#ive been taking steps to at elast try and make it happen again i just cannot keep being in this damn rut i hate it

[cohozuna]

one of the biggest things i had to come to grips with art wise is that i can do realism pretty well but just completely fail at anything stylized. sure i can make a pretty picture from what i see but what does it matter when the only thing people take from it is "waow so good thought it was a picture" yeah its a compliment but its one that makes me feel awful bc i realize i do not want my shit to look like a picture. i FUCKING SUUUUCK at drawing and that isnt me being hehe quirky artist who says they cant draw and actually can i mean this shit is difficult as fuck and nobody would understand the extent to how awful i am at actually drawing unless they see me try to. all of my finished pieces were absolutely painstaking and i see ppl do the stuff that takes me many hours much quicker and with more personality with about the same experience shit makes me insane i am trying to learn but my god its like my brain just does not want to cooperate with me it makes it so so hard because i just have an awful mental block. genuinely used to just draw effortlessly (albeit not as well so at least i AM improving somewhat) but now even the simplest shit just overwhelms me. idk what it is. i like to think im pretty good with paintings but god it is so so difficult to do what i wanna without it taking far too long. i am so jealous of ppl who can do quality sketches on a whim. ive noticed i do a lot better blocking out a silhouette and then drawing lines over that when i sketch. makes me think im just not very line-brained?? stupid way to put it idgaf its 5 am. Truly the best thing has been drawing on a shared canvas or on stream idk why it works but it does it just kinda lets me actually make something. i dont wanna just whinge and cry about it but it is truly aggravating and so deeply frustrating to feel like im regressing in my ability to Just Draw because its undoubtedly a psychological thing. ive just been in this rut for yrs now its awful. thinking about buying a sketchbook again tbh

#goodnight #i kust dont know how to explain it #i know im not unique here i am not the specialest most tormented artist #but holy fuck does it feel like its especially bad for me #its been like this for years now #im getting better while drawing far less and with much greater difficulty #i think im just mentally ill im ngl #its some sort of fear of inadequacy i dont know god that is so gay DHUT UP!!! #i wanna enjoy art again and i wanna do it more often god damnit im going to make it happen #ive been taking steps to at elast try and make it happen again i just cannot keep being in this damn rut i hate it #god i am so mad i #and i do enjoy my paintings i just think #that theyre lame #when i do them again i want to do more original shit and put some meaning and feeling to it beyond 'waow impressive' #i have lots of ideas for shit like that its just difficult ss fuck to actuslly get myself to do it #lazy motherfucker!!!

[copper-wasp]

Even a Devil May Drabble: Vergil x Reader - Pillow Part IV

So I have had this finished for like months and just forgot to post it because I am Queen Smooth Brain. Enjoy! 

Words: 1275

Rating: Explicit

-:- -:- -:-

Vergil crashed his lips against yours, tongue shoving past them to explore your mouth, hot and needy. Rolling you onto your side, he pulled you close to him, hands caressing down your back, pushing up the hem of your shirt to touch your impossibly hot skin. He broke away from kissing you only long enough to divest you of your shirt, stormcloud eyes roving greedily over your breasts. He bent his head to kiss the swell of them, fingers already busying themselves with your nipples, stroking and pulling until they were hardened pebbles. He slipped one into his mouth, biting down gently until you gasped, your hands scrabbling for purchase on his back. He lavished your other pert bud with the same dangerous attention as the first, sucking and biting until you were nearly boneless in his grasp.

Looking up at you, you focused on the smirk playing on his full lips, before they disappeared from your field of view to lavish your neck with searing kisses. Nipping at your pulse point, you pushed your hips against his, craving the friction of his hard cock against your sex.

“Vergil....” you moaned, dragging your nails down his back until he tensed.

“Do you want something, darling?” he asked coyly, pushing you onto your back to box you in, feeling nothing but his weight on top of you, his sharp, woodsy scent overwhelming you.

“Y-yes... I want you to... take your clothes off,” you replied as he kissed down your jaw. Your hands were already working at pushing up his soft shirt, craving the feel of his smooth skin against yours. Moving to straddle you, he pulled his shirt up and over his head, giving you the magnificent view of his chest. He was muscular without being bulky, the morning light playing nicely on each dip of his abdominals, your eyes tracing down each one.

You reached up to drag your fingertips down his skin, your face obviously betraying your enthrallment, if his amused smile was anything to go by. You’d had his dick in your mouth already, but for some reason seeing his chest heave with each breath was mesmerizing and incredibly arousing. You felt your slick already pooling in your panties, your body a few steps ahead of your mind.  

He dipped his head down to kiss your sternum, dragging his lips down your stomach inch by torturous inch. You wove your fingers into his hair, his chin pushing down the elastic of your shorts as he lavished your skin with kisses. He scooted back on the bed to pull your remaining clothing off, his eyes roving hungrily over your naked flesh.

“Stunning,” he murmured, running his hands up your legs, soft as he caressed your skin. You looked away from him, embarrassment blossoming across your cheeks. “Now that won’t do,” he added, and you felt his thighs on your hips once again, slender fingers turning your face back over to look at him.

You wanted to protest, but he silenced you with a sweet kiss, his hardness pressing insistently against your core. “I want you to look at me, my dear. Watch me while I take you, while I ruin you. Look at me when I give you your release.” He nipped at your jaw, a shiver coursing down to your toes. He took your distracted state to roll off of you and pull off his pants and boxers, both of you finally completely naked to one another.

He pulled you close to him once again, his hand trailing down to your dripping cunt, plunging two of his slender fingers inside. You mewled, eyes rolling back as he prepared you for his cock.

“I have no time to be patient with you,” he said, pulling his fingers out and pressing them against your lips. You opened your mouth to him, sucking your slick off of his fingers.

“Please, Vergil. I’m ready,” you whispered as he positioned himself on top of you, crown teasing your folds.

“You’re sure?” he asked quietly, waiting for your response. You nodded, wrapping your arms around him, never having been more ready for anything in your life.

Steadily, he slid himself inside your warmth, capturing your lips in a soft kiss. The softness was short lived, though, as he seated himself fully with a sharp thrust of his hips, every last inch of his length nestled inside your cunt, welcoming and wet for him.

He groaned deliciously, withdrawing so just the tip was still inside and slamming back inside, thoroughly fucking you into the mattress. He slid his arms beneath your shoulder blades, pulling himself down flush against your body, his weight and scent and presence all encompassing.

You whispered his name, looking into his eyes as he claimed you. You moved to kiss him but he pulled away with a smirk. You bit your lip instead, trying to silence the moans pouring forth from your lips, but Vergil slowed his thrusts, enough for a childish whine to escape instead.

“Don’t keep those sweet noises from me,” he said, his hips moving in a single languid thrust to have your back arching against him.

“B-but...” you began, sucking in a breath when you felt Vergil’s lips on your neck, teeth grazing the skin. “Dante could... hear us....”

Vergil chuckled, the deep timbre of it nearly enough to have you fall apart right then. “Perhaps we should let him,” he whispered, breath hot on the shell of your ear, fucking into you with renewed vigor. He had a goal now, after all.

Fullness consumed you as you clawed at Vergil’s back, the sheer thickness of him making your eyes roll back. You let your moans tumble from your lips, forming a chorus with the knocks of the headboard against the wall. You felt him shift, and soon after your heels were hooked over Vergil’s shoulders, his hands gripping your ankles to hold you in place. He looked down at you hungrily, and you knew your audible moans and whines were like sweet music to him.

“Do you like this, pet?” he asked, thrusting harder, “Because I love seeing you like this.”

“Yes! Fuck, yes! Don’t... don’t stop!” you cried out, pushing your head back into the pillows, body arching away from the mattress.  There was no way Vergil’s twin didn’t know what was happening, but you couldn’t find it in you to care, not when you were so close to coming.

Vergil pressed down on your legs, his cock rubbing against the roof of your cunt, bottoming out with each thrust and you clenched, gripping the sheets for dear life as you tumbled over the edge into bliss.

“O-oh.... Ver... gil....” you whispered, muscles still spasming around his length, your core warm with molten heat. You said his name a few more times, drunk off your climax, barely able to keep your eyes on him. You managed, wanting to see him when he spilled himself inside you, see his face, wondering if he’d look you in the eyes.

He didn’t disappoint, his gaze holding yours when you felt him still, just a few shallow thrusts as he filled you. Your breaths still coming in gasps, you watched as his eyes left yours for just a moment, rolling back just a little as he lets his control fade, enjoying the pleasure of his climax. He helped your legs back down, caressing them the entire way, before moving to hover over you, catching your lips in a sweet kiss.

You kept him there, the heat from his body and the weight of it gently pressing against you making you feel safe and protected.

-:- -:- -:-

Thank you for reading!

You can find me on AO3 and twitter!

#copper-wasp writes #vergil x reader #devil may cry #dmc

[iceeckos12]

tma fic recs

I’ve seen a couple of fic rec posts floating around. since ive been reading so many excellent fic recently, i thought that id make one as well! please note this list is going to be 99% jonmartin. also buckle up, because this is going to get long.

Completed

the umbrella by Wildehack (tyleet)

"And to think—all of Jonah Magnus’ carefully laid plans, the centuries of scheming, the murders, the sacrifices, all of that work could have been completely undone if Martin Blackwood had gone back for an umbrella" - holdthosebees

Notes: This is probably my go-to fic if i want an apocalypse never happened scenario. The jonmartin is wonderful, as is the h/c.

Diary and Prenon-nous la main by luftballoons99

Diary summary:

Not for the first time since they ran away together, a camera reel of all the things they don't know about one another whirs behind Martin's eyes, and he can't help but look at all the sprawling magnetic tape and wonder if they’re going to wind up a romance or a tragedy.

or: Office parties, garage bands, and the joy of being known.

Prenon-nous la main summary:

They still haven't talked about it, any of it, not even to pass the time on the long train ride to Scotland. Instead, Martin fell asleep in the seat next to him, pressed into his side from shoulder to knee, and Jon thought about love confessions and verb tense and how the two fit together when you think you're dying.

or: Good cows, mediocre poetry, and other crucial topics of discussion.

Notes: Do you love impeccable safehouse jonmartin characterization? do you love characters grappling with the mortifying ordeal of being known? do you love softness so tender that it makes you want to weep? please read these fic. im begging you.

i’ll tell you about all the times i’ve smiled because of you by cryptidkidprem

Summary:

Martin thinks about their shoes, sitting beside each other on the floor by the bed. Thinks of the way Jon wears Martin’s cardigans more often than he wears his own, the way Martin’s started keeping elastics around his wrist because Jon always forgets his own when they go out.

He thinks about all the gentle touches and fussing over each other they’ve done, and how much is still to come over the next… however long Jon will have him.

They have a long way to go, an entire life to build out of the wreckage Jonah Magnus and Peter Lukas left them, but laying together in a comfortable, sleepy quiet, Martin thinks they’ve got a good start going.

Or, Jon quits the Institute, saves the world, and it turns out to be exactly what he needs in order to heal and start moving forward towards building a life with Martin.

Notes: how many times have i reread this fic? more than i can count. jon quits the institute and it’s just full of soft jonmartins. they get married! god i love them.

go softly by doomcountry

Summary:

And there is nothing else besides this.

Notes: every time i remember this fic i reread it. please heed the tags because martin is blinding jon, but he’s like. blinding jon in the most heartbreaking way possible. idk how the author made this so tender but i know i was certainly crying so!

The Reverb in These Holy Halls by  Wolftraps (AlwaysBoth)

Summary:

Undoing the apocalypse would have been enough for Jon, if all his people survived. Without them, Jon's only recourse is making it so it never happened in the first place. He's going to do better this time.

Notes: Do you like time travel fixits? i sure like time travel fixits. reverb is an excellent one. heavy on the h/c, I wanted to hug jon so so badly. 

Yesterday is Here by  CirrusGrey

Summary:

"Who the hell are you?" Jon could feel his hands shaking. The man laughed, taking a step forward and raising a hand to point at him. "I'm you, from the future!" he said, then swayed, eyes going unfocused, and collapsed to the floor in a dead faint. -------- Post-season-four Jon and Martin time travel back to the season one Archives.

Notes: Yet another time travel fixit! also excellent. the teasing was HYSTERICAL. also Im just going to say this now - CirrusGrey in general writes incredible tma fic. You can’t really go wrong.

unassigned supplementals by  bibliocratic 

Notes: I won’t put in a summary just because it’s a long series of oneshots, but bibliocratic’s writing is amazing. Again, you can’t really go wrong with one of their fic!

let the soft animal of your body by autoclaves

Summary:

Standing in the warm kitchen, slats of sepia light filtering through onto the counter in front of him, Martin doesn’t know what to do with his hands. He half expects them to go through the countertop entirely, glossy and solid as it is. He isn’t used to any of it, yet. The safehouse. Jon. Beams of sun pouring into his hands. After being deprived of everything of significance for so long, the longing that crashes over him is almost painful in its tangibility. He wants to laugh, to sob, to scream and hear it echoed back against the neat, square walls of the safehouse.

In the end, he doesn’t do any of these things. He makes eggs instead. He can do that, can’t he? Use his hands for something simple and plain and good.

(Or: In the safehouse after it all, Martin starts cooking.)

Notes: this fic really speaks to me a) because i project on martin like crazy and b) because food is also my love language. this fic is incredibly soft and it’s all about cooking!

“Have you tried turning it on and off again?” by shinyopals

Summary:

I hope you find your new role as Head of the Institute as rewarding as captaining the Tundra, wrote Elias Bouchard, to Peter Lukas. There are so many people working there: all with their own interesting lives, and all desiring your attention and support. I'm sure you will relish the challenge it will bring and enjoy every moment spent with the fine men and women of the Institute. In time I'm confident they'll become like a family to you.

The Magnus Institute has a new boss. The Magnus Institute also has a new tech support technician. These two facts are unrelated, except they both happen at the same time.

Meanwhile Jon's woken up from being dead for six months and for once he's trying his best. He just wishes Martin would stop avoiding him and answer his messages...

Notes: if you’re looking for a good laugh, this fic is SO SO SO FUNNY. i was dying. basically the magnus institute being an absolute bureaucratic nightmare.

hello my old heart  by  firebirdsuite

Summary:

Peter’s wrong, of course. When it’s all over, Martin does still want to tell Jon everything. It’s just—well, there’s a few things they need to work through first before they can get there.

Martin and Jon find each other again in Scotland.

Notes: it’s all about the yearning. and trust me, the yearning in this fic? im just. i sure do love jonmartin, and this is such soft, loving jonmartin it just makes you want to cry

two ships passing by pyrites

Summary:

Gerard Keay is 10 years old the very first time he tries to run away from home, right around the time that Jonathan Sims has just come into possession of his first Leitner.

Or: One dropped stone can change the way the whole ocean moves.

Notes: again, JONGERRY. MY GOODNESS. this fic is beautiful, the writing is absolutely breathtaking and it owns my heart. im so in love with it. the author said you’re going to have emotions about jon and gerry and jongerry and i said OKAY

Terminal Sight by viv_is_spooky

Summary:

Spider silk weaves through the visions of two Seers. Monstrosity is dawning on them both.

Notes: I’d never read a gerryoliver fic before this, but the execution is EXCELLENT and now im sold on the ship forever. This fic has wonderful prose and great characterization and i love it a whole lot.

Incomplete

assistant archivist au by  PitViperOfDoom

Notes: I won’t put a summary since I’m reccing an entire series, but. it is absolutely no secret that i adore jongerry. pit’s assistant archivist au slapped me over the head with some gorgeous jongerry oneshots and then gave me the gift of the main fic (which is still in progress) about head archivist martin. i love this au so so much

dustsceawung by  callmearcturus

Summary:

Martin had always been favored by the summer courts, and moving up north to the little village of Lacuna is a difficult adjustment. It's rainy and lonely and everyone seems to have a strange, distant relationship with the local faerie court.

However: there is a strange man in a cloak who walks past Martin's remote little cottage every few days.

However: there is a moth that keeps getting stuck in Martin's house during the rain.

These events are not as disconnected as they first appear.

Notes: you ever just read a fic that you didn’t know that you needed until after you read it? yeah. featuring the fae and moth jon and excellent characterization.

Illicio by ThatOneGirlBehindYou

As the new Archivist debates between life and death, the Eye ponders on what to offer him in order to avoid an encore of the unfortunate situation with his predecessor.

-----

Gerard Keay opens his eyes at what feels like fuck-ass in the morning, inside a room with far too little space and far too much dust.

Notes: This is also the moment where I reveal that im a sucker for jongerrymartin. please read this fic. gerry is brought back from the dead in s4 and everyone is far better off for it.

where there’s a will, we make a way by bubonickitten

Summary:

"So, what does happen if an Eye learns to See within itself?

What happens is this: the Archive Beholds the Watcher – and the Watcher blinks first."

________________________

Jon goes back to before the world ended and tries to forge a different path.

Notes: this time travel fixit is shaping up to be an absolutely incredible read. i love the way this author writes jon so so much, and the characterization is spot on. this whole fic just satisfies some little part of me. god. also!! bubonickitten’s writing in general? beautiful. please check out their other works.

The Timeline of Theseus by Applea

Jon tries to force the Spiral to send him back, but the Sprial's corridors never twist things quite the way you want them to. Back in 1996, Elias has no idea why or how the Eye made such a powerful Avatar out of an 8 year old, especially when said 8 year old doesn't actually know he has any powers at all. Clearly such a child cannot be left outside the Institute's care. 

Notes: This fic is legitimately brilliant. The author manages to capture the big ADHD mood and the precociousness of baby Jon while managing to write a wonderful storyline. Time travel! Elderly lesbians! A Jonah who is wildly in over his head but was walloped over the head with paternal instinct! Baby Gerry! What more could you possibly ask for?

rooms full of people who do not love each other yet by seaer

Summary:

“Wanted to ask about a book.” The boy has his hand on the counter, and he leans into it, nonchalant. The library is air-conditioned, but by no means frigid, and Jon can’t help but feel sweaty just looking at the layers he’s wearing; what looks like old leather over an olive-green Magnus pullover over his school shirt. “Do you have A Journal of the Plague Year?”

