too small to be a hospital but too big for a clinic. They’d been there one time already, to get x-rays, so the parking lot felt familiar to Aaron as the car rolled in.

“You okay?” he asks, looking over at Joey in the passenger seat.

Joey just nods, a stunted, staccato movement. His hands are tightly wound in his lap, partially disguised by the sweater he’s wearing. He’s good at hiding his feelings, but Aaron can tell. He’s not okay.

“I understand that it can be scary, Joey,” Aaron says softly, even though he doesn’t really understand. Can’t understand. The regulations for medical care at the WRU training facilities aren’t exactly open to the public, not to mention the sketchy care he’d been given by his previous owner - if he’d been given any at all.

Joey had been shaking like a leaf during the entirety of the previous visit, so much so that Aaron had been given one of those heavy aprons and had sat with him, holding his hand, while the x-ray technicians had set up the machine and taken the pictures. He hadn’t said a word during the whole visit, not for the car ride home either. When they entered the house he’d asked to be excused (which Aaron obliged to, of course) and he’d moved up the stairs with unusual velocity and been in his room for the rest of the day. Aaron took it to mean he wanted to be alone, so he had come up with a tray of dinner, lightly knocked and left it outside the door for him.

He pretended not to hear the stifled sobs behind the door as he went downstairs again.

“I wouldn’t ask you to do this if I didn’t think it would help you. You’ll walk normally again in a few weeks, and your collarbone will stop hurting.”

Joey nods again, not looking Aaron in the eye. Not that he did much of that anyways, but today he seems extra careful to keep his gaze on his hands.

“Look,” Aaron starts, turning towards him. He offers up hand, laying it to rest on the center console. “If it becomes too much in there, you just tell me and we’ll go home. Come back another day.”

Joey turns his head, carefully testing the waters as he movs his gaze up, first looking at Aaron’s open hand and then onwards, upwards, meeting his eyes. His look is unwavering, but wide and clearly terrified.

“I’ll be a good boy,” he whispers, and puts his own hand in Aaron’s open one, as if to stress the sentiment.

Aaron smiles, if only to hide the slight melancholy that blooms in his chest.

Of course you’ll be a good boy, he thinks halfheartedly. It seems like a survival technique, to retreat into that pet-mentality which admittedly was supposed to keep him safe. Pets had guidelines to follow, and were promised an easy go of it if they just adhered to them.

“But remember, you can’t call me Sir in there, okay? Just Aaron. Or nothing at all.” He adds the last part when he saw how Joey’s jaw tightened. He nodded again. Aaron squeezed his hand.

They had been offered a late appointment. Sunday night, which meant no other scheduled surgeries and probably no emergencies that needed attention. Dr. Perez had assured Aaron over the phone that she only trusted a select few of her nurses with patients such as Joey - who evidently wasn’t the first ex-pet she’d treated. They’d get a private room at the end of a hallway, which meant no reason whatsoever for anybody who didn’t belong there to come in.

The x-ray appointment, which had been an in-and-out in 30 minutes kind of situation, had been the same; outside normal office hours and with only two or three nurses who knew exactly what they were dealing with. They had an in-house accountant to handle the payment. It still meant insurance fraud, but it wasn’t Aaron’s fraud, and that made him feel marginally less worried about it all.

Aaron had carefully proposed the idea of a surgery on the last day of Joey’s sickness. They were both on the couch, Joey in Aaron’s arms with a thick blanket wrapped around himself. He hadn’t slept properly for days, except for short and fitful bouts here and there whenever the fever finally let him rest well. Aaron wasn’t much better off, worrying so much for his ward he’d probably developed gray hairs from it.

“Dr. Simmons gave me the contact info of a surgeon who could take a look at your leg. And your collarbone. Do you think you’d be up for that?”

Maybe it was unfair to ask him while he was so tired and out of it. Aaron knew he’d go along with any mere suggestion he’d come with - that was the nature of his training. But the bloodshot eyes that looked up at him from the bundle of blankets in his lap, told another story. Pain and fear, sure - but also relief, for the first time in days. Joey nodded, too tired to say anything. Tired from the pain, the fever, and probably from having to hobble along when walking, and from a throbbing clavicle that kept him from using his arm for anything other than scratching his nose.