Jon says, tetchily, “We’re about to close.”

“I know. Do you have A Journal of the Plague Year?”

Notes: I am so in love with this author’s writing style and the way they write the characters!! The jon and gerry friendship is PERFECT and the character interactions are all darling.

if you read these fics please send the authors some love, they definitely deserve it!! 

#tma #fic recs #ill update this as i read #seriously some very very good stuff on here #long post

[cheswirls]

everything is quiet.

it’s nice, he realizes, as he opens his eyes to face blurry white. he’d become so accustomed to hearing anguished sounds -cries of pain, cries for help, cries for death- that he’d almost forgotten what peaceful silence was like.

it takes the entire time his vision clears enough to where he can make out the texture of the ceiling for him to realize the white is sterile, and his nose burnt not from the smell of carnage, but heavy antiseptic. sabo has been in enough hospitals in his lifetime to put it together. his eyes open wide and he props himself up in a hurry, wincing as it strains the bandages around his chest. he moves one hand to rub at them, frowning, and his eyes trail from his wrist to the iv bag it hooked up to. his pulse monitor is beside it, steady beep-

wait. no.

he drops his hand back to the bed, leaning forward more. the line was steady, and the read was normal, but there was no noise coming from the machine. 

movement has him looking up, and he’s suddenly staring in the face of a very puzzled nurse, clutching a clipboard and sat on the edge of a rolling stool. her expression breaks and she relaxes, settling back down, though she stumbles over her words.

or, at the very least, says them too fast for sabo to read her lips. his frown deepens. she’s speaking, it’s very clear, so then the problem is him. he moves his gaze away, ignoring her temporarily, and lifts a hand to snap by his ear.

nothing.

he puts a palm over it, and then the same to the other, feeling around. no bandages. no injuries that he can tell. so then why . . ?

maybe there was an explosion or something. he hardly remembered getting out. anything could have happened.

he turns back to the nurse, who has stopped talking to examine him. he gestures to his ears, then shakes his head. it’s enough for her to rise, taking the clipboard with her and leaving the room in a rush.

sabo leans back, content to wait. everything is quiet, still, but it’s no longer a comfort. now it’s a concern, hopefully one that goes away very soon.

the nurse comes back with an older man in a white coat, a younger girl in scrubs, and dragon. sabo’s focus immediately diverts to the latter, who quickly comes to his bedside and kneels over to press his hands to the thin sheets. 

sabo’s joy at seeing his mentor fades as he opens his mouth and speaks with no sounds, just like the nurse from before. his temporary smile settles into a flat line, and his eyes slant. 

dragon pauses, noticing his change, and then tries again. sabo, he mouths, and sabo can get that, he knows his own name. but as slow as he goes, sabo’s never been a good lip-reader, and his frustration becomes evident enough to wave a hand in the air, stopping dragon before he can continue.

luckily, the doctor takes over before it becomes an issue, settling on sabo’s other side. he holds up a penlight to his ear, and sabo nods, turning his head to grant him access. his earlobe is pulled down, the light flicks on, everything is done in a matter of seconds. the other one yields the same results. the doctor pulls back and gestures to the young nurse. the one with the clipboard jots something down. sabo frowns.

“what’s the problem?” he asks.

they all ignore him. he opens his mouth to speak again but dragon jostles his shoulder, turning him back toward his mentor. he looks more concerned, now. must be whatever they were saying.

“am i okay?” he asks. but he doesn’t. his throat tickles, and he swallows, but the discomfort doesn’t settle. he thinks he would be rasping if he could talk, but he can’t feel the vibrations that come with speech, much less hear the words come out.

dragon understands, that was a simple enough question, but he looks almost stricken. he looks behind sabo and sabo follows to see all three staff members staring back, like they couldn’t believe it.

“will someone tell me what’s going on?” sabo asks again. everyone in the room exchanges glances without looking at him again. the nurses start talking. the one from earlier, with the clipboard, moves closer until she holds sabo’s attention. with the pen she holds, she gestures to her lips, then shakes her head, a perfect mirror of his movements from before.

it’s enough. he gets it.

and he doesn’t need hearing to know the heart monitor begins to pick up, chiming along with his racing pulse.

the doctor rocks forward to settle a hand over sabo’s own, but sabo rips it away, pulling back. he turns toward dragon and starts waving his hands around, ignoring how it pulls at the needle under his skin. “do something!” he says, but he doesn’t, because no sound is leaving his mouth. that doesn’t stop him from trying to talk, blubbering onward. “what happened? why am i like this? i need something to write with. type? a whiteboard? a-”

sabo whips his head around, eyes wide, and gestures to the nurse with the clipboard. she steps up and sabo lurches forward to grab the pen from her hands before she can refuse to give it to him. he clicks it and sets the ink to the skin of his forearm while he still has the advantage of surprise, writing a short message and holding his arm out for dragon to see.

‘my phone’

he looks up and dragon shakes his head. damn. a con of being kidnapped -your personal belongings were certainly discarded. he moves the pen back down, crossing out the my, but dragon stops him before he can replace it with your, understanding what he meant. he takes the pen from sabo’s hand and replaces it with his cell, opened to a text-to-speech function. sabo wastes no time in typing out a message.

“what the hell is wrong with me,” the phone speaks, reciting his quick message. or, he assumes it does, based on the looks it garners from those present. he types another one. “why can’t i hear? why can’t i speak?” 

dragon opens his mouth before realizing that was a bad idea, then turns his head away. sabo follows again to see the door open and the young nurse move into the room with a whiteboard. he hadn’t even realized she had left.

dragon takes the phone from sabo as the doctor is handed the whiteboard. he types a message and hands it back as the doctor writes out his own. sabo glances down.

we’re going to figure it out.

that was it. no ‘everything will be fine’ because dragon didn’t sugarcoat and he didn’t tell lies. sabo had about a million questions running through his mind but those six words manage to calm him down enough to focus on the doctor holding up the whiteboard.

can we draw blood for a sample?

sabo nods and the doctor moves back to make room for a nurse. she wraps an elastic around his upper arm and sabo bites down on his lip hard enough for it to bleed. he turns his head away, dropping the phone to reach out, and dragon grabs him, holds his hand steady in his grip. he feels the press of the needle and breathes out through his nose, but it’s rough. he tries to focus on the clean sheets, remind himself he was in a hospital, with people that would take good care of him.

it doesn’t help. lucky for him, dragon doesn’t complain about having the life squeezed from his hand. he taps sabo with his pinky to let him know they were done, and sabo pulls back with a sigh as the nurse finishes securing wrap around the broken skin.

when he looks up again, the only one in the room is dragon. he’s taken the whiteboard for himself, scribbling about as neat as he could manage. he turns it around and sabo has to resist the laugh bubbling in his throat at the sight of the poor handwriting. not like it would be heard anyway. 

it’s strange. nothing you do makes any sound.

how eloquent. well, that actually put a few things into perspective. the nurse being surprised he was sitting up probably didn’t notice he was awake and moving until he was reaching for the iv drip, for one. 

“what about my ears?” dragon’s phone says.

nothing wrong with them.

great. what else could it be. something stupid serious. maybe he was dying. it would make sense. he lost count of all the stuff they did to him in-

sabo bends forward, breathing out deep, trying not to have a violent reaction to the mere thought. dragon jumps up, moves closer, and after a moment sabo waves him off. he types a message on the phone and throws it to the side, then lies all the way back down. 

wake me when they have the results.

he must be on something heavy, because he has no problem returning to sleep. just before, he feels a hand squeeze his shoulder. reassurance. dragon wasn’t going anywhere.

-

the next thing he knows he’s being shaken awake. it’s unnerving, and he has the entirely wrong reaction, leaping out of the hold and scooting all the way back until he’s curled tight against the pillows. his eyes scan the room, taking everything into account. white. seafoam green scrubs. monitors. dragon. dragon.

sabo momentarily relaxes, his shoulders drooping. they regain their tension as he realizes the discomfort he felt came from his chest, and legs, and one spot on his left arm. reluctantly his legs slide down until they’re curled against the mattress and not his chest. he sighs and looks to dragon, nodding once, their signal to show the other was okay.

dragon is frowning. he glances to the door without turning his head, and sabo does the same, surprised to find it was open. people were talking just outside.

dragon scribbles on the whiteboard and turns it around for sabo to read. no sound inside the room, it says. 

sabo frowns. that didn’t make any sense. ‘why’, he mouths, and dragon erases the marker with his sleeve to write a new message.

they’re giving you an anti-meta drug.

right as he finishes reading, he feels something cool in his wrist. turning around reveals one of the nurses messing with the iv drip. she gives him a thumbs up and moves back to the open door.

sabo repeats his earlier word and dragon writes a new message. he caps the marker after, which was a signal of finality if he’d ever seen one.

explain after it takes effect.

that didn’t help anything. he still had more questions. why were they giving him that drug? he didn’t have meta powers. why was the entire room soundproof and not just him? what made dragon so sure the drug would work? why did they have to wait until after? 

but dragon already showed he wasn’t willing to reveal more, so he was stuck here waiting. it wouldn’t take that long, right? weren’t these things supposed to work pretty quick, if they did at all?

not like he could ask anyone. dragon wouldn’t know. the nurses weren’t coming inside. they’d even moved away from the door, probably assured dragon would grab them if something happened. 

sabo leans back against the pillows, crossing his arms in a perfect imitation of his mentor. eventually, he doesn’t know how much time has passed exactly, but dragon gets up, shaking his cell and nodding towards the door. sabo waves him off, throwing his head back to look up at the ceiling.

he must close his eyes, because the sound of his name has them opening. he hums, tired, and rolls his head to the side. his hair sliding across the rough fabric of the pillowcase is loud in his ear.

“good. it looks like you can hear me this time.”

he hums again, slowly realizing why this was a good thing. he tips his head all the way forward and is met with a much more crowded room than last time. dragon is on his iv side now, and a physician and assistant in dark blue scrubs line the other side of his bed. the two nurses from earlier are around the foot of the bed. someone is leaving in the background, the door sliding shut.

“what’s going on?” he mumbles.

“the meta drug working proves our theory,” the physician says, and dragon nods. sabo moves his head to face the pair.

“theory?”

“we drew blood earlier,” they remind him. “had it sent to be analyzed. there’s a sequence in your dna that’s been altered. don’t ask me how, that’s not my field. all i can tell you is you seem to be able to cancel out sound. call it a -what do they call it? meta power?”

“that’s correct, sir.”

“wait,” sabo interrupts. “you’re telling me they altered my dna? what else did they change? can’t you reverse it?”

“that’s not our specialty,” the assistant speaks up. “we don’t know what else was altered. we don’t have the original sequence to base it on. at first glance everything appeared to be normal. the only thing we were looking out for was the meta-gene.”

“so i’m stuck like this,” sabo huffs, a little more energy to his words. the pair share a glance. 

“i wouldn’t recommend reverse-engineering your dna any further,” the physician says. “in any case, we can’t do anything about it here. if you want to go try your hand with a meta specialist, that’s your call.”

“the drug will wear off in a matter of hours,” one of the nurses speaks up. “we’d like to keep you here for observation, but you’re technically free to go. when your dad signs you can be discharged.”

sabo frowns. “he’s not my-”

“that’s fine, thank you,” dragon interrupts. 

once everyone has filed out of the room, sabo snatches the medical chart from dragon’s hands, flipping through it. “all foreign substances flushed-” he stops, shudders. his hand moves to his chest, feeling the bandages. he looks over and sees his helplessness reflected in dragon’s eyes. “what did they do to me?” he whispers.

dragon sighs and calmly takes the chart from his hand, flipping it shut. “ignoring the bad, because that’s over with now-” sabo winces anyway. dragon shrugs. “they made you superhuman.”

that was definitely not the answer he wanted to hear.

-

as nice as it is being in a clean and sterile medical environment instead of what he’d been subjected to more recently, being there at all still had sabo on edge more than he liked, so he convinces dragon to go check him out before the anti-meta drug has worn off. dragon must take pity on him, because it doesn’t take much convincing for him to go, leaving sabo to sort himself out with the bag someone -he hadn’t asked; dragon hadn’t offered- had dropped off for him while he went to sort out discharge papers.

he doesn’t wait for a nurse to come back and unhook his iv, sliding the needle from his skin as smoothly as he can manage. the self-adhesive comes apart from his arm easily enough, and he presses the cotton to the open wound created by the iv’s absence, twisting the wrap until it’s bound to his wrist.

there’s a change of clothes in the bag that he wastes no time in pulling on, discarding the hospital gown on the sheets. he frowns as he pulls out a pair of sliders to slip on, remembering he was wearing his kicks when he was taken. damn, he really liked those shoes, too. 

there was also a light jacket thrown in, meaning it had gotten colder since he was gone. something about that really irks him, but he tries to let it go. like dragon had said, it was over now. he was okay.

well, mostly okay.

he throws the jacket on because he truly doesn’t know what to expect from going outside, and by that time dragon appears again, waving him up from the door. sabo throws the near-empty bag over his shoulder and shuffles to his feet, and then across the room, frowning as he tries to work his feet up only to barely succeed. his legs feel heavy.

he looks up at the door to find dragon watching him, brow raised. sabo frowns.

“how long was i out?”

“you weren’t in bed long enough to be doing that,” dragon confesses. “it’s probably from -uh . .”

sabo closes his eyes, breathes out a sigh. “right. okay.” his legs were wrapped, and he hadn’t read off his chart fully, so it probably had to do with that. he just had to be positive. things would get better.

he shuffles past dragon, letting his mentor swing the door shut. at least he didn’t need crutches. someone tries to get him in a wheelchair along the way, but he does his best to ignore them, and dragon sends them away, assuring them they were fine. fuck protocol, basically, because sabo needed this, needed to be up and walking and in control.

it is a bit chilly outside, which only dampens his mood further. he doesn’t give dragon a chance to offer to drive the car closer, picking a random direction to march down and letting dragon unlock the car behind him so the noise could point him the right way. he didn’t want to think about anything, and dragon must read this off his face, because he doesn’t say anything as they both climb into the vehicle. 

sabo just wanted to go home and sleep in his own bed and wake up in a familiar place. he could worry about the rest after that.

-

his annoyance shows through about an hour into the drive, when they’re still on the road. whatever hospital he’d been in -he hadn’t really bothered to check- had been clear on the other side of the city. at least it had been in the city, he realizes faintly. maybe he was transferred from somewhere else. or maybe wherever he was being held was close enough to relocate him here, where there was better medical care than some of the smaller towns spread out in the area. 

he starts drumming his fingers against his thigh, the noise constant and comforting. it’s less of a thing to do and more of a check, making sure his hearing was still normal. the only other sound was the general being-on-the-road one that had long since faded to white noise, easily something he could convince himself he was imagining. at least he could control this, start and stop whenever he wanted to make sure it was real.

dragon doesn’t seem to agree. it only takes a handful of minutes before he clears his throat, and sabo glances up to see himself on the other end of dragon’s glare through the mirror. he turns away to look out the window, drumming his fingers louder, if possible.

“just let me have this,” he mutters, barely audible over the hum of the road.

“if you need sound then turn on the radio,” dragon counters, lifting one hand from the steering wheel to gesture to said device. 

“that’s not the same-” sabo stresses, then stops, face going from frustrated to concerned, eyes narrowed to blown, as he realizes he can’t hear himself talk again. maybe he hadn’t been taking earlier, either, actually-

dragon’s brow is furrowed, and his lips are pursed. he’d glanced over at sabo temporarily, but now his eyes are back on the road, unable to indulge sabo like he needs. “that wore off sooner than i thought it would,” he mutters.

sabo grits his teeth, and he slams both hands down on the center console. to dragon’s credit, he doesn’t jump. but sabo does, startled, but at least that’s good, right, that he can still hear?

“don’t-” he starts, and then he remembers, and he throws his arms in the air, huffing, though that act is inaudible. 

“at least your hearing is still intact,” dragon supplies. this time it’s sabo’s turn to glare, though dragon doesn’t spare him more than a glance, rolling his eyes afterwards. “i mean, it could be worse. look on the bright side, okay? we’ll-”

he hesitates, and sabo’s eyes widen as he catches the implication.

dragon didn’t mince his words, and he’s never told sabo anything but the truth, as tough as it’s been to hear sometimes. we’ll figure this out, he’d been trying to say. but he hadn’t. 

he didn’t want to, sabo realizes. dragon had never wanted anything to do with meta powers. why would that start now? had sabo really thought he was that special, that dragon would change his mind because the closest thing he’d had to a son suddenly developed-

sabo bites down on his lip, hard, and turns to the window. he flips his hood over his head before dragon  can turn to look at him, prove his point correct. he hadn’t asked for this. none of this was his fault.

but, whether he liked it or not, regardless of if he wanted it or not, it was all happening, outside of his control.

#one piece #sabo #monkey d dragon #party's not over (but please go home) #ignore the abrupt ending this went 2 scenes longer than planned #the au now has a (temporary?) tag so everything is grouped together #if you missed smth jus check the tag!! #my wrist is a-okay rn so ill have the hi/lo/san thing up soon #writing

[justjessame]

Sins of the Father: Chapter 12

Breakfast was quieter than dinner had been and for that I had more gratitude in my heart than I could articulate.  Even Danny was less rambunctious - his nose buried in a book that I reached across to tilt up so I could read the cover of - earning me a look of extreme patience.  

“Sorry,” I offered, releasing my hold and holding up my hands in a mockery of surrender.  “I only wanted to see what was so engrossing.” 

He rolled his eyes at me, but a small grin peaked out as well, so I knew I was mostly forgiven my tresspasses.  “You’re not the only one who likes to read, Esme.”  He murmured, gaze returning to the page.  

“Point made, Master Roper.”  I agreed, picking up my own book and fighting a grin.  

“Esme,” Dad walked in as I was finishing up and I felt a sigh building.  “Once the doctor comes to check on our Mr. Quince, I think you should be there to let him know how you’ve helped with his recovery.”  Screaming would be more satisfying than sighing, I knew, but I did neither.  

“Of course,” I smiled and asked Danny if he’d like to try to teach me how to play the video game he’d shown me before - “Just have someone come let me know when I’m needed,” was my parting shot as I followed my little brother’s enthusiastic progress from the room.  

I was no better at the videogame the second round than I was at the first, but Danny liked having me try.  He was laughingly trying to explain what I was doing wrong while trouncing me soundly when Sandy came in and took a few beats to watch the spectacle.  His deep chuckle alerted me to the new witness to my shame, and I asked the victor to press pause.  

“Doc is here, Esme,” nodding my assent to what I understood was my father’s insistence that I come along, I promised Danny that I’d come find him once I was finished.  

“Do you think he’ll be able to come out of his room now?”  Staring down at eyes that were so alike my own while being so very different as well, I sighed.  “He must be tired of being cooped up, Esme.”  

“I’ve no doubt you’re right,” kissing his forehead, I made no promises one way or the other.  “The sooner I go -”

“I know,” he muttered, flopping back onto the sofa and picking up the controller again.  

Sandy had gone ahead, or perhaps he’d gone off to tell Dad I was on my way to fulfill my duties - it was hard to say since he hadn’t felt the need to tell me.  I took my time walking to Tom’s room, getting my mask in place after our last meeting - still uncertain about what I’d said or done that had caused the curtain to fall between us.  Either way, I had to be in the room again, at least to act as a buffer between the doctor and Dad, since I had a feeling that was my role today.  

“Ah, Esmeralda.”  The smile that curled on my lips was genuine as the doctor greeted me.  He was a familiar face among this lot and I felt comfortable as his warm, dry hands enveloped my own far clammier one.  “Are you not well?”  His eyes were searching my face, and I felt the urge to confess all my ills, one by one.  

“I’m fine,” assuring him came as easily as giving my name at the host stand at any restaurant in the world.  Simple as breathing.  “Playing videogames with a younger brother can be a touch -” He chuckled and nodded his head in understanding.  “You haven’t gone in?” I gestured toward the still closed door, guarded by both Frisky AND Corky, looking a mixture of bored and somehow alert - nosy, more like it.  

“I was waiting for you,” he held out his arm and I slipped my hand through it.  “After all, I’m told you acted as a nurse in my stead.”  I snorted and he patted my hand.  “You give yourself so little credit, Esmeralda.”  No, but you give me far too much.  “Tell me what you’ve done for him -”

I explained changing the bandage when it needed it, only three or four days worth of care, honestly.  And I also told him about the salve I’d found, and how I used it along with an elastic bandage to give him some comfort for his battered chest and ribs.  

“I wouldn’t have bothered, but he seemed to be in more pain when I would help him sit up -” I felt uncomfortable pointing out the physician’s shortcomings, not that he really had done anything horribly wrong.  The IV drip had done what it was meant to do, after all.  

“I’d considered the ribs,” he sighed, “but the patient wasn’t very forthcoming with telling me what precisely ailed him during the examination.”  I would have snorted again, but we were closing in on going inside.  “Let us go see how well he’s looking, shall we?”  I wanted to beg off, but with Corky standing just there, looking for all the world like he could care less - I knew he’d rush right for Dad and spill the news that I’d made excuses to NOT enter the room.  

“Let’s.”  The door was opened for us, the doctor released me so we could enter comfortably, but he stood back to allow me to go first - a gentleman.  Tom was sitting up and I knew that he could see me just as clearly as I could him - I saw the twitch of his fist on the top of the blanket.  “Mr. Quince, I’ve come with the doctor -”  Stepping to the side, the doctor came in and approached the bed while I stood back slightly.  

I listened as the doctor asked all the regular questions.  As Tom and he discussed the hows and whys, the what would come next and where it would happen.  I stayed out of the way, a witness, but not a participant.  

“Well, I think that you owe Miss Roper a bit of gratitude,” the doctor was saying and it drew me away from my daydreaming out of the window.  “If she hadn’t forced that salve and bandage upon you -” Turning around, I realized he’d been examining Tom’s upper body.  “You were worse off than you let on.”  He shook his head and stepped back.  The bridge holding Tom’s face together was gone and while there was still redness and bruising, I could see him - all of him.  

My God.  I wasn’t quite expecting him to look like this.  His gaze found me, and then my own eyes and - 

“Yes, well, I’ve found that I’m thankful to Miss Roper for a great deal.”  I wanted so badly to leave or look away, but I couldn’t.  “I think I’ve been a terrible patient.  She deserves better.”  

The doctor was still fussing with Tom’s injuries, making sure that the IV was removed, that any and all parts were functionable, so he wasn’t picking up on any strangeness in his tone.  No undercurrent could be heard by the good man as he did his rounds.  

“I’m not sure any patient is ever all that gracious,” the doctor soothed, he was still checking over Tom’s injuries.  “And Esmeralda is more than used to them.”  He smiled at me over his shoulder and I must have managed to keep my mask up enough to appease him.  He stood up and gave Tom the good news.  “You’ve healed up quite a bit more than I expected,” he patted him on his shoulder and told him that while he was looking better and probably feeling the same, he didn’t want him rushing out and getting back in the saddle.  “Take it easy, while you may want to go full force back into your old patterns and routines, you are still dealing with the battering you took.”  Sighing he shook his head.  “You did a heroic thing, Mr. Quince, but your body is paying a high toll for it.  

“I’m no longer bedridden?”  The doctor chuckled and shook his head.  “At least I have that.”  

“Oh, I think you have more than that,” he winked at me and I bit my lip. Damn it, did everyone see everything in this house?  “Now, I’m sure that Esmeralda might be talked into giving you a tour of your lodgings if you ask her very politely, Mr. Quince.”  And with a few more reminders to take things slowly and waving off my offer to take him to Dad, I was left alone with Tom.  

“I should -” he stopped me by standing up, and I was struck by how tall he was, as tall as Dad.  

“Please, Esme?” He didn’t rush forward, giving me the option to leave if I truly wanted to, but I felt rooted to the spot.  “I know I haven’t the right to ask, but -”

The door opened and Corky came in. “Ah, so the invalid isn’t as broken and battered.”  Glancing between us, his grin grew.  “Not interrupting anything am I?”  

“Of course not,” my answer came easily.  “Mr. Quince was just showing me how well he’s improved.”  I smiled at Tom and took a deep breath.  “I should be off, Danny is no doubt ready to beat me in whatever that horrible game is he insists on my playing with him.”  A small nod of goodbye to the two of them and I was out the door, cowardly though it might be.  

I did go find Danny and he did beat me a few more rounds of the terrible video game.  Then we went to the pool where I knew even playing in the water with his rambunctious little body would be more relaxing than the start of my day.  I was lying by the water, Danny had gone in to fetch us something to snack on, when a dark shadow fell over the bright sun that was warming me.  

“You make a better door than you do a window,” I muttered, opening my eyes with the expectation of seeing Danny or even Dad - but certainly not HIM.  “Oh.”  

He was wearing a blue t-shirt and a pair of shorts and he was alone.  “You left before I could ask politely for the tour,” his face was still discolored, but that did nothing to disarm his smile.  “Doctor’s orders, Miss Roper.”  

Another deep breath for me and I gestured to the lounge beside mine.  “Perhaps after Danny brings out something to eat,” I saw him in the distance with someone trailing behind carrying a tray.  “He must have known we’d have company.”  

A sheepish look crossed his face, as my companion lowered his eyes to his lap.  “I might have come across your brother when I left my room.”  Biting my lip, I had to fight the laughter at the two of them conspiring.  “He told me where to find you.”  

“He did, did he?”  Danny’s grin was wide and I shook my head as he helped the housekeeper set up our lunch. 

#jonathan pine x oc #jonathan pine #Richard Roper #the night manager #alternate universe #slow burn #eventual smut

[thatwhumplife]

It’s All Coming Back

Whumptober 2020 Prompt 26: If you thought the head trauma was bad...

Fandom: Chicago PD/Med

Summary: After-effects of Jay’s military service come back to haunt him. Will gets his eyes opened to some of what Jay has been dealing with.

Words: 2441

Will approached the apartment and knocked enthusiastically. He had been pulling a lot of extra shifts at Med recently and hadn’t had much time to spend with Jay. But finally – finally he had a night off and they had plans for a Hawks game and a couple of beers.

Several seconds passed with no answer.

Will knocked again. “Jay, buddy! Quit puttin’ that makeup on; it’s just a night with your brother!”

Again, he was met with silence. Will hesitated but the worry took over. He grabbed the doorknob and turned it slightly. It was unlocked and gave way immediately. The door swung open revealing a dark apartment.

“Jay?” Will called.

A soft voice cried out in response. “Agh!”

Will rushed forward and flipped the entry light on, flooding the living room with bright light.

“AH! Turn it off!” Jay moaned from the couch.

Startled, Will flipped the light back off and stumbled forward as his eyes readjusted to the darkness. He found his way to the couch and put a hand on Jay’s shoulder.

“Jay? What’s going on?”

“Hurts,” he whispered. “Too loud.”

Will brought his voice down to a whisper. “What hurts? What happened?”

“Head,” he breathed out, heaving as he pushed the palms of his hands against his temples.

“Did you get hurt? Did something happen at work?” Will was growing more concerned by the second. He didn’t see any blood though that was hard to know for sure with the two of them shrouded in darkness.

“Migraine…bad one…” Jay finally said.

Will took a calming breath. A migraine was something he could deal with. “Did you take anything?”

“Imitrex. A while ago. Hasn’t touched it.”

Jay suddenly pitched forward and reached for a bowl on the floor that Will had just barely missed with his foot. He leaned halfway off the couch and began dry heaving.

“How long since the pain started?”

“I don’t know,” he gasped once the gagging subsided. “What time is it?”

“Almost 7:30.”

“Oh god. Right. The game. Aw man, I’m sorry, I should have called you.” Jay rolled back onto the couch and covered his eyes with his arm.

“No, no, no, don’t worry about that. When did the pain start?” he asked again.

“Around 3?”

“Is that when you took the Imitrex?”

Jay nodded silently.

“God, Jay, you should have called me. When did you start throwing up?”

“I don’t know. A while ago.”

Will put his hand under Jay’s shoulder blade and started to help him up. “C’mon. You’re going into Med.”

Jay moaned and tried to push him off. “No, no, just let me try and sleep it off. I can try another Imitrex.”

“Nope. Not negotiable. You’re dehydrated from throwing up and the pain is way out of hand. You need to get it under control.”

Will made another move to pull Jay into a sitting position. He obeyed this time but kept his hands over his eyes and laid his head back as soon as he stopped moving.

“Are you dizzy?”

Jay shook his head. Will didn’t believe him but figured it wasn’t worth arguing about.

“Wallet in your pocket?”

Jay nodded, trying to conserve his energy for what he knew would be a very uncomfortable walk to the car.

“Okay, let’s go.”

Will pulled Jay to a standing position and took his right arm to guide him. He opened the door to the hallway and the hall light hit Jay like a Mack truck.

“Agh,” he moaned, trying to cover his eyes more thoroughly with his left arm.

Will slipped his sweatshirt off and pushed it against Jay’s hand. “Use that instead.”

Jay balled up the sweatshirt and pushed it against his eyes as they made the slow trek to Will’s car. Once inside, Will buckled him in and shut the door as softly as he could.

Jay used both hands to hold the sweatshirt over his eyes and curled up, leaning against the window.

The ride was uneventful and quiet. Will left the radio off and tried to avoid any sudden jolts.

Pulling up to the entrance, Will whispered to Jay to stay in the car, that he would be right back.

Will arrived back a few minutes later pushing a wheelchair with Natalie in tow. He tapped on the window, which alerted Jay to his presence, before carefully opening the door.

“Jay, I’m here with Natalie. We have a wheelchair here to make it easier.”

“No, no I’m good.”

Will suppressed the urge to chuckle. “Just ride in the wheelchair. It will be easier to keep your eyes covered. The lights are going to be bright.”

Jay took a deep breath and stepped out of the car, allowing Will and Natalie to guide him into the seat. Will placed his feet on each of the footrests before nodding to Natalie.

“I’m gonna go park the car, I’ll be back in a minute.”

Jay grunted a noncommittal reply and Will took that to mean he’d better hurry.

Natalie guided Jay into the ER and into a waiting treatment room. She immediately turned down the lights as low as they could go and helped him up onto the bed.

“Halstead?” he heard a voice ask.

Natalie turned and saw Maggie standing in the doorway.

Natalie nodded. “Migraine. Can you send a nurse in?”

Maggie nodded and turned around to flag someone down. “April, need you here in treatment two.”

April walked over and nearly ran into Will who was rushing to get back to Jay’s side.

“Jay, I’m back, I’m right here.” Will put a hand on Jay’s thigh and squeezed gently. Jay continued to keep the sweatshirt over his eyes but visibly relaxed at Will’s touch.

“Jay,” Natalie said cautiously, trying not to speak too loudly, “Will filled me in on most of it. Sounds like your migraine med isn’t working. You have a history of migraines?”

Jay nodded and Will felt a stab of guilt in his stomach. He had no idea.

“Since my TBI,” he said, painfully, “Overseas. But I haven’t had one for a long time.”

Will realized again how absent he was when Jay needed him most. Jay didn’t tell him much of anything about what happened in Afghanistan or what happened when he got back stateside.

“Let’s see if we can get that pain under control. How would you rate it right now?”

Jay was quiet for a few moments. “Six,” he said simply, then after another second, “seven.”

Will shook his head and mouthed to Natalie, ‘no way’. Natalie smiled and shook her head back at him.

“Jay, I’m going to have you get in a gown and then we’ll get you some medicine to help with that pain and nausea. April? Start a line and give 30mg of Ketorolac and 8mg of Zofran. And run a bag of saline.”

“You got it,” she replied with a smile. “I’ll be right back, Jay.”

They left the room leaving Jay and Will together. Will tapped Jay’s leg. “Let’s get you into this gown.”

“Don’ wanna,” he complained without missing a beat.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. But do it anyway. For me.”

Will helped Jay out of his clothes and into the very unflattering hospital gown. Getting him back into bed, he grabbed a thin blanket out of the cabinet and covered him up before trying (and failing) to snap the bed rails up as quietly as possible.

“Will-“ Jay said suddenly, “sick.”

Will grabbed a small basin out of a cabinet and rushed it under Jay’s chin as he started dry heaving again, spitting a mixture of saliva and bile into the bowl.

“I gotcha Jay. Take some deep breaths,” Will whispered, rubbing his back. Jay finally stopped gagging and laid back against the bed, holding the sweatshirt back to his eyes tightly.

“You okay now?”

Jay nodded wordlessly.

Will took a seat next to the bed. As much as he wished he were treating his brother, he was secretly relieved that he could just be here for him. Especially since he wasn’t there for him before.

April returned with the medication and an IV kit.

“Jay, I need to turn the lights up a bit so I can see to get this IV in you, okay? You can keep that over your eyes, I just need to borrow your arm.”

Jay took a deep breath and offered his left arm to her while trying to keep the sweatshirt over his eyes with the right one.

Will watched carefully and noticed his breathing becoming slightly more rapid.

“Jay, I’m going to put the bed back just a little further so we can wrap this around your head and you won’t have to try and hold onto it.”

Will did his best not to jostle Jay’s head too much. Once the sweatshirt was firmly in place, Will grasped Jay’s right hand and squeezed. He leaned forward and whispered in Jay’s ear. “I’ll tell you everything before she does it, I swear.”

April looked on and waited for Will to signal to her that she could start. He looked back at her and nodded.

“She’s going to put that elastic band around your arm and feel around a bit, okay?”

With no response from Jay, she continued.

“Now she’s going to wipe your arm down with an alcohol pad.”

April continued working quietly and readied the needle.

“Okay, Jay, you’re going to feel a big stick here in just a second but it will be over so fast.”

Will squeezed Jay’s hand in his and placed his other hand on his shoulder. “Ready?”

Jay gave a slight but hesitated nod.

April slid the needle in and Jay’s body tensed for a moment before relaxing. She pulled the needle back out, leaving the cannula in place, and taped it down securely.

“That’s it, it’s in,” Will said, rubbing Jay’s shoulder. “You’re gonna start feeling better soon.”

April pushed the medication and then hooked the line up to a fresh back of saline before turning the lights back down and leaving.

Silence stretched out between them. Will knew Jay was still in immense pain and didn’t want to make it worse by talking. So he opted for holding his hand and occasionally running his fingers gently through his hair.

A half hour or so passed before Natalie reappeared.

“Jay,” she whispered, “how are you feeling?”

Jay took a deep breath before cautiously pulling the rolled up sweatshirt off of his eyes. He cleared his throat before mumbling, “Better.”

“How would you rate your pain?”

Jay pondered the question for a moment. “Like a two?”

Natalie smiled. “Good, good, I’m glad to hear that. Keep relaxing for a bit longer so we can make sure that pain stays under control. Do you need anything?”

“Water? Can I get some ice water, please?”

Will immediately jumped up. “I got it. No problem, Jay.”

Will followed Natalie outside as his anxiety for his brother’s well-being finally calmed.

“I had no idea he had lasting migraines from a TBI,” Will admitted.

“He didn’t tell you?”

“No. He hasn’t told me much of anything from his time overseas or his time after he came back home. And I wasn’t exactly around when he got back. God, I feel awful. I haven’t really ever been there for him. Not since we were kids.”

“I’m sure he understands. You’re here now and that’s what matters.”

Will shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Just go get that water and be with him.”

Will hurried back to Jay’s room with the Styrofoam cup and straw. “Here Jay, I got you that ice water,” he said, pulling the bedside tray closer and setting the cup down. “Do you want me to raise the bed back up?”

Jay nodded and wiped a hand down his face, trying to get rid of the sudden grogginess that had appeared once the pain subsided.

Jay sat up a little straighter and gripped the cup tightly before taking a long sip. “Thanks, man.”

“Of course.”

An awkward silence fell over them. Jay took a couple of more sips before putting the cup back and laying his head back against the pillow.

Natalie appeared again at just the right time. “Still doing alright there, Jay?”