Aaron had accepted the answer with a reassuring hand in his hair. He’d held the little one close, kept him warm and safe, and lulled him gently to sleep with a few fingers rubbing soothing circles on his temple.

But that was then and this was now. Gone was all the relief and the warm safety. Joey was stiff as Aaron helped him out of the car. Yes, they’d been here once before - but that time Joey had only been laying on his back on a table for a bit and then they’d gone home again.

Aaron supposed he could understand. Today, they’d cut into him.

–

Dr. Perez has a great bedside manner. She speaks directly to Joey in a tone without any condescension or disdain, Aaron notes, as she points to different parts of the x-ray picture on the screen of her tablet, explaining the procedure.

“What I’ll do is that I’ll make a tiny cut here, and then put the bone back together so that the angle is right, and put in a couple of screws to make sure it stays. And in six to eight weeks, you’ll be walking like it’d never been broken at all. Sounds good?”

Joey is timid and still almost petrified with fear, but he manages a slight stiff nod, a dip of his head, up and down. “Yes, doctor,” he whispers. His eyes even flit up to meet hers for a fraction of a second.

“You will be asleep during the whole procedure. You won’t feel anything at all. Okay? You’ll get all the pain medication you need after, as well. We will make this as comfortable for you as possible.” She leans forward and reaches out a hand. Joey stares at it, and for a few long seconds Aaron thinks he won’t do anything. But then he carefully unwinds his own hand from where it is gripping his other wrist, and gingerly places it in Dr. Perez’.

“Do you believe me when I say that, Joey?” she asks, and he nods again.

She smiles warmly at him, and it’s a true smile that shows off the crow’s feet around her eyes. She really means what she says next. “It’s important to me that you feel safe here, Joey. I want to help you. That’s why Aaron brought you here.” Aaron nods, even though Joey can’t see it, with the way he so stubbornly studies the toes of his winter boots, neatly placed by the edge of the hospital bed. He’s seated on it, already dressed in a patient gown, his bony shoulders protruding more than ever. His feet hang off the edge, slightly swinging.

Not for the first time, Aaron is struck by how young and fragile he looks.

“Okay,” Dr. Perez says as she checks her watch. “Becca will come by in a bit to prepare you. She’ll give you some medicine you need before we give you the anesthesia. In an hour, I’ll come get you and we’ll operate.” She guides Joey’s hand back into his lap and lets go. “You will be all good, Joey. I promise.”

Aaron has seen enough medical dramas to know that doctors can never promise anything, lest they’ll be sued. Dr. Perez means it.

Then again, they’re operating outside the law tonight. This surgery is officially not being performed, especially not on a person that officially doesn’t exist anymore.

Dr. Perez meets his gaze on the way out. Her brown eyes are genuine and solemn, an expression born of many years of soothing worried patients. They manage to calm even his pulse a little, even though he is not the one being cut open. She closes the door as she exits, leaving him and Joey alone.

“You doing okay?” he asks as he rounds the bed and sits down on the chair next to it, facing Joey. He takes the glass of water from the bedside table and offers it to Joey, who plucks it out of his hands and drinks - judging from the look on his face as he swallows, not because he’s thirsty. Just because Aaron asked him to.

“Yes, Sir,” he whispers weakly, and squeezes his eyes shut as he catches his mistake. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Just… try not to, when there are other people.” Even with all the precautions that have been taken, Aaron still can’t be entirely sure. They can’t risk any uninitiated understanding the full extent of their relationship. It’s better if they see him as a concerned friend or brother or uncle, not as… well. As Joey’s owner. He has seen the occasional headline of a pet who has been caught in situations they’re not allowed to be in by law. Usually, the punishment is a hefty fine. Sometimes it’s prison and forced removal.

Aaron has naturally read up on the legislation. If caught, tonight’s activities would result in the latter.

“Hey,” he mutters and reaches out, brushing Joey’s dark locks out of his face and behind his ears.