Jay cleared his throat and sat up a little straighter. “Yeah, yeah I am. Thanks.”

“Do you still have a neurologist that you see regularly?”

“Uh, no, not really. I haven’t had a migraine this bad for a long time. I didn’t really feel like I needed to keep going. I had the Imitrex which was working.”

Natalie nodded. “Maybe it’s time to consider going back, just for a cursory check in and to maybe see if your Migraine treatment plan needs to be modified.”

Jay didn’t really respond other than a slight nod.

“Before we kick you out of here, I’m going to give you a dose of Decadron – it’s a steroid that will help make sure your migraine doesn’t come back in the next day or so. Sound okay?”

“Yeah, absolutely. That would be great.”

“Just so we’re clear, this will not exempt you from seeing your neurologist. This should cover you for tomorrow, but that doesn’t mean you can’t have another one next week,” she warned, hoping that Will would at least be able to get him to follow through.

“Neurologist. Got it,” Jay said reluctantly.

“Good. I’ll send April back with the Decadron and then we can get you out of here.”

“Sounds great. Thanks, Natalie.”

The room was silent again for several seconds before Will finally spoke up.

“Look Jay, uh, I know I wasn’t a great brother to you back then. Back when you came home, I mean. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. I should have been here –“

“Nope, don’t even go there,” Jay cut him off. “Water under the bridge, man.”

“But it’s not. I didn’t even know you still had symptoms from your TBI. And I was just off in New York doing my own thing while you were back here alone.”

“I wasn’t alone; I had dad.”

Will scoffed. “Yeah, I’m sure that was a grade A support system.”

“It is what it is. And honestly, I don’t get the migraines very often. I can’t even remember when my last one was. It’s just a fluke that I had one today and that it was really bad. I’m managing just fine otherwise.”

“Which I’m thankful for. But please, Jay, please, for me. Take care of yourself. Call your neurologist and make an appointment.”

Jay smiled and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I will.”

#whumptober2020 #no.26 #if you thought the head trauma was bad #fandom #fic #chicago pd #jay halstead #will halstead

[jacklyn-flynn]

For all of you who are eagerly awaiting this update…I am in awe. Your patience is incredible and I very much love you for it! I continually hope to deliver content that is worthy of your loyalty.

For all of you who have been asking “what even is Jasoom?!”….here you go. Be careful what you wish for. I cried writing it so consider yourself warned. Buckle the fuck up for this roller coaster.

Link to Chapter 8. 

Link to the beginning of the Space Trash story. 

Teaser below the cut. Comments, thoughts and GIFs of your reaction to Jasoom’s story are much appreciated. 

Oh, just as a note: I know this seems a little out of character for Cass and it is. On purpose.

He knew that he was dying. Yet, all of the fear he felt wasn’t for himself. He didn’t know what sort of creature he heard from the vent by his cage. It sounded young to him somehow. When it spoke to itself in the long hours, the voice was high and bright. He could hear the loneliness in its sobs and feel the despair when it cried out in its sleep. His life in that small metal box had been a horrific trial of both pain and utter boredom. He hated to think of another suffering the same fate.

He now lay on his side, struggling past the pain in his ribs to draw in air. His matted black fur was thin and brittle. Patches were missing where he had been shaved for an IV or procedure or where it had simply fallen out. He couldn’t feel his feet or the end of his tail.

Yet, as much as he wished for death, he wished to stay. Though he didn’t know what the creature looked like, it didn’t matter. He could feel it. Feel for it. They had that connection. He, too, had lain awake at night, yowling in pain and fear. He’d gotten used to the loneliness years ago, but he remembered what it felt like. 

There were times since it had arrived that he’d had enough strength to make noises to it. He knew it could hear him because it would stop talking or crying to listen. It had even started making noises back at him. Mimicking his meow or starting to chatter to him softly. Those nights grew rarer for him as he grew weaker. Enough so that he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had the strength to make any noise. 

Just then, he heard it. Chattering to him in nonsense noises that meant nothing to him. Despite that, he knew well enough what it was doing. It was simply filling the time. It spoke lovingly and he was even gifted with a rare giggle. 

It was unfair. The people in pristine white coats, stealing their lives from them. Their laughter. Replacing it instead with despair and pain. But that wasn’t something to fill one’s last thoughts with. Instead, he listened to it meow, sing, and talk to him. 

There was a loud clatter and metal scraping against metal before it went silent. It started to cry, quietly. Resigned almost. Another clattering and everything was silent. It was gone. It was scared to go as it always was. He tried to lift his head but couldn’t. Couldn’t even open his eyes. If only he could wish for one freedom in his life, it would be to find that poor creature and comfort it. Let it comfort him. If only he had died sooner, he could have left listening to its sweet noises. Instead, he could only burn with anger. 

He suddenly felt an odd sensation. A feeling of warmth coming from seemingly nowhere. And it called to him. It didn’t speak, or even make noise, but he knew exactly what it was trying to communicate. 

-Do you want to help her?- Her? Yes. 

-You can’t save her.- I know. 

-You won’t be here. I will use your materials after you go.- But she won’t be alone? Ever again?

-No.-

He gave his assent with no hesitation. Finally, he could let go without regret. He would find peace knowing it-she would no longer be alone as he had been.

()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()

The body was old beyond its years and incredibly fragile.  The spirit was amazed that the cat had attracted his attention. The soul made up in strength what the body lacked. The spirit wasn’t very strong himself. A minor spirit that others, even demons, paid no mind to. Not strong enough to manipulate the fade around it as other spirits could. Yet this creature had called to the spirit. Not for itself, but for another.

Its need was so strong and spoke to him in such a way that he couldn’t resist its call. There were several creatures here who suffered. But none more so than the creature this cat had bonded with, unseen and untouched. The body would take time to heal, but it-he, now-was strong enough to move it. The memories he sifted through were largely unpleasant so he ignored them and focused on those of the girl in the cell. 

He slipped into the space between the Fade and the physical realm. For most, the Veil was a barrier between the two. For the lesser spirits, it could be traversed in small distances. They were the spiritual vermin in the walls. He found her quickly. Unconscious on a stark white bed. Odd machinery was connected to her, some appearing to assist and others seemingly to restrain her. 

Feeling the hints of her emotions, he sensed she would be waking soon. This had never happened before. Her body being opened. She would be in pain. Scared. 

But no longer alone. 

With a struggle, he hopped onto the bed. He stepped up onto her stomach and then over her chest, settling where he could feel her heart beating. She was warm and he hoped that his body, curled against hers, would provide her with the same feeling. 

When he finally felt her stir, he started purring. He didn’t even mean to. Didn’t know he could. He just did. A soft vibration deep in his chest. Her eyes opened, mossy green and glassy with drugs. When they focused on him, she gasped softly. For the immediate moment, the drugs that clouded her mind kept the pain at bay and let her focus on him. 

Her lopsided smile made him purr louder. He stretched out his neck to brush his cheek against her chin and was rewarded with a giggle. She couldn’t move to pet him, but he somehow knew that she wanted to. She started to talk but he didn’t understand her. He would, someday, so he listened to her happy noises and the memories of the feline came back. How much it had meant to him to connect with her through that long vent. 

He could feel it too. The peace of companionship. He was glad he had answered the call. In the Fade, he had no purpose and served no cause. 

Now, he belonged to this little girl. 

()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()

Jules woke with a headache so strong she could hear the rush of her pulse echoing in her ears. With a groan, she reached up to pet Jasoom, feeling the vibration of his purr against her breastbone. His silky fur against her palm and fingers was instantly calming. Though she didn’t want to, Jules opened her eyes. 

She was in some sort of cell. With a quick glance around, she noticed that the Tevinter mage, Dorian, was with them as well. Zevran had also been close to her when Alexius’s spell was interrupted, but she didn’t see him nearby. Jasoom hopped off of her chest to allow her to sit up. She shook Dorian’s shoulder and he woke with a shout. 

“Hey! Sorry!” She said quickly, holding up her hands to show she meant no harm. “It’s just us.” 

Dorian nodded before running his hands through his hair. Once he was satisfied with the result, he righted his curling mustache, pinching it between his fingers to ensure every hair was in the correct place. Jules, on the other hand, didn’t even notice that much of her hair had fallen out of the elastic band. 

“Jas, can you go see if anyone else is around here?” She asked, pushing herself to her feet. With one raised brow, Dorian watched the midnight black cat slip through the shimmering blue anti-magic barrier and between the metal bars. 

“That is not a cat,” he said with a definitive pointing of his finger. “A cat most certainly cannot do that. What is that?” 

Jules shrugged, checking her weapons which were oddly still at her side. “That’s Jasoom.” 

“That does not answer my question.” Dorian pointed out. 

She took out her hair, combing her fingers roughly through it before putting it back up. “I don’t know what he is. Solas thinks he’s a spirit, Varric thinks he’s some kind of mythical trickster god and Morgan thinks he’s the physical manifestation of the innocence I lost as a child trying to protect me as an adult.”

Dorian was at a loss for words. The last one, especially, would require a much longer conversation than they had time for. Instead, he just cleared his throat. “I see.”

#space trash #jasoom the cat #what even is jasoom #some of you have been asking #jules trevelyan #morgan trevelyan #cullen rutherford #commander cullen #FIRST commander cullen in this au #first in my heart too #rare pair smut up in here #bull x cassandra

[jane-and-julian-from-vesuvi-blog]

Bad dreams happen for a reason

Written by me Jane

Julian X fem character

18+

What starts out with a bad dream turns into something beautiful

You stir awake to Julian thrashing about

As you roll over he catches you with his arm, you screech out in pain, jolting Julian awake.

Instantly he goes into overprotective mode,

“Y/C are you okay what happened? Your nose is bleeding?!?!?” His getting more and more worried by the second.

“Yes I’m alright, get me some paper towel please Jules baby” pinching my nose to try to stop the blood.

He scampered off and was running back seconds later with an armful off loo paper.

“ im so so sorry” wimped Julian

You are still holding there nose so sounding very nasal when they say “ Ilia it’s honestly okay you were having a nightmare and I was trying to wake you, I know you thrash around like your fitting when you have one of your awful dreams” a smile creeps it’s was up your cheeks as you look at the very doe eyed Julian.

You place a hand on his icy cheek then moving it into his fire red bed hair, scrunching your your fingers into a ball as do give it a little playful tug, Julian let a small moan slip from his quivering lips, instantly his face flush’s making his face go a dark shade of red, his teeth graze his bottom lip, as he looks down to the bed everting eye contact with you.

You take the paper from you face and your nose is no longer seeping the dark red blood it had been; you slide your hand out of Julian’s bed hair, trying not to tangle yourself up in his thick, luscious, auburn, messy, bed hair.

You give him a wink as you slip from the bed and slip one of Julian’s hugely oversized shirt over your messy head full of hair, and drooping it over your body, giving your ass checks a little wiggle as you watch his facial expression, the teeth were on the lip of his again “if you bite your lip any harder you’ll cut yourself Jules” you let out a giggle and walk off to the bathroom.

You come out not even five minutes later having cleaned your face and disposed of the blood stained tissue.

As you walk out to the bedroom unbuttoning a button for ever step I take.

Julian propped up in bed with his shoulders perched against the head board of your bed, he raises his eyebrow at you- your still making your way to the bed but you had run out of buttons to undo as you walk.

The shirt flapping gently in the breeze of your steps, enough to tease Julian but not quite enough for him to see everything.

You crawls from the end of the bed up to Julian’s chest shirt flapping and trailing along the bed, covering most of your decency. Laying down on Julian’s chest, hands moving towards his hair, other hand twirling his chest hair in your fingers.

Your fingers intwined in his hair, giving it gentle tugs and gentle tweaks, each time his eyes roll back into his skull as he takes a deep breath, and whimpers slightly as he breaths out. His hands running over your body with only the very thin fabric of his shirt over you, you place your lips so close to his your both nearly touching, you breath out “your so beautiful when your like this” as he gazed so deeply into my eyes, you felt a hand sliding up the back of your thigh, gently teasing you, as he is just under your ass cheek he stops, leaving his hand cradling you upper thigh he moves his other hand to your cheek and leans in so his lips are now on yours, gently at first. As your kissing gets more rough, your both a panting mess, you pull away to take a breath, as he looks up at you, “c..ca..c..can I touch you, I mean your...” you cut him off by just wiggling down his body till his hand is on your ass. You’d never believe that you had both been in an intimate relationship for 6 months and had been in a relationship for 8 months, the way he still check you are comfortable with everything before he does it is the ultimate turn on, it’s everything you ever wanted in a partner. As he grabs your ass, kissing you hard and fast, the other arm round your waist tightly, you pulling his hair making him moan as your tongues intertwine.

He brakes the kids by rolling you onto your back, he leans over you - giving you the look that meant are you okay with this, you confirmed by leaning up and kissing his neck, marking him, claiming him as yours.

His moans getting louder the harder you suck. He pulls back slightly before burying his face into your neck, making a moan slip from your lips, blushing slightly, Julian peered up at me with that smirk I was more then used to, “am I aloud to go dow” You wimped at the thought, and nodded meekly blushing more then Julian “this is a first Y/C iv never seen you blush like that! Are you sure everything is alright, you want me to do this yes?” A almost worried tone in his voice

“Jules please I really want it... I wa..wa.. want YOU!” You squeaked out with a cheeky grin.

Julian kisses and marks his way down your chest, tweaking your sensitive erect nipples on the way past, kissing until you he gets to your bikini line, then back up again. Your nipples and breasts seem to fascinate Julian, you let out a gentle moan as he is nipping one of your nipples and tweaking the other with his hand. You slightly moan Julian’s name as his sliding his spare hand down towards your pussy, just tracing your bare lips to start with, causing you to whimper and squirm around, it tickles so gently it feels so good you can feel that sensation growing in your lower stomach.

One of Julians long nimble finger slips between your lips, causing you to breath in deeply and exhale a moan of delight. A smile grows on his face as he watches you thriving around in pleasure. He starts to rubs your juices into you clit, slowly up and down teasing it ever do gentle, still playing with your nipples. He knows your getting close to the edge so he stops playing with your clit and slides his fingers down from your clit to the opening of your pussy, teasing at first tracing round the opening, then up and down the edges, then super gently he slides in, not down the his knuckles but far enough that when he curls it up towards your stomach, your hit with instant pleasure, you arch your back and let slip a loud moan, making Julian tense up, smirking at you while staring right into your eyes, he slips in a second finger and does the same motion, like the come here motion, making you squirm around panting, he speeds up and doesn’t stop even as you get to the point of no return and you tighten up on his hand he still keep the same speed and pace. As you cum you scream his name in pleasure thriving around in pleasure.

Once your finished and you have calmed down you lean up and kiss Julian “I want to return the favour roll over Jules” you whisper with a wink. “Y/C are you sure? Like I’d love it so much but only if you want to” he asked as he was staring into your eyes with his hands cupping your face. You slide to a sitting position, Julian now kneeling you place kisses down his chest, down to his hip bone, Julian is a whimpering mess already, you reach your hand up to his boxers and start to pull them down, then you have a bright idea.

You bite the elastic of his boxer and start to pull them down, Julian is whimpering and moaning, “Ohhh Y/C ohh please your such a tease, mmhh Y/C” Julian whimpers your name a few more times rolling his eyes back. As you get his boxer off his hard cock slaps against his stomach he winces in pain “oh god I’m so sorry Ilya I” you were cut off by “it’s okay Y/C you didn’t mean to” as Julian finish talking he takes a deep breath and his breathing becomes a bit erratic, he looks down to see your tongue trailing along the back of his fully erect cock, making it twitch and him squirm. As you flick your tongue over the head of his cock he moans, you start to play with his balls gently as you do you take his cock in your mouth and bob your head up and down slowly at first as he whimpers and koans your name you start to take him deeper until he is touching the back of your throat, and that’s not all of it, his legs start to shake as his moans and whimpers get louder until there almost screams, still bobbing your head up and down, you feel his about to climax by how stiff he has gone and how he is moaning and juts before you think he is about to cum to twist your head to let you take his cock all the way down your throat till your all the way down to his groin, you bob up and down like this, struggling to breath for about a minute, when at the back of your mouth you feel a torrent of his cum hitting the back of your throat almost causing you to gag, you look up and him, his eyes are closed and he is panting from the strength of the orgasm he just had. You remember the cum in your mouth, and as your sitting up you swallow it all, you lean in and give Julian a tight hug, and you both lay down together you tickle his chest while Julian strokes your hair. You fall asleep in each other’s arms

#julian devorak #the arcana julian #julian x apprentice #julian smut #the arcana #the arcana smut #julian x fem apprentice #julian x FC #dr julian devorak #Dr Ilia #dr jules #dr devorak #dr jules decorak

[rookie-ramsey]

Never Say Never, chapter 2

Description: MC struggles to come to terms with her disability as she and Ethan navigate their relationship. Sequel to Worth Any Risk.

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey X Female MC

Rating: T (may vary by chapter)

Previous chapter

“I’m Dr. Ramsey, and this is Dr. House. You are?”

“Lauren Phillips.”

Olivia listened as Ethan introduced them to her clinic patient. She didn’t need eyesight to know that the patient was watching her scrutinizingly, probably questioning whether she could do her job.

“And what brings you in today?” she asked him.

“I’ve been having joint pain for months, and now this fever keeps coming and going. And when it happens, I feel tired all the time.”

Olivia thought for a moment. “Hmm. Those symptoms usually indicate an autoimmune disorder.”

Ethan nodded when the patient looked toward him. “And what would you suggest doing as the next step?”

“An ANA test. We should also do a urine test to check for high protein.”

“I agree.” Ethan prepared Lauren for the blood draw, securing an elastic around her bicep and instructing her to make a fist. “Alright, I’m going to let Dr. House draw the blood.”

“Are you sure about that?” Lauren looked hesitant. 

Olivia tensed at that, but a light touch on her arm gave her some reassurance. After washing her hands and putting on sterile rubber gloves, she took the needle and removed it from the packaging. 

“She’s ready.” Ethan guided Olivia’s free hand to Lauren’s arm. “Touch lightly with your fingertip until you feel a vein.”

Olivia did as he said until her finger traced a slight ridge. She would’ve found it immediately with her vision, but for now she took solace in having found it at all. “Got it.”

“Good. You know what to do.”

She nodded. “You’ll feel a pinch,” she warned the patient before she slid the needle into place. She focused on keep her hands steady as she waited several seconds for the vial to fill. 

“There we go.” Ethan watched in approval as she carefully removed the vial and the needle. 

The patient looked relieved. “Wow… that wasn’t bad at all.”

Olivia smiled in relief. “That’s good to hear. I thought my heart was gonna jump out of my chest.” She disposed of the syringe while Ethan sent their patient on her way. 

“Well?”

“Well what?”

“How did that feel?”

She shrugged. “Good, I guess. But it was just a blood draw. I didn’t need eight years of med school to poke someone with a needle.”

“No, but it's something. It may take time, but there will be many things you can still do.” Ethan walked alongside her as they left the exam room. “And I’m hoping you’ll find that those things outnumber what you can’t do.”

She reached her hand toward him and sighed when he squeezed it. “You have a lot of faith in me, Dr. Ramsey.”

Ethan stopped so they could talk. “I do, Rookie. You still have your potential.”

A grin finally broke through. “That’s high praise coming from you.”

“It is. And I mean it.” Ethan touched her arm. “I want to keep pushing you and challenging you. But I don’t want to overwhelm you.”

“I know. And thank you for giving me a chance to get my feet back in the water. I know I need to take baby steps, but letting you do everything for me won’t help me learn how to manage this.”

“You’re right,” Ethan agreed. “I want to be there to help you. I don’t want to underestimate your ability. Now let’s get back to work.”

“Yes, boss.” She walked alongside Ethan, grateful for his hand resting lightly on her arm to help her navigate the hallways. They found their next patient, a middle aged man complaining of severe headaches and nausea. She and Ethan took his history, then began identifying any other symptoms.

“Alright, Mr. Shaw. I’m going to get you started on an IV to keep you hydrated while we run some tests.” 

He scowled as he watched her take the IV supplies from Ethan. “The hell you are. I’m not letting a blind doctor stick a needle in me.”

“I assure you, sir, I can-”

“Absolutely not!” He shook his head. “Are they seriously letting just anyone off the streets become a doctor? I won’t allow you anywhere near me!”

Ethan gave him a sharp look. “Mr. Shaw, we can’t force you to let a particular doctor work with you. You do have the choice between her or me. But I will tell you that Dr. House will be patient and gentle with you. I, on the other hand, can do it faster, but I will not be nearly so gentle.”

“...fine. But if she pokes my damn eye out, I’m suing.”

“You do that. Are you ready, Dr. House?”

Nodding, she managed to recover from the patient’s words. It took her a little longer to do something that she could have done in seconds before, but she soon had the IV set up. 

Ethan couldn’t resist an amused smile when a defeated expression formed on Mr. Shaw’s face. “Now, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“I guess not…”

“Good.” Ethan nodded. “The IV will keep you hydrated while we assess your symptoms and wait on your test results. In the meantime, let this be a reminder to not make assumptions.”

With that, they left the room, leaving the patient scowling and bewildered.

“Are you alright?” Ethan asked once they were in the hallway. 

She nodded slightly. “Yeah… that was just a little hard to deal with after the first patient was so easy.” 

“I wish I could tell you it won’t happen again, but it probably will,” he admitted. “Hopefully I’ll be there some of those times.”

“I’ll be okay. If I can’t convince them to be comfortable with me, they’ll just have to see someone else.” She shrugged. “I’ll try not to let it discourage me.”

“Good.” To her surprise, Ethan gently tilted her face close to his and kissed her softly, his lips capturing hers.

“What was that for?”

“I felt like it.”

Olivia grinned., “Good reason.”

next chapter

Tags: @isabella-choices @peekaboochu @foulcroissantknightpalace @teamdrake27 @edgiestwinter @samara-rani @drakewalkerfantasy @perriewinklenerdie @drakesensworld @msjpuddleduck @akacalliope @lady-kato @jlynn12273 @timmagicktoad @lapisreviewsstuff @choicesobsessedd @choicesstanblog @nobounderiesplease @buzz-bee-buzz @paulfwesley

#open heart #open heart fanfiction #choices: open heart #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #dr. ethan ramsey

[binglesbanglesbabies]

Pcos, an ovarian mass and laparoscopic surgery Part 2, operation to 4 weeks after

Part 2

I wasn’t asked to do anything special pre-surgery to make the surgery any easier, except no eating/drinking after midnight.  I still went ahead and ate lightly the day before, tried to keep it to mostly liquids so that my bowels would be smaller and more out of the way, but again, it wasn’t necessary, just what I felt would be better.

The surgery: Jan 28th

I had read so many accounts I was horrified that the laparoscopic removal would fail and I would need to be cut open hip to hip. Of course they had to have someone there to drive you home, so I brought my mother and step-father.  The pre-surgery was the same for anything else, height and weight asked/checked.  They did an ekg to check my heart was ok for surgery, ran through the 100 odd questions of allergies, a urine test to make sure I wasn’t pregnant, pertinent medical info, yada, yada, placed an iv.  Asked me if I had stomach upset/acid reflux (I do/did) so they gave me some iv pepto (their words not mine lol). Surgeon came in to “pep talk” us through the procedure. Then the interminable wait to be wheeled in to surgery.  On the way, I was stopped at a nursing station for the anesthesiologist to give me a shot (he told me what it was for, I’m sorry, it’s a blur now). In the surgical suite they literally wrapped my upper torso up like a burrito.  They told me it was to keep me warm, but I can almost guarantee it was to keep me from twitching and messing with the machinery while they were messing around in my abdomen.  Anesthetic and a few deep breaths later I was being wheeled back into my room post-surgery.

Here things get SUPER foggy.  I don’t remember much but feeling rushed out of the hospital.  It probably took a LOT longer than I feel like it did, but I was literally falling asleep on myself the whole time, so big chunks of time are missing during this period.  I barely remember getting dressed, except I had to have my mother help me, because I couldn’t bend over to put my pants and shoes on. This is one of the first times I have EVER been super happy they had a wheelchair for me, because I never would have made it out otherwise.  They warned me I may bleed, because whenever you mess with the reproductive system, it tends to kick up a fuss.  There may also be pain in your upper arms and back if any gas is not removed.  I had none.  My obgyn said if this happens, try to lay on an incline with your feet elevated, head down, to move the gas away from the diaphragm, which causes the pain.  But again, I got lucky, I had none.  And yes, they did shave my abdomen, sorry guys whoever did it, blame the pcos for the hair!

What they do during this surgery is make a few small incisions in your abdomen (for me it was three), one in the upper end of my belly button, one on each side of my abdomen, several inches above the hip.  They blow air into your abdomen to expand it so they have room to move around and then use a machine with small arms and rods with cameras and surgical tools to operate inside of you so they don’t have to cut you open too far.  It’s much less invasive and patients heal faster.  In my case they also took samples of the fluid filling the mass before removal and tissue samples of the mass, ovary, etc to check for cancer (came back negative).  They also took a look at the left ovary, it’s pretty bad, I have the pics to prove it.

For the rest of the day after surgery I was in very little pain.  My stomach was extremely shrunken in from the compression caused by the air.  I’ve never been that skinny and probably won’t again lol.  The incisions were covered in surgical glue.  I slept off and on most of the day, trying to get over the anesthetic.  The next day is when the pain kicked in.  Woah buddy.  I was heavily bruising, the swelling began, I was incapable of bending, pulling/pushing, taking a deep breath, laughing, coughing, sneezing.  You’d be surprised how much you use your abdominal muscles, whew!  I did not have any bleeding until I was using the bathroom, twisted to get the toilet paper (bad mistake!) heard/felt a tiny pop internally and then woosh, it started.  It was scary/bad enough I almost called the obgyn, but the paperwork assured me bleeding was normal, and I wasn’t bleeding enough according to the paperwork to call, so I gave it a day, and it did get lighter and lighter over the next few days and stopped.

In addition to the pain from the actual surgery site(s) my uterus decided to go into panic mode and cramp like hell for about a week.  I have NEVER been more glad for narcotics.  I took those for about 2 weeks before going back to the motrin I had been on for kidney stone pain.

What I was NOT prepared for was the sudden smack-down by my emotions.  I swear my hormones were in crazy flux. By week 2 I was crying over stupid things, moody, angry, it took about a week for all of that to clear up, ugh.  Still don’t know if that was because of the ovary removal, or because of pcos. I went through everything from crying they wouldn’t take my left ovary, to crying that it was necessary to have the right removed (which logically I know is ridiculous, because I don’t want kids (re: hereditary fun stuff I’d rather not pass on, also being ace plays into that, but that’s another story for another time).  Also, having to sit and sleep in awkward positions was horrible.  Made my back ache.  Sitting up is murder after having an ovary removed because it causes groin pain.  Laying flat all the time causes your back to ache.  I found a semi-reclined position that I sat in for over two weeks that worked for me, but my best advice is: use pillows, get creative.

Also, constipation is a thing. Your bowels will need some time to decompress, laxatives help.

Expect weird random twinges of pain. It's caused supposedly by your nerves healing. It's a thing. It's ridiculous.

Here’s some SUPER IMPORTANT information.  GIVE YOURSELF TIME TO HEAL.

I was so expecting to jump up and get gong a few days after surgery.  The first week I mostly slept.  It took me at least 2 weeks to start feeling better.  3 weeks to feel almost normal.  Over 4 weeks now and I still have pain in my groin if I sit too long.  Turning/twisting still pulls in my right side and groin and surgery sites.  Bending is STILL hard, bending to pick something up: PLEASE be careful.  Still not attempting to pick up heavy stuff.  Squatting is a little easier, but not ideal.  I still find engaging my core (abdominal muscles) to push/pull/pick up heavy items is still a challenge, and will cause squeals of pain from my surgery sites.  My abdomen swelled quite large, especially around the incisions.  Conversely, where they removed the mass sunk in.  My stomach is only now starting to “deflate”, so slowly.  For a week after surgery, I didn’t eat much, then I was ravenously hungry for about 2 weeks.  Externally the glue started to fall off almost a week after surgery.  The incisions weren’t even healed yet, caused me to get quite worried, but at the post op visit with the obgyn, she assured me this was normal, and they’d close over time.  The did leak, and were filled with white granulomas (white blood cells) which looks like pus, but isn’t.  The middle one’s glue popped and bled, filling my belly button with blood, but the glue still hasn’t entirely broken loose on that one, though by week 2 the other surgical glue had fallen off.  Check with your surgeon if you’re worried, but again, this all seems normal at this point.   At 4 weeks , the incisions are still not entirely closed up.  I have been covering them with bandages to help keep out bacteria and minimize rubbing from clothing.

PAJAMA BOTTOMS ARE YOUR FRIEND.  Also elastic waistbands.  It took me over 3 weeks to even try on a pair of jeans, and they still have the tendency to rub right across those incisions and the button to poke the incision in my belly button: not fun.  Today was the first day I didn’t feel discomfort wearing jeans while standing, sitting on the other hand...

I was also not prepared for the general weakness.  Without engaging your core, your limb strength just does’t cut it, lol.

AGAIN GIVE YOURSELF TIME TO HEAL.

Walking helps.  Seriously.  Don’t do like I did and try the whole 30 mins thing 2 weeks out of surgery.  Try 10 mins at a stretch after a couple weeks.  Then, walk 2 10 minute stretches during the course of the day.  Then 3 10 minute stretches or increase the time in the other split portions. If you feel pain, stop, don’t push yourself because you want to get better all at once.  I’m still not 100% back to normal activity, and I read it can take up to 12 weeks to be to that stage.

Tips/tricks to prepare:

If you have pets/children: if you can afford it, make sure you have a supply on hand for at least 3-4 weeks of food, litter, whatever.  Anything heavy you may need to lift is going to be impossible, especially if you don’t have help.

Try to see if you can get someone to help you if possible.  Trying to walk your dog or clean litter boxes, or care for small children is going to be very difficult for a while.

Be prepared to not be able to lift very heavy things, push/pull open heavy doors.  My discharge paperwork said not to even lift a full gallon of milk/water, and trust me, for the first week or two, it just ain’t happenin’

Listen to your body.  It will tell you when to stop.

Buy some laxatives for post-surgery constipation.

Buy some pads/panty liners for post-surgery bleeding.

Get your laundry done before surgery, you’re not going to want to do it for a while.  Wash small loads after surgery, laundry is heavy, don’t strain yourself.

Rest.

Buy some meals you don’t have to cook (think something you can slap in the microwave or oven for a few minutes and be done, or sandwich material, cereals, etc.) Standing up and cooking is going to be difficult for a while.

Be prepared to have family members (especially the males), act like you should be over it in no time. Especially with “3 tiny cuts”.  They don’t understand that there’s a lot of complicated healing going on below the surface that can’t be seen, not that that’s any excuse for being an unsupportive douche.

Just don’t push yourself to be better all at once, even if family/friends insist you should be “over it by now”.  There’s a mini tornado of healing happening inside you, let it do what it needs to.

#laparascopic #laparoscopic surgery #laparoscopic #laparoscopic ovarian mass removal #ovarian mass #large ovarian mass #pcos #pcos and ovarian mass #pcos and large ovarian mass #ovarian mass removal #laparoscopic surgery ovarian mass

[artificialqueens]

gonna make em scream some day, gonna make it big 1/3 (shalaska) - rosetintedworld

AN: this was originally on ao3 (under the same name!) but ive decided to put it on here also because i love feedback and attention. some sugar mama sharon and sugar baby alaska tinder realness. 

It wasn’t something she ever saw herself doing. Or even thought about doing until Violet mentioned it as a joke while scrolling through her Tinder and Alaska got a text from her manager saying she was booked for significantly fewer hours than before. She’d used dating apps before, yes, she was a Pisces. Alaska was a gentle lover. She was passionate and caring because love was fulfilling and completing. The second half of the circle that was her life. She’d been on Tinder and Bumble and any other “lesbian” dating app that had caught her eye. She’d even been on some dates, some successful, some not. None of them led to the romantic fantasy she dreamed of though, given her settings were to girls her age who most of the times were experimenting in their college days and didn’t want anything more than to drink and fuck and not talk again. Alaska was 21. She was a junior in college, she could go to bars and order booze herself, she could pay her bills (barely) in her run down apartment, and if she wanted to change up her online dating profile a little to target a slightly different audience, she damn well could.

So, that’s how her Tinder was back up and running, bio set to Alaska, 21, my names yours, whats alaska? performance major at pittsburgh u, starbucks barista extraordinaire, pisces (but im more of a snake than a fish), and yes i am naturally a platinum blonde and preferences set to woman ages 30-50. Her manager was left on delivered but her landlord was texted and asked about rent being a few days late. She sent a silent prayer to anyone who was listening before settling into bed on her stomach and opening the aforementioned app.

The glow of her iPhone screen illuminated her face in the now dark room. Pittsburgh was busy outside, which was typical for a Thursday night when you lived in the middle of the city. Not what some would say was the good middle of the city, but middle of the city nonetheless. Middle of the city enough that Alaska was living paycheck to paycheck trying to make rent while her building simultaneously was falling apart. What was good though, was the handful of woman Alaska was willing to swipe right on. Katya, 35, former Russian gymnast and now a hot blonde yoga instructor.  Bianca, 43, a seamstress with dimples for days. Raja, 45, a makeup artist who happened to be drop dead gorgeous too, which wasn’t quite fair in Alaska’s books.

Sharon, 42, writer of indie horror films. Busty, blonde with hints of silver, permanent bedroom eyes and velvet lips. Her Tinder pictures were her with a raggedy looking cat, her with her head thrown back in laughter and a bottle Pabst, her in a silk robe with tortoiseshell glasses perched on her nose and a glass of champagne in her hand. Alaska hovered on the profile for a moment. She tried to take in the tattoos and the dimple in her chin. The high cheekbones and her sultry glare and the way her clothes hung to her curves. Her thumbs hovered and she sucked in a deep breath before super liking and clicking her phone shut. From under her pillow, her phone buzzed but she ignored it and pulled her blanket up to her chin.

—

The first thing Alaska does after she wakes up is check her phone and have a minor heart attack over the messages on her screen. Well, that’s a lie. The first thing she does is de-tangle her hair from the elastic it was in, push herself up from her mattress on the floor and stretch until she can hear her back crack, make herself a coffee, and then almost spill the scalding liquid on herself when she clicks her phone open.

Sharon: Well, aren’t you a sweet little thing?

Sharon: What are you up to doll?

The hot horror babe double her age had super-liked her back and messaged her first.

Alaska: oh shit sorry, i fell asleep last night !

Sharon responds in nearly a minute and they fall into easy conversation. Alaska mentions she’s up to nothing, really, as she’s not booked for work and there was still a good two weeks before she had to start classes again. The other woman mentions just writing and sketching, working on concepts but other than that doing “fuck all”. The conversation turns shallow, as online dating conversations usually do, and Sharon mentions how Alaska’s gorgeous, how her smile could kill and how her hips are mesmerizing. She asks for a picture and Alaska doesn’t know why she’s blushing all the way up her chest. Or why she spends 5 minutes trying to fix herself up to send a photo to impress a woman she doesn’t know.

—

It was only two nights later when Alaska had agreed to meet Sharon for dinner.

She had scoured her closet for something to wear on a date. Going to bars and clubs, sure. She had clothes for that. Clothes for a date with a woman 21 years her senior who showered her in compliments, was extremely blunt, and had a charmingly crude sense of humour? Yeah, can’t say she’s had to dress for that before. But there’s always a first time for everything. She settles eventually on a sparkly black bralette that dips in slightly to show her cleavage and a black pencil skirt. The length of the pencil skirt cancels out the sexuality of the bralette and the way the skirt hugs her hips, obviously. For good measure, she pairs it with a floral blue kimono and what she hopes are her best pair of black fuck me heels.