He seems to have a conflicted relationship to touch. Only a few short weeks ago, Aaron moving his hand towards his head would have resulted in Joey in a hysteria of apologies and groveling, afraid of being hit. But at the same time, he’d always chase after it when Aaron would remove his hand. All the hugs they’d shared in the time they’d had together had built a tiny pillar of trust, and now he leans into the palm of Aaron’s hand, turning his face towards it. For a moment he closes his eyes, takes a deep breath - as deep as he can, with how taut his muscles are wound.

“You’re going to be alright, Joey,” Aaron says and allows himself to lightly scratch him behind one ear.

He knows he shouldn’t. He knows it probably reinforces all the boundaries he’s working to break, and he knows all sorts of different thoughts will awaken in Joey’s head. But right now, maybe there could be an exception. Just to make him feel a little bit safer, given the circumstances.

And he does. Joey nearly melts into his hand, his eyebrows turning up. He bites his lip and Aaron can nearly see the stress running off his shoulders. He counts to three in his head, thinking he’ll retract his hand when he gets there, but changes his mind and counts to five, and then to ten. If Joey had been on his feet, his knees would have buckled.

At last, he lighty pulls back. Joey blinks his eyes open as he straightens his back, sitting back up.

“I think I saw a vending machine down the hall. Think you’ll be okay alone for a few minutes?”

Joey looks up at him, looking marginally less worried now. “Yes,” he says, his voice meek. Aaron isn’t sure if he agrees because he thinks he will, or if it’s to appease him. Nevertheless, he smiles at him as he moves towards the door.

“Okay. I’ll pick something up for you. Salted caramel, right?”

Joey nods quickly. Aaron thinks he can even see a slight upturn of the corner of his mouth.

–

The vending machine turns out to be on the floor below, of course, and it jams, of course, and several more minutes than Aaron would have liked have gone by before he finally reaches the hallway where Joey’s room is. Only… the door is open.

It hadn’t been when he left. He’d closed it, he’s certain.

A nurse rushes past him and dashes into the room before he can react. Something’s wrong, he figures.

Terribly wrong, judging from Joey’s frantic voice inside, begging for mercy.

Tags <3

@simplygrimly @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @briars7 @hackles-up @doveotions @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @kixngiggles @firewheeesky @maracujatangerine @nicolepascaline @whumpthisway @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @whumping-snail @pumpkin-spice-whump @pigeonwhumps

#cw doctors #cw talk of surgery #cw pet whump #cw conditioning #pet whump #pet whumpee #bbu #box boy whump #box boy universe #whump #whump fic #medical whump #<- not really but its a hospital so i guess

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shadamyheadcanons · 2 years

Note

As a long-time Shadamy Shipper, it's very hard to not see literally every interaction between the two as if you've got the Goggles welded firmly in place. Take the marriage proposal ask during the latest Takeover as an example. Ignoring for a second that the format had Amy being the one to read the ask, there's also his "Demands" that he gave for a prospective partner. First up is the Linen Demand. While it's not unreasonable to expect Shadow to be a bit of a perfectionist, if it's something he actually cares about, he doesn't seem the type to leave something that important to someone who might get it wrong, or worse, not up to his standards.

Then there's his insistence on making food "like he had back on the ARK". In a previous Takeover, he complains about how everything on the Ark was some combination of bland, stale, or soggy, and in multiple asks in several takeovers and even this latest one, he consistently shows preference for strong flavours, and in the latest he even mentions that the reason he eats the coffee beans themselves is because he prefers the taste undiluted (and also he compliments Amy's taste in desserts in a later ask, but that's got nothing to do with the point I'm trying to make).

And then there's his "20 step skincare routine". Thing is, we know two details about Shadow that make this kinda sketchy. One, he's immortal and presumably ageless. His incarceration on Prison Island was less "Cryogenic Storage" and more "Medically Induced Coma". Two, he's not particularly vain. While he's proud of how he looks, he doesn't particularly seem the type to be that concerned with his looks degrading, if they even can.

All of this seems to me like he's trying to seem as fussy as possible to drive off potential suitors/suitresses so that in a hypothetical future where Amy stops chasing Sonic, he'll be available.