The restaurant Sharon had picked out was a couple of blocks away. It was some fancy vegetarian place that Alaska had never heard of, but from a quick Google search she concluded that it was definitely out of her price range and somewhere she could never imagine herself stepping into. It’d be like a bull in a china shop, out of the ordinary and a very bad idea. She wasn’tfancy. Sure, one day, when she was a performer making millions maybe she would’ve returned to the city and ate at some fancy vegetarian restaurant. But now, a simple Starbucks barista who had a mattress in the corner of her room and wallpaper made of sketches and drawings? Nope.

It’s only when she got to the restaurant that she realized she was shaking. Why was she so nervous? She had thanked her Uber driver with a nervous smile and rated five stars, watching as he drove away while wringing her hands together nervously.

The inside was beautiful. All velvet upholstery. There was soft music playing and the walls were lined with paintings. It was classy and chic. And it smelt expensive. There was even a maître d who eyed her as she stood, nearly trembling in her heels like a deer caught in the headlights. It was embarrassing and she thought for a moment of just leaving. She was here to have a good night and hopefully get laid by an extremely hot woman and she was in it to win it but right now she wasn’t feeling like a winner.

“Alaska!” A woman called from a booth in the right corner, almost completely out of view and Alaska dipped away from the maître d with a shy smile and scurried over.

She was more gorgeous in person, somehow. Her blonde hair was clipped back from her face and the dim lighting didn’t reveal much, but Alaska could see the glimpses of silver where stray locks of hair fell around her face. Her cheekbones were high and her face was contoured and hollowed out. Her lips were pouty and plush. They’d be nice to kiss. Probably. Hopefully. Her tortoiseshell glasses were perched on her nose and Alaska could see from behind them where Sharon’s eyeshadow was creasing slightly where it fell into her crows feet. She wanted to brush it away, feel Sharon’s soft looking skin under her fingers.

Strong arms were hugging Alaska before she was able to process what was happening. Sharon was warm around her, rubbing her back and squeezing her waist. Her short sleeved blazer and pencil skirt was clinging to her body, the burnt orange contrasting with the black of Sharon’s bra that was spilling from where the buttons didn’t go quite high enough. Alaska trailed her eyes up the long leather gloves she was wearing and over the tattoo of a phone number just where the gloves ended above her elbow.

“Sit, sit! Hi darling, how are you?” Sharon’s eyes twinkled as she sat back down, pouring out two glasses of wine from the bottle already sitting on the table.

“I’m, uh, really well! Thank you! How about yourself?” Alaska smiled, graciously taking the wine. Maybe the alcohol would soothe her nerves. “Also sorry for running a bit late. Traffic. You know.”

“Don’t even worry about it!” Sharon shrugs and smiles before reaching out and resting her hand over Alaska’s on the table.

Sharon is touchy. Her heel clad foot is hooked around Alaska’s ankle and trailing up and down her calf slowly. Goosebumps raise on Alaska’s skin and she wonders if Sharon can feel them, or if she can sense when her breath catches in her throat and her cheeks flush. She’s always reaching across the table and taking Alaska’s hand in her own, bumping hands when passing a menu over or leaning across to grasp at her arm when Alaska says something funny enough to make Sharon throw her head back in laughter.

They talk and eat and drink. Sharon leans forward to feed Alaska bites of her risotto, claiming that her soup simply can’t be enough and she doesn’t care about the price. The waitress comes and goes with another bottle of wine and Alaska pours herself another glass, stains it with her lipstick and Sharon makes her laugh so hard red wine comes out of her nose much to her embarrassment.

Her eyes are bright and intense. Sharon’s asking Alaska about where she works, what she does. Alaska’s cheeks are pink from the attention but she doesn’t mind, really. Sharon listens when she talks about being a performance major, how she loves plays (especially musicals) and how she writes songs (but they’re mostly parodies, because they’re more fun) and how she really wants to make it big some day. She listens as Alaska talks about her brothers, who are either doctors or in the military and the wine talks about how sometimes she feels a little bit ashamed of herself for not being as successful as them. Sharon is intelligent yet ditzy, listening when it’s important, sniping in with comments and questions when necessary, sometimes distracting herself with a related story from her past or a pop-culture reference Alaska raises her eyebrow at. It’s nice.

Sharon’s gloved hands are on her arm and then in her purse to pay the bill and leave a very generous tip. Alaska’s eyes widen at the price but Sharon is already pulling her away and outside with an arm around her waist. Her grip is strong and steadies Alaska where she’s feeling tipsy and clumsy on her feet, heels clacking on the sidewalk. The flick of a lighter brings her back to her senses and she watches, hypnotized, as Sharon lights a cigarette and breathes deeply. Smoking has never been a turn on her for, really. But the way the smoke leaves Sharon’s soft lips and the way her eyes go hazy is enough for Alaska to press a kiss to her jaw so Sharon will hail a cab for the both of them.

The back of the cab is stuffy and hot. Sharon’s hands are on Alaska’s thighs and in her hair and Alaska’s eyes are dark. She shifts to wrap a hand around the back of Sharon’s neck and pull her in for a kiss. Their lips press together in a rush, teeth clinking. It feels so cliche and wrong, making out in the back of a taxi. Sharon’s hand is resting on her thigh and she’s nipping at Alaska’s lip so softly she has to hold back her moans. It’s dirty and wrong how much Alaska wants Sharon to take her right then and there, so luckily Sharon’s building is only a few blocks away and it’s not long until Sharon’s paying and tipping and pulling Alaska out of the vehicle.

They stumble past the doorman with a nod and Alaska forces herself not to think about how often Sharon must do this, stumble in drunkenly with a girl on her arm late at night. They press into the elevator and Sharon corners her as they go up the twenty-six flights to her apartment, peppering kisses on her skin and tugging at the hems of her clothes.

From the elevator down the hall to Sharon’s apartment is a blur. Inside, it’s all minimal decor and chandeliers and art on the walls. The floor is hardwood and the furniture is neat and tidy. In her drunken haze, Sharon manages to give a quick tour. Quick tour meaning pointing out the different rooms in the large apartment while stripping herself of her gloves and heels and Alaska following suit as Sharon drags her forward by the hand.

The master bedroom, somehow, exceeds Alaska’s expectations. But then again this woman was a mystery wrapped in an enigma and she wasn’t sure what to expect in the first place. The far wall is all window and she can see all the lights from the city flickering. A chandelier in front of the window from an apartment across the ways twinkles and Alaska can feel the wine in her bloodstream. The floors are dark, the walls are cream and the furniture is matte black. It’s elegant and chic. Alaska can feel Sharon’s eyes on her and wants the floor to swallow her whole. Against the wall is a king sized bed and the headboard is tall, the bars thin and simple and Alaska needs to be fucked and grasping onto them right now. There’s art on the walls and vintage movie posters and Alaska can spot an open sketchbook on the nightstand. Her eyes flicker back to the window when she hears a plane fly overhead.

“You like the view?” It’s more of a statement than a question. Alaska nods anyways. She can feel Sharon’s smile and flushes all up her chest.

Sharon presses her body up along Alaska’s back. She can feel the fabric of her dress and the softness of her breasts against her spine. Her hair brushes Alaska’s shoulders when it’s released from the clip and she has the urge to touch it. She wants to feel it through her fingers and sort out the greys from the blonds, hear Sharon sigh when she massages her scalp. Sharon’s warm against her and presses her forward softly until they’re standing in front of the window and Alaska can see people on the sidewalk. She wonders if they know what’s going on stories above them.

There’s a tug on the zipper of Alaska’s skirt then the cool air is hitting her thighs and Sharon’s helping her step out of it. The older woman hums. It’s low and soft and she can feel it against her shoulder when Sharon tucks her chin over it. She presses a kiss to Alaska’s neck and watches goosebumps rise where her lipstick leaves a mark.

Any other hook-ups Sharon would get the other girl to strip. Make her put on a show for her and work for it. Or it’d be fast and there’d be a trail of clothes from the front door to the bedroom. Like some X-rated drunken Hansel and Gretel. At least it served its purpose when Sharon pretended to be asleep and willed the other person to find their way out in the morning. But Alaska was different. Sharon undresses her slowly in attempt to take her all in. Her thighs were milky and soft. There were the slightest of pink stretch marks where her hips had filled out and the older woman took her time tracing them if only to feel Alaska shiver under her. The things she would do to keep the younger girl shivering under her hands. She slid her kimono off, followed by her bralette so she could cup her breasts and squeeze before pulling her underwear down her hips.

Sharon’s still humming. Completely nonchalant. Alaska has to wonder how many girls she takes home. How many of them she strips in front of the window. If she presses the pads of her thumbs into the underside of their breasts and pinches their nipples and hips just to hear them squeak. Sharon’s still fully dressed, save for her glasses, heels, and gloves that were shed earlier. She debated on keeping the gloves on, too. If only to see the way Alaska would shiver and blush when a cool leather finger would run through Alaska’s folds only to come out shiny and wet. Next time.

“Sharon…” Alaska’s voice is whiny and Sharon shushes her, tapping her finger on her lips until Alaska takes it into her mouth.

“What do you want, baby?” Sharon’s calm and collected. The opposite of Alaska, whose heart is beating against her ribcage so hard it may break. She groans in reply.

Sharon pinches at her nipple with on hand, slipping another finger from her other hand in Alaska’s mouth when she gasps in response. She stumbles forward slightly and presses her palms against the glass as Sharon wraps an arm around her waist to keep her steady. There’s people below bustling on the sidewalk and she can see the people in apartments over. Her breath comes out hot and the window fogs where it hits.

“I got you, it’s okay. Such a pretty baby.” Sharon pets her hair, it’s long and soft in her palm, “I bet everyone outside loves the view just as much as you do.”

Alaska’s thighs shake as Sharon removes her fingers from her mouth. They’re slick with spit and Alaska watches the trail of saliva between her lips and Sharon’s fingers, dips her tongue forward to lick it up. Suddenly, Sharon’s fingers press up against her clit and she groans. Her head falls back against Sharon’s shoulder and her fingers curl against the glass searching to find purchase. The window feels like ice against her skin. But it may just be from the way her skin is radiating heat and the sweat is sticking to her. Sharon rubs slow circles and watches how Alaska’s hip shakes. Her left thigh twitches when Sharon trails a single finger back and forth over the nerves and her hips jerk forward when she presses the heel of her hand against it in order to rub against her hole with her fingers.

“Tell me what you want. I just want to make you feel good.” Sharon’s voice is warm and she can feel the pout against her ear. She’s teasing. Her fingers skate past Alaska’s clit again and she presses the tip of a finger inside of her. It slips just past the muscle until the younger girl gasps and then it’s gone.

“Fuck me, please. Please mama. God.” Alaska’s whining high in her throat. Her throat catches on the mama and she flushes from embarrassment, all up her chest to her cheeks. Sharon kisses and smiles against her shoulder.

Alaska nearly cries when Sharon slips a finger inside her. Her pussy is warm and wet and Sharon fucks her slow. The sound echoes in the otherwise silent room and Alaska whimpers. Her centre is pink and swollen and Sharon relishes in the sound, slips another finger in without problem and scissors them just to hear Alaska’s embarrassed cry when she comments on how wet she is. Her fingers work slow and Alaska is squirming enough that Sharon has to wrap her arm back around her waist, pressing her naked form against Sharon’s clothed one to keep her still. Alaska’s trailing her hands backwards. Up into Sharon’s hair and down her side, around to her ass and thighs, then back down to try and intertwine their fingers and press Sharon deeper into her.

“Alaska baby, no. You’ll get there. I’ll take care of you.” Sharon tsked, her tone stern.

Alaska whines and curls her fingers into Sharon’s arm. Sharon digs her fingers deeper and crooks them. Alaska’s bowlegged knees buckle and she reaches out again to steady herself against the window and lean back against Sharon. Her eyes are glued shut and her lips are parted and Sharon works her so sweetly, pumping two fingers and swiping her thumb in soft circles around Alaska’s clit.

“You gonna cum? So beautiful. Cum for me baby girl.” Sharon murmurs. Her eyes are dark and downcast, shaded by her eyelashes.

Alaska finishes with a cry and her legs give out. Her small frame is shaking and Sharon holds her close, shifts them until they’re back onto the bed and Alaska is panting. The city light reflects on the sweat on Alaska’s chest. Her breasts are illuminated and Sharon leans down to nip at a nipple and Alaska gasps from the overstimulation.

Quickly, Sharon sheds her clothing, nearly ripping a button from her dress in the process. She shifts Alaska onto her back and moves to straddle her chest. Alaska’s panting. Her breasts fall when she exhales and Sharon watches how they shake, reaches out to pinch the skin around her nipple. Her thumb trails against Alaska’s lips and she opens her mouth for it, suckling it and groaning around the digit. A whine escapes her when Sharon pulls her thumb away and trails spit across her bottom lip to see how they glisten.

Sharon’s hips move of their own accord, shifting upwards until she’s against Alaska’s mouth. Her tongue laps out immediately. She presses the flat of her tongue against Sharon’s clit and hears her groan closed mouth. She prods more then, circling around the nub until Sharon is circling her hips above her and grinding against her mouth. Alaska moves her hands to Sharon’s thighs, gives them a squeeze and presses her nose against the groomed hairs. Her breath is cut off and she can feel herself flushing from the effort but she can’t find it in her to stop. The older woman is shaking above her and Alaska sucks hard on her clit. Wetness covers the bottom of Alaska’s face and Sharon whimpers before lifting herself off.

“So good. So, so good doll.” Sharon shifts until they’re both under the sheets and presses a kiss to Alaska’s lips, chin, jaw, cheek. She sighs out through her nose and pulls the girl close to her, nudging her knee between the other’s thighs and holding her head to her chest until Alaska’s breathing matches the beating of her heart.

—

When Alaska wakes, the spot in bed beside her is cold and there’s a dull ache deep in her skull. Sunlight filters in through the large window and Alaska has to squint to look around the room. The cream sheets are glowing pale yellow in the light. They’re soft against her skin where she feels sweaty and gross, and it takes a moment for Alaska to remember where she is. The framed poster for a campy 80s slasher films jerks her memory. Sharon.

She pads out of bed slowly, shifting over to the dresser where she finds last night’s clothes folded up neatly along with a pair of shorts and shirt that Sharon must’ve left out. It’s weird, almost domestic. Most hook ups don’t do this. But then again, most hook ups weren’t older goth women who spend over $100 at dinner without a blink of an eye then fuck Alaska in front of their gigantic window up on the 26th floor of a high class apartment. Alaska squeezes back into her pencil skirt and slips her bralette over her head while making her way out to the rest of the apartment.

There’s a note on the island in the kitchen, atop the granite.

I’m so sorry, I had to run before you woke up! You look gorgeous even in your sleep .. Is that weird to say?

Feel free to shower and help yourself to breakfast and coffee.

I would love to see you again, doll. <3

Sharon Needles

There’s a mug with little ghosts on it beside the note and it’s all too weird and too much. Alaska orders an Uber with the last of her phone battery, adds the number scribbled at the bottom of the paper into her contacts, then tucks the note into the back of her phone case. The doorman downstairs gives her a nod of acknowledgement when she eaves the building and as she got into her Uber she lets out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding.

The rest of the day went by in a haze. Alaska took a cold, cold shower and puttered around her apartment making shitty coffee and a bowl of cereal before going to work. Her afternoon shift was full of fake smiles and frappuccinos and she spilled hot coffee on herself in a distracted haze and cursed, her co-workers giving her concerned glances. It wasn’t her fault. It was purely coincidence how she kept getting distracted whenever she noticed the crows feet on a lady sitting in the corner or the grey-blue eyes of the young girl she was taking an order from.

She texted Sharon when she got home.  

—

The next time they meet up it’s during the day in a nice area downtown. It’s a very Liberal area. Rainbow crosswalk and all. It’s chalked full of vegan restaurants and nice little expensive shops and it’s another area that Alaska would love to be able to walk down on a random afternoon and not feel intimidated, but that’s not quite the case right now.

Alaska’s in a white shirt tucked into a black skater skirt with a flannel, and half her hair is pulled up into two buns. She feels cute. And gay. And she hopes Sharon thinks the same enough to like, hold her hand or something, or finger her in the washroom of some mom-and-pop restaurant. Maybe both. She tries not to think too much about it as her Uber parks just down the road from the diner Sharon told her to meet her at.

The restaurant is small and cute, not to mention far less intimidating from the last place. There’re plants hanging from the ceiling and a large fish tank. It’s earthy and warm. Scanning the room, there’s no sign of Sharon but before she goes and sits down to wait she hears a soft ‘boo!’ from behind her. Alaska flushes at how she jumped in response and Sharon laughs, pulling her into a hug. The booths are made of worn down leather and the floor creaks slightly as they make their way to a seat. She feels far more “in her element” here, yet her chest still feels tight as Sharon sits across from her.

Her hair is soft and curled, but her eyes are dark and blown out and her lips are plump and red. It’s a dramatic look for one o’clock on a Tuesday, but Alaska doesn’t mind. Her black mock neck shirt hugs her body and her pants are tight and match her lips. It’s modern and chic and Alaska feels underdressed. But Sharon’s gaze is smouldering and trails down her body with a smile. It feels oddly familiar. Oddly comforting.

Sharon asks the waiter if they have Pabst in bottles, not on tap, (they do), and Alaska orders a lemonade. The menu is handwritten and cute, with tacky pun names and illustrations. A foot brushes up against Alaska’s and Sharon’s hand is on her arm. She’s humming as she reads, her lips pursed. Her cool eyes are squinted slightly from her lack of glasses and her crows feet crease slightly. It’s endearing, really. Her fingers are tracing the blue veins under the skin and Alaska wonders if she can feel the goosebumps raising, or if she even realizes she’s doing it in the first place. She imagines Sharon can feel the blood pulsing under her skin. A steady rhythm. By the time the waiter comes back to take their order Alaska had barely read the menu and stumbles slightly, ordering a salad. Sharon shoots her a knowing smile, curling her fingers around Alaska’s small wrist.

“So what do you do, exactly?” Sharon raises her eyebrows at the question, letting her thumb rub at Alaska’s arm.

“Well…” She pauses to take a sip of her beer, “To put it simply I work on short films. They’re just independent projects, mostly horror. I’ve always loved the genre and I love creating and I had the money so I said fuck it, got a group together and we’ve been working together since. We have a pretty strong fan base too, fucked up if you ask me.” Sharon laughs, big and booming in the otherwise calm restaurant.

Alaska smiles and asks about her projects. Her eyes light up when she talks and Alaska can see how her cheekbones protrude when she smiles that wide. The older woman talks about horror movies she admires, how growing up the weird goth dyke made her truly admire the villains in films who got revenge on the preps and the jocks. Most other people would be terrified to hear how their date relates to the killers in these films, but with Sharon it makes sense. She throws herself entirely into her work. Throws herself into the scripts and the storyboards and all the inspirations. She’s always hovering around people on set and fucking with lighting and costumes then marathoning films she’s seen before and can probably quote word for word. This woman is intelligent and intense but spooky and stupid and Alaska doesn’t quite know what to make of her.  

They eat, and talk, and Sharon drinks a few more PBR. Alaska steals a fry from Sharon’s plate and dips it in the surprisingly good vegan milkshake Sharon had guilted her into ordering, just because she refused a lemonade refill and that just wasn’t happening in Sharon’s books. The older woman threw another fry at her for Alaska’s amusement. She was like a baby. A cute one, not an annoying crying one. She was one that you just wanted to keep cooing and giggling and happy. They ordered cheesecake to share and Sharon fed it to her across the table, watching as Alaska’s lips pursed around the fork.

When they go to pay, Alaska pulls her wallet out of her purse. Sharon tsks and gives her a warning look to put her wallet away, and Alaska tries to ignore the way heat pools in her stomach.

As they leave, Sharon snakes an arm around Alaska’s waist. It fits there, and Alaska doesn’t mind. Her hand dips into the curve of her small waist and settles on her hip. It’s a warm heaviness and Alaska has to walk a little closer to Sharon due to it.

“Y’know, I didn’t realize I was gay until my senior year of high school maybe.” Alaska looks down at the small ceramic ghost in her hand, thinks that Sharon might like it. Her voice startles Sharon from where she’s standing a few feet away looking at a similar ceramic cat.

“Really? You come across as the loud and proud type. Like head cheerleader that all the bi-curious girls go to behind the bleachers to get their lesbian cherry popped.”

“Okay fair enough. Let me guess, little goth bitch who punched out anyone who tried to cuss you out for being a dyke?” Alaska fires back, putting down the small ghost and patting its head.

“I’ve had my fair share of physical encounters . I’ll admit to that. No shame in punching someone’s teeth in when they disrespect you.” Sharon raises her eyebrows in question to Alaska, “Although it did take half of freshman year before I started fighting back. I don’t eat meat but I’ll use ‘em to nurse a black eye if I have to.”

The older woman laughs but Alaska can’t help but imagine her younger, smaller. 14 year old Sharon nursing her wounds because some asshole thought she was a good target. 14 year old Sharon reapplying black lipstick in an abandoned girls’ washroom. 14 year old Sharon being unapologetically herself despite her entire school seemingly working against her because she was a bit eccentric and queer. 14 year old Sharon going home and watching shitty horror movies as a distraction from the shit she had to deal with. It tugged on Alaska’s heart strings.

From antique shops to run down clubs to vintage boho chic clothing stores, they check them all out. Alaska tries on a dress that looks like it’s made of trash bags and spins, laughing as it floats up around her. Sharon hides behind a shelf in a costume store, popping out with fake teeth and a witch hat on to startle Alaska. Alaska tries on a horse mask at the back of the store, recalling how people in school used to call her horse face . It doesn’t bother her anymore though, and she neighs in the mask before ripping it off and laughing.

“If we ever get into a fight I’ll just buy us animal masks. You can’t be pissed off at someone when you’re a fucking horse and they’re a frog” Sharon shifts through the masks, laughing before pulling on Alaska’s arm back to the front of the store.

The next store they go into is pastel and airy. They sell lingerie and chiffon peignoirs, lace slip dresses and thigh high stockings with matching garters. It’s all out of Alaska’s price range. This isn’t just a store that you go to when going out with friends shopping. She knows this. And she knows Sharon knows this. Sharon walks in like she owns the place, one arm still wrapped around Alaska’s waist like she owns her and the other weaving through fabrics.

“What’s your size, baby?” Sharon presses a kiss to her cheek and Alaska can feel her throat close in.

Her fingers clench into a fist. She’s sweating. Why is she sweating?

“Uh, I’m a 36C. Medium for everything else, I guess.”

Sharon hums and shifts through the isles. The bags on her arm dig into the skin, making it pink and white. Alaska wants to kiss it. Sharon purchased some tacky looking Halloween knick-knacks, and anything Alaska looked at for over ten seconds and seemed interested in. It made her blush when Sharon insisted on buying it. They both drift around the store for a while, brushing off the sleepy looking girl who asked if they needed any help.

Eventually, they end up near the back by the empty changing rooms. Sharon pulls Alaska into one, pulling the pale pink door shut behind her and clicking the lock shut. It’s a roomy area, with a large mirror on the back wall. The two walls are lined with benches and there’s a small circle stool in the corner. Alaska can feel the air heating up. Or maybe it’s just her. Sharon’s hanging things up on the hooks and looking back at Alaska expectantly when minutes pass and she’s still fully dressed.

“Don’t be shy, baby.” Sharon’s voice is soft. Her thighs spill outwards from where she’s sitting on the stool and she crosses her legs, resting her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands.

Alaska sucks in a breath before stripping, gauging her actions based on Sharon’s face. She tries on all the pieces Sharon picked out, ranging from sheer bras and thongs to intricate high wasted panties with matching garters and stockings. She tries on all the robes and slips, lets Sharon run her hands over the silk dawning her thighs. She spins her finger and Alaska turns in each outfit to show how her ass peeks out of the underwear and how her hair runs soft down her back. Sharon’s making soft sounds.

When Alaska gets to the last set, black high waisted fucking crotchless panties with the bra and stockings to match, she feels her face go red hot. It was before, definitely, but this ensemble (if you will) was truly the cherry on top of this fucked up sexually frustrating sundae. She changes slowly, folding the last pieces and putting them back on their hangers on the wall.

“Can you be good for me?” Sharon’s voice comes as a surprise and Alaska nods, spinning around to face the woman.  “Sit down pumpkin. Spread your legs.”

Alaska’s head was spinning. She lowered herself onto the bench slowly and pulled at her knees to spread her legs. Sharon’s gaze was red hot and Alaska squirmed.

“You’re so wet.” Alaska could hear Sharon laugh and she twitched, moving her legs back together slightly. “No baby, you’re being so good. I wanna see you.”

Alaska’s lungs were collapsing. Her insides were burning and she felt so dirty and flustered and they were in a damn changing room . Sharon was fully dressed, legs crossed and lighting a cigarette even though it was against the rules because she just didn’t care. Smoke plumed upwards and she took a long drag, ashing her cigarette against the edge of the stool and turning back to where Alaska was squirming, the air conditioned air hitting her cunt.

“Can you touch yourself for me? I want you to fuck yourself with one finger baby, don’t want you to make too much of a mess.”

Sharon’s voice was so soft yet stern and Alaska wanted to cry. She grazed her index finger over her clit and jerked before tracing around her whole. She was wet. Just from trying on the lingerie and modelling for Sharon. Just being around Sharon. Sharon who had such a domineering energy. Sharon with her hand on the small of her back pressing her forward. Sharon feeding her cheesecake even when she thought she was full. Alaska pressed one finger in and gasped, squeezing her eyes shut to avoid the embarrassment of making eye contact with the other woman.

“Nice and slow, or else the whole store will hear how wet you are right now. Or would you like that? If someone walked back right now and could hear how wet you are, how you’re trying to hold back all your pretty little noises as you put on a show for me.” Sharon to try and relieve the pressure between her own thighs, “Touch your clit for me hun, with your other hand. You’re so good. So pretty”

Alaska gasped with the intensity of it all. Her thumb on her clit and her middle finger pressing up inside of her, shooting stars behind her eyelids. She could feel Sharon watching her, how her eyes were raking up and down her body as she thrust her hips into her own hands. The bench underneath her was probably wet but at this point she couldn’t bring herself to care. The dozy girl working up front could walk in on them, unlock the door from the outside and ask what was taking them so long and Alaska wouldn’t be able to find it in herself to care as long as Sharon wanted her to keep going.

“Sharon, I can’t, I’m gonna-”

“Cum for me baby.” Alaska’s hips shook and she clenched her jaw to try and keep her noises in as she thrust, panting as she came down from her high.

Sharon stood then and sucked Alaska’s wet fingers into her mouth. They left with a pop! and Sharon smiled, letting Alaska change in silence before purchasing everything she picked out and pulling Alaska into an Uber back to her apartment building.

—

School starts up again. Alaska’s in her final year of university. Soon, she’ll have her Bachelor’s Degree in Performing Arts. She’ll be able to move out to LA like she wanted and be successful. She can star in films and put out an album and make it big. She can make her parents proud along with her medical and military brother because she can be successful too! They all thought she wouldn’t make anything of herself. Sure, maybe she’d move out to LA like she’d always dreamed of, but make it big? Nah. Her mom was convinced she was just going to become some drug addicted deviant, but hey, isn’t that the superstar lifestyle anyways?

Alaska’s plans may have changed drastically. As the weeks turned into months, she spent less and less time at her own run down apartment. It wasn’t that she moved in with Sharon, per se, it was just that over time she had ended up moving out of her apartment. Not to mention Sharon had seen one text from her landlord saying that her rent was far overdo and got so worried, telling Alaska to not worry about it because she had it covered. (Which was embarrassing on Alaska’s part, considering any time not spent in a lecture hall was probably spent working, but inflation was a bitch, y’know?). So it’s not like it was some big ordeal when two and a half months into whatever they had, Alaska was staying there most of the time. She just needed a place to stay until she could find somewhere she could actually afford, and Sharon was willing to give her a helping hand! It also helped that Sharon had a tongue that made her see God.

The move in was gradual. Alaska had a healthy collection of clothes and lingerie at Sharon’s apartment, just from previous dates where Sharon insisted she buy everything for Alaska because it just looked so cute on her and she had her own bills to pay, so Sharon would buy. Eventually, a toothbrush showed up in the holder beside Sharon’s. And Alaska’s fancy purple shampoo she splurged on to keep her hair platinum. And a collection of socks and pajamas and other clothes that Alaska would just happen to leave there but never return to her apartment. Of course, since so much of her wardrobe and electronics and chargers and, well, everything, somehow ended up at Sharon’s flat, Alaska spent more and more time there. It was just convenient, that was all.

Alaska’s life was good. Different from where she thought she would be at this point in her life, but good. Violet was hounding her about the “friend” she was staying with, and about how she seemed to have that “post-sex glow” (as she liked to call it) 24-fucking-7, but Violet was a bitch and too nosy for her own good.

She spent her afternoons in the living room of the apartment, practicing lines from a production that was worth quite a hefty amount of her grade. Cerrone was her only spectator. He didn’t throw rotten tomatoes or boo her off of the coffee table stage though, so she takes what she can get. Sometimes Sharon would come home early and watch her, give her pointers and then tell her to stop repeating the same damn lines for the 50th time and put her mouth to good use. It was a good break. Sharon brought up the idea a few times, putting Alaska in some of her short films. It’d be fun! The gorgeous ditzy blonde in a gore-y horror short film? Instant blockbuster! People love cliche shit like that. Plus, Sharon would love to have Alaska on set with her all day.

It was nice, truly. Sharon took them out for dinner or made fancy vegetarian meals. She’d wake Alaska up with her head between her thighs, leaving Alaska to shudder awake in a cool sweat and groaning. There’d be small notes with hearts on them when Sharon would disappear before Alaska got up. Sharon would have an Uber waiting outside Alaska’s Starbuckslocation when she was done work, and sometimes Sharon would even pop in herself to visit even though Alaska knows she’d rather support local businesses than the industry coffee shop she worked at. Sharon bought her fancy clothes and shoes and lingerie just to see Alaska blush and squirm. Alaska would get all quiet and call Sharon mommy and curl up on the couch beside her, pressing kisses to her neck to distract her from the movie she was watching. Or, she’d get bratty and call her mama , call Sharon on set when she was in the apartment alone touching herself. Life was good.

—

Alaska more or less moving in only proved to show how needy she was. She was worse than a pet, but Sharon only had Cerrone to compare her to so maybe it wasn’t the fairest comparison. They both bit Sharon, though. Alaska would text Sharon while she was on set, something along the lines of noodles i miss you :( when are you going to be hoooome? sharonnnn i need you. mama please with an image attached of Alaska leaning up against the pillows wearing one of Sharon’s old shirts, with the tip of one thumb in her mouth and two fingers from her other hand knuckle deep in her cunt. Sharon would have to call it a day early and rush home, finger fuck Alaska into the couch cushions until she saw stars and called Sharon mommy despite how embarrassed she got after.

Sharon loved it, how open Alaska was becoming with her. She stopped hiding her phone calls with her brother, instead she would saunter around the kitchen and sit herself upon Sharon’s lap while she listened to Cory talk about the girl he met at the gym. Sharon would tickle her thigh, slip a finger into her panties just to feel how wet she already was and circle her clit until Alaska hung up the phone. Alaska would come back from her lectures and talk about her professors and how her auditions went. She’d write her essays on the leather couch while Sharon painted her toenails baby pink, ate her out while they dried and let Alaska drop her notes and pen onto the hardwood. Sharon liked how Alaska was becoming less shy, how she would pout when she didn’t get her way and call Sharon mama in public just to be a brat and start a scene. Alaska would press kisses to her cheek unprompted, would stop shying away when Sharon payed their dinner bill and bought her fancy lingerie and shoes, would let Sharon give her glasses of wine all day and press on her bladder while fingering her until she cried.

Today was no different. Alaska knew Sharon was out talking to some of her “creative partners” about an idea she had, an idea that she had been sketching and writing for hours after Alaska had fallen asleep on the couch beside her, toes tucked between Sharon’s thighs. She knew Sharon was having some sort of creative breakthrough and was busy. But Alaska was in the apartment alone, and Sharon had left before she woke up. So now she was just lonely and sad and her underwear shifted coldly against her.

lasky <3: noodles when will you be home?

noodles <333: I don’t know baby .. The girl I’m at lunch with is a really talented costume and prop designer. Even if she is a bit stand-offish.

lasky <3: but i neeeeeed you :(

Alaska sent a photo. She was in a sheer pink robe Sharon had bought for her. It was flowy and elegant and trailed behind Alaska on the floor when she walked. It made her feel like an old housewife. She wanted a spiral staircase, wanted to stand at the top of it with a glass of champagne in her hand. Underneath it she wore nothing. She was pouty and annoyed and leaning back on the couch pillows, lips parted and pinching a nipple between two fingers.

noodles <333: I’ll be home in an hour .. Picking up some things. Hope you know how spoiled you are. Brat.

lasky <3: :) :) :) <3

When Sharon gets home, her heart nearly beats out of her chest. She’s had her fair number of romances. Mostly with woman her own age, sometimes younger. Some of them even made it past the six month mark in their relationship. There was something about Alaska though that had Sharon’s head spinning. It was like her entire world had shifted by this girl and was spinning backwards on its axis. Backwards and upside-down. And double time. Whatever. Alaska was curled up on the couch, nude except for the robe, with Cerrone in her lap. She was humming softly to herself and her toes were curled into the couch cushions where her legs were folded underneath her. The natural light made her hair and skin glow and it was so soft and right. Long term didn’t usually work with Sharon. The only long term relationships she had were with cocaine and whiskey and fucking Cerrone the cat, who she didn’t even want in the first place. So why did coming back to her apartment daily to Alaska make it feel more like a home than ever before?

“You’re such a brat, you know that, right?” At the sound of Sharon’s voice Cerrone hops off of Alaska, allowing her to get up to greet Sharon.

“Lies, mama. You’re full of lies.” Alaska laughs and presses a kiss to the dimple in Sharon’s chin. “What’d you get me?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know. Go lie down, pumpkin.” Sharon kisses the side of her hair and gives her ass a tap before Alaska nods and heads to the bedroom.

Alaska’s long and full on the bed. Her hips and breasts filled out more after being with Sharon. Sharon took her out for lunch and dinner, fed her cheesecake and other expensive desserts. She always made sure her baby was cared for. Alaska’s hips were soft and propped up with a long pillow, and her breasts were full and heavy against her chest as she breathed deeply, waiting for Sharon.

The rabbit vibrator Sharon comes into the room with is black. It’s not overly long, but the girth makes up for it. Alaska knows Sharon will have to stretch her, start with two fingers just so Alaska can feel the burn then stuff her with three.

“Mommy please…” Alaska draws it out, flutters her eyelashes.

She’s pouty and wet and Sharon kneels beside her on the bed, pulls one of Alaska’s legs up and out to spread her open.

“So wet already baby? Greedy girl.” Alaska screws her eyes shut at the words. “Open your eyes for me sweetheart. Watch mama.”

Sharon slips two fingers inside of the younger girl and Alaska cries, twisting her hips. Her fingers are thick and strong and they fuck Alaska almost mechanically, avoiding her g-spot but scissoring to stretch her open. It burns slightly and Alaska gasps, heat curling in her stomach. She can hear Sharon’s fingers moving in and out of her, can hear when a third one enters. Alaska tries to clench her thighs together but with Sharon between them she’s stuck spread open. She wants to move and squirm, clamp around Sharon’s hand, but Sharon’s got her hip pinned down and is kneeling above Alaska with so much dominance she’s stuck in position with nowhere else to go.

When Alaska’s stretched and dripping, Sharon presses the vibrator inside until it’s snug against both her g-spot and clit. Alaska’s whining high and nasally. Her eyes are dark and her fingers are tugging at the sheets and she’s watching Sharon desperately. It clicks on and she gasps and cries, her hip twitching at the sudden stimulation.

“I should buy you another one of these. A small one that slips into your panties.” Alaska whines and moves her thumb to her mouth, partly to have something to bite and partly to have something to stifle her pathetic cries. “Could turn it on while you’re out picking up dry cleaning. Or while you’re out with mommy’s credit card. Bet you’d love how everyone would watch you as you whined, unable to stop it.”

Alaska gasped as Sharon started moving the vibrator, slowly pressing it in and out of her slightly. It pressed so tightly against where she was the most sensitive and she cried out, thrusting her hips up into the pressure. Heat was curling in her stomach and she could feel her peak building. Her breasts were shaking above her in time with her panting.

“It’s pathetic, really,” Sharon stopped the vibrator, leaving it still and full in Alaska, “how desperate you are for me. Texting me while I’m out, expecting me to drop everything and come get you off like the greedy little slut you are.”

The twitch of Alaska’s thigh and how her eyes almost roll back remind Sharon of just how much she loves it. Being humiliated like that. She loves when Sharon makes fun of how wet she is, how open and soft she is and how she fucks herself on Sharon’s single finger wanting more, how turned on she gets when Sharon buys her expensive lingerie only to rip it off of her later because money isn’t an issue.

She wonders if Alaska could get off on it alone. Just Sharon’s fingers pinching her nipples, fingering her slowly and avoiding the areas she needed the attention so badly. Sharon would comment on how swollen she was, how it was cute that she thrust up and squirmed as if Sharon was actually going to give her what she wanted. She’d bite on Alaska’s nipple, laughing as she flicked the sensitive bud while leaning over the younger girl, still fully clothed. Sharon thinks she could do it. She’d cum untouched and almost instantly recoil, heat exploding in her lower stomach and her cheeks flushing. Sharon would laugh and watch Alaska’s cunt clench and shake before pressing a kiss to her pubic mound.

But for now Alaska was spread and shaking in front of her, thrusting to try and get the toy to touch her and push her over the edge.

“No, no, no, no mama please. That’s not fair.” Alaska’s voice is whiny and pouty, drawing every syllable out, and Sharon can hear her puffing out air through her nose. Tears gather in the corner of Alaska’s eyes.

“Nothing’s ever fair, baby. And you’re gonna take what I give so maybe I’ll let you cum.” Sharon gives Alaska’s thigh a pat once she’s come down from the edge, then turns the vibrator on low.

This time around Alaska yells out brokenly, hips chasing the feeling so hard Sharon has to pin her down with both hands. Her eyes are screwed shut and Sharon can see where tears start leaking from them. Alaska’s mumbling something incoherent and thrashing her head back and forth, digging her fingertips into the pillow under her head. The cycle repeats itself a few more times, bringing Alaska up to the edge and then ripping it from her. She’s become unable to form any words other than please, no, and mommy and it’s like some sick power move on Sharon’s part. How Alaska’s whole world right now revolves around Sharon, and whether or not Sharon’s going to let her cum.

When Sharon turns the vibrator up instead of off and presses it tight up against Alaska, the younger girl cries and pushes off the bed, thighs trying to close around the toy. Her whines are high pitched and she’s gasping. The wet sounds her pussy is making is obscene and Sharon watches her twitch and clench, all wet and shiny.

Sharon pets Alaska’s hair as she comes down, slips the toy out of her and puts it on the nightstand. She kisses around Alaska’s face and tells her she’s beautiful, that she did so good, mommy’s so proud. The bed dips when she leaves for only a second. She gets a glass of water and a cloth to wipe Alaska off, and grabs her sketchbook from where it sits in her purse. She fingers herself hard as Alaska comes back to her senses and licks around her nipple, trailing her airy hands across Sharon’s body.

Softly, Sharon kisses Alaska’s forehead when she’s sure she’s asleep, and pulls out her sketchbook.

tags - alaska thunderfuck, sharon needles, shalaska, smut, lesbian au, sugar mama au, mommy kink

It wasn’t something she ever saw herself doing. Or even thought about doing until Violet mentioned it as a joke while scrolling through her Tinder and Alaska got a text from her manager saying she was booked for significantly fewer hours than before. She’d used dating apps before, yes, she was a Pisces. Alaska was a gentle lover. She was passionate and caring because love was fulfilling and completing. The second half of the circle that was her life. She’d been on Tinder and Bumble and any other “lesbian” dating app that had caught her eye. She’d even been on some dates, some successful, some not. None of them led to the romantic fantasy she dreamed of though, given her settings were to girls her age who most of the times were experimenting in their college days and didn’t want anything more than to drink and fuck and not talk again. Alaska was 21. She was a junior in college, she could go to bars and order booze herself, she could pay her bills (barely) in her run down apartment, and if she wanted to change up her online dating profile a little to target a slightly different audience, she damn well could.

So, that’s how her Tinder was back up and running, bio set to Alaska, 21, my names yours, whats alaska? performance major at pittsburgh u, starbucks barista extraordinaire, pisces (but im more of a snake than a fish), and yes i am naturally a platinum blonde and preferences set to woman ages 30-50. Her manager was left on delivered but her landlord was texted and asked about rent being a few days late. She sent a silent prayer to anyone who was listening before settling into bed on her stomach and opening the aforementioned app.

The glow of her iPhone screen illuminated her face in the now dark room. Pittsburgh was busy outside, which was typical for a Thursday night when you lived in the middle of the city. Not what some would say was the good middle of the city, but middle of the city nonetheless. Middle of the city enough that Alaska was living paycheck to paycheck trying to make rent while her building simultaneously was falling apart. What was good though, was the handful of woman Alaska was willing to swipe right on. Katya, 35, former Russian gymnast and now a hot blonde yoga instructor.  Bianca, 43, a seamstress with dimples for days. Raja, 45, a makeup artist who happened to be drop dead gorgeous too, which wasn’t quite fair in Alaska’s books.

Sharon, 42, writer of indie horror films. Busty, blonde with hints of silver, permanent bedroom eyes and velvet lips. Her Tinder pictures were her with a raggedy looking cat, her with her head thrown back in laughter and a bottle Pabst, her in a silk robe with tortoiseshell glasses perched on her nose and a glass of champagne in her hand. Alaska hovered on the profile for a moment. She tried to take in the tattoos and the dimple in her chin. The high cheekbones and her sultry glare and the way her clothes hung to her curves. Her thumbs hovered and she sucked in a deep breath before super liking and clicking her phone shut. From under her pillow, her phone buzzed but she ignored it and pulled her blanket up to her chin.

—

The first thing Alaska does after she wakes up is check her phone and have a minor heart attack over the messages on her screen. Well, that’s a lie. The first thing she does is de-tangle her hair from the elastic it was in, push herself up from her mattress on the floor and stretch until she can hear her back crack, make herself a coffee, and then almost spill the scalding liquid on herself when she clicks her phone open.

Sharon: Well, aren’t you a sweet little thing?

Sharon: What are you up to doll?

The hot horror babe double her age had super-liked her back and messaged her first.

Alaska: oh shit sorry, i fell asleep last night !

Sharon responds in nearly a minute and they fall into easy conversation. Alaska mentions she’s up to nothing, really, as she’s not booked for work and there was still a good two weeks before she had to start classes again. The other woman mentions just writing and sketching, working on concepts but other than that doing “fuck all”. The conversation turns shallow, as online dating conversations usually do, and Sharon mentions how Alaska’s gorgeous, how her smile could kill and how her hips are mesmerizing. She asks for a picture and Alaska doesn’t know why she’s blushing all the way up her chest. Or why she spends 5 minutes trying to fix herself up to send a photo to impress a woman she doesn’t know.

—

It was only two nights later when Alaska had agreed to meet Sharon for dinner.

She had scoured her closet for something to wear on a date. Going to bars and clubs, sure. She had clothes for that. Clothes for a date with a woman 21 years her senior who showered her in compliments, was extremely blunt, and had a charmingly crude sense of humour? Yeah, can’t say she’s had to dress for that before. But there’s always a first time for everything. She settles eventually on a sparkly black bralette that dips in slightly to show her cleavage and a black pencil skirt. The length of the pencil skirt cancels out the sexuality of the bralette and the way the skirt hugs her hips, obviously. For good measure, she pairs it with a floral blue kimono and what she hopes are her best pair of black fuck me heels.

The restaurant Sharon had picked out was a couple of blocks away. It was some fancy vegetarian place that Alaska had never heard of, but from a quick Google search she concluded that it was definitely out of her price range and somewhere she could never imagine herself stepping into. It’d be like a bull in a china shop, out of the ordinary and a very bad idea. She wasn’t fancy. Sure, one day, when she was a performer making millions maybe she would’ve returned to the city and ate at some fancy vegetarian restaurant. But now, a simple Starbucks barista who had a mattress in the corner of her room and wallpaper made of sketches and drawings? Nope.

It’s only when she got to the restaurant that she realized she was shaking. Why was she so nervous? She had thanked her Uber driver with a nervous smile and rated five stars, watching as he drove away while wringing her hands together nervously.

The inside was beautiful. All velvet upholstery. There was soft music playing and the walls were lined with paintings. It was classy and chic. And it smelt expensive. There was even a maître d who eyed her as she stood, nearly trembling in her heels like a deer caught in the headlights. It was embarrassing and she thought for a moment of just leaving. She was here to have a good night and hopefully get laid by an extremely hot woman and she was in it to win it but right now she wasn’t feeling like a winner.

“Alaska!” A woman called from a booth in the right corner, almost completely out of view and Alaska dipped away from the maître d with a shy smile and scurried over.

She was more gorgeous in person, somehow. Her blonde hair was clipped back from her face and the dim lighting didn’t reveal much, but Alaska could see the glimpses of silver where stray locks of hair fell around her face. Her cheekbones were high and her face was contoured and hollowed out. Her lips were pouty and plush. They’d be nice to kiss. Probably. Hopefully. Her tortoiseshell glasses were perched on her nose and Alaska could see from behind them where Sharon’s eyeshadow was creasing slightly where it fell into her crows feet. She wanted to brush it away, feel Sharon’s soft looking skin under her fingers.

Strong arms were hugging Alaska before she was able to process what was happening. Sharon was warm around her, rubbing her back and squeezing her waist. Her short sleeved blazer and pencil skirt was clinging to her body, the burnt orange contrasting with the black of Sharon’s bra that was spilling from where the buttons didn’t go quite high enough. Alaska trailed her eyes up the long leather gloves she was wearing and over the tattoo of a phone number just where the gloves ended above her elbow.

“Sit, sit! Hi darling, how are you?” Sharon’s eyes twinkled as she sat back down, pouring out two glasses of wine from the bottle already sitting on the table.

“I’m, uh, really well! Thank you! How about yourself?” Alaska smiled, graciously taking the wine. Maybe the alcohol would soothe her nerves. “Also sorry for running a bit late. Traffic. You know.”

“Don’t even worry about it!” Sharon shrugs and smiles before reaching out and resting her hand over Alaska’s on the table.

Sharon is touchy. Her heel clad foot is hooked around Alaska’s ankle and trailing up and down her calf slowly. Goosebumps raise on Alaska’s skin and she wonders if Sharon can feel them, or if she can sense when her breath catches in her throat and her cheeks flush. She’s always reaching across the table and taking Alaska’s hand in her own, bumping hands when passing a menu over or leaning across to grasp at her arm when Alaska says something funny enough to make Sharon throw her head back in laughter.

They talk and eat and drink. Sharon leans forward to feed Alaska bites of her risotto, claiming that her soup simply can’t be enough and she doesn’t care about the price. The waitress comes and goes with another bottle of wine and Alaska pours herself another glass, stains it with her lipstick and Sharon makes her laugh so hard red wine comes out of her nose much to her embarrassment.

Her eyes are bright and intense. Sharon’s asking Alaska about where she works, what she does. Alaska’s cheeks are pink from the attention but she doesn’t mind, really. Sharon listens when she talks about being a performance major, how she loves plays (especially musicals) and how she writes songs (but they’re mostly parodies, because they’re more fun) and how she really wants to make it big some day. She listens as Alaska talks about her brothers, who are either doctors or in the military and the wine talks about how sometimes she feels a little bit ashamed of herself for not being as successful as them. Sharon is intelligent yet ditzy, listening when it’s important, sniping in with comments and questions when necessary, sometimes distracting herself with a related story from her past or a pop-culture reference Alaska raises her eyebrow at. It’s nice.

Sharon’s gloved hands are on her arm and then in her purse to pay the bill and leave a very generous tip. Alaska’s eyes widen at the price but Sharon is already pulling her away and outside with an arm around her waist. Her grip is strong and steadies Alaska where she’s feeling tipsy and clumsy on her feet, heels clacking on the sidewalk. The flick of a lighter brings her back to her senses and she watches, hypnotized, as Sharon lights a cigarette and breathes deeply. Smoking has never been a turn on her for, really. But the way the smoke leaves Sharon’s soft lips and the way her eyes go hazy is enough for Alaska to press a kiss to her jaw so Sharon will hail a cab for the both of them.

The back of the cab is stuffy and hot. Sharon’s hands are on Alaska’s thighs and in her hair and Alaska’s eyes are dark. She shifts to wrap a hand around the back of Sharon’s neck and pull her in for a kiss. Their lips press together in a rush, teeth clinking. It feels so cliche and wrong, making out in the back of a taxi. Sharon’s hand is resting on her thigh and she’s nipping at Alaska’s lip so softly she has to hold back her moans. It’s dirty and wrong how much Alaska wants Sharon to take her right then and there, so luckily Sharon’s building is only a few blocks away and it’s not long until Sharon’s paying and tipping and pulling Alaska out of the vehicle.

They stumble past the doorman with a nod and Alaska forces herself not to think about how often Sharon must do this, stumble in drunkenly with a girl on her arm late at night. They press into the elevator and Sharon corners her as they go up the twenty-six flights to her apartment, peppering kisses on her skin and tugging at the hems of her clothes.

From the elevator down the hall to Sharon’s apartment is a blur. Inside, it’s all minimal decor and chandeliers and art on the walls. The floor is hardwood and the furniture is neat and tidy. In her drunken haze, Sharon manages to give a quick tour. Quick tour meaning pointing out the different rooms in the large apartment while stripping herself of her gloves and heels and Alaska following suit as Sharon drags her forward by the hand.

The master bedroom, somehow, exceeds Alaska’s expectations. But then again this woman was a mystery wrapped in an enigma and she wasn’t sure what to expect in the first place. The far wall is all window and she can see all the lights from the city flickering. A chandelier in front of the window from an apartment across the ways twinkles and Alaska can feel the wine in her bloodstream. The floors are dark, the walls are cream and the furniture is matte black. It’s elegant and chic. Alaska can feel Sharon’s eyes on her and wants the floor to swallow her whole. Against the wall is a king sized bed and the headboard is tall, the bars thin and simple and Alaska needs to be fucked and grasping onto them right now. There’s art on the walls and vintage movie posters and Alaska can spot an open sketchbook on the nightstand. Her eyes flicker back to the window when she hears a plane fly overhead.

“You like the view?” It’s more of a statement than a question. Alaska nods anyways. She can feel Sharon’s smile and flushes all up her chest.

Sharon presses her body up along Alaska’s back. She can feel the fabric of her dress and the softness of her breasts against her spine. Her hair brushes Alaska’s shoulders when it’s released from the clip and she has the urge to touch it. She wants to feel it through her fingers and sort out the greys from the blonds, hear Sharon sigh when she massages her scalp. Sharon’s warm against her and presses her forward softly until they’re standing in front of the window and Alaska can see people on the sidewalk. She wonders if they know what’s going on stories above them.

There’s a tug on the zipper of Alaska’s skirt then the cool air is hitting her thighs and Sharon’s helping her step out of it. The older woman hums. It’s low and soft and she can feel it against her shoulder when Sharon tucks her chin over it. She presses a kiss to Alaska’s neck and watches goosebumps rise where her lipstick leaves a mark.

Any other hook-ups Sharon would get the other girl to strip. Make her put on a show for her and work for it. Or it’d be fast and there’d be a trail of clothes from the front door to the bedroom. Like some X-rated drunken Hansel and Gretel. At least it served its purpose when Sharon pretended to be asleep and willed the other person to find their way out in the morning. But Alaska was different. Sharon undresses her slowly in attempt to take her all in. Her thighs were milky and soft. There were the slightest of pink stretch marks where her hips had filled out and the older woman took her time tracing them if only to feel Alaska shiver under her. The things she would do to keep the younger girl shivering under her hands. She slid her kimono off, followed by her bralette so she could cup her breasts and squeeze before pulling her underwear down her hips.

Sharon’s still humming. Completely nonchalant. Alaska has to wonder how many girls she takes home. How many of them she strips in front of the window. If she presses the pads of her thumbs into the underside of their breasts and pinches their nipples and hips just to hear them squeak. Sharon’s still fully dressed, save for her glasses, heels, and gloves that were shed earlier. She debated on keeping the gloves on, too. If only to see the way Alaska would shiver and blush when a cool leather finger would run through Alaska’s folds only to come out shiny and wet. Next time.

“Sharon…” Alaska’s voice is whiny and Sharon shushes her, tapping her finger on her lips until Alaska takes it into her mouth.

“What do you want, baby?” Sharon’s calm and collected. The opposite of Alaska, whose heart is beating against her ribcage so hard it may break. She groans in reply.

Sharon pinches at her nipple with on hand, slipping another finger from her other hand in Alaska’s mouth when she gasps in response. She stumbles forward slightly and presses her palms against the glass as Sharon wraps an arm around her waist to keep her steady. There’s people below bustling on the sidewalk and she can see the people in apartments over. Her breath comes out hot and the window fogs where it hits.

“I got you, it’s okay. Such a pretty baby.” Sharon pets her hair, it’s long and soft in her palm, “I bet everyone outside loves the view just as much as you do.”

Alaska’s thighs shake as Sharon removes her fingers from her mouth. They’re slick with spit and Alaska watches the trail of saliva between her lips and Sharon’s fingers, dips her tongue forward to lick it up. Suddenly, Sharon’s fingers press up against her clit and she groans