Combining these two. If you missed the Sonic Twitter Takeover from a few days ago, it’s up on youtube.

To be honest, I have some very...mixed feelings about the Sonic Twitter Takeovers. I’m currently writing a silly headcanon about it.

Yeah, the Shadamy Goggles are real. See, I don’t feel the need to do this with every ship, but given that these two only interact, like, twice a decade? We’re starving!

The marriage proposal question referenced here starts at 18:18 in that video. The writers just-so-happened to make Amy the one to read, “Shadow, will you marry me?” The fact that six characters could have read that and the writers specifically chose Amy was probably a coincidence, but hey, crumbs!

That’s definitely one way of looking at his answer. My brain took me in a slightly different direction, though of course it was still geared toward shadamy. Shadow cares about cleanliness? So does she. She’s the most likely character in the whole cast to complain about things being gross. He wants someone who can handle his dietary restrictions? She’s canonically a good cook. And although the concept of Shadow needing skincare to look young is completely, canonically wrong, we know he does care about his looks to some extent:

Spiffy hedgehog. Love how consistent this is.

To me, all of that just sounded like “I want someone who won’t judge me for that.” And Amy wouldn’t. Hell, he even offered lavender, and Amy loves flowers.

Source: Sonic channel website

What I’m saying is that whether he meant it or not, Shadow described Amy. None of the others characters would fit.

Now, the one who asked the question was RealShadowFan01. I’ve been joking all day that “RealShadowFan01” is just Amy’s secret Twitter alt. She was pretty defensive about that account and wanted them to be heard. I was mostly joking, but then I actually looked up the account, and this is their profile picture:

And you know what? I’ll take it.

As for the second ask:

I’m not surprised at all that Shadow and Amy came across as compatible, and that’s not just the Goggles talking this time. She’s consistently been the one to reach out to him. Sonic and Knuckles often argue with Shadow. Tails is too attached to Sonic to cross over. And Eggman’s a villain. But Amy? Sweet, sociable Amy who gives everyone a chance and has a very real history with Shadow? Of course she’s the one he connected with. I’m sure he knew she was the least likely to tease him about his answers, too, and she proved as much with the Taylor Swift question. She’s kind and genuine and the only thing that surprised me about it is that these two don’t wind up together like that more often than they do.

I didn’t really like Sonic in this Takeover. His dialogue was...not great. The intro really bothered me. When Sonic found out Amy was there, he got legitimately irritated, like we were being dragged back to the “Ugh, she’s here, too?!” years, where he treated Amy like she doesn’t belong. I’m glad they went out of their way to say Tails invited her so we know she wasn’t unwanted by the whole gang. Only Sonic seemed to mind. See, I thought they were setting up for some Sonic x Amy questions later on. For these Takeovers, they usually have Sonic act nervous when Amy’s brought up, as if he likes her and he’s just shy and can’t talk around her, even though he talks to her just fine in the games. But they didn’t have any questions about that at all, so there was just this weird bit in the beginning where Sonic was mean for no reason. No explanation. I didn’t like that. He hasn’t treated her like that in, what, ten years, probably?

And that’s my problem with Sonic Twitter Takeovers: the character portrayals. They rely heavily on fandom perceptions of the characters, especially outdated perceptions. They pad things out by referencing old bits of trivia, like Tails liking mints or Knuckles liking grapes, but they miss huge, obvious facets of canon.

Sonic and Amy are friends. He treats her well.

Amy’s favorite dessert isn’t strawberry shortcake. It’s soft serve ice cream.

Shadow doesn’t need an anti-aging skin routine. He’s a fucking ageless immortal hedgehog.

A stickler like me can’t help but get a little bent out of shape about it, particularly because Takeovers are so often taken as gospel. People treat these like they’re canon. I know they’re “just for fun,” and I do enjoy them for the most part, but to say it’s all for laughs and doesn’t have any influence over the franchise just isn’t true.

Anyway, look forward to that headcanon! I’m excited to share it!

#not a headcanon #ask #dracoiich #anonymous #Shadamy

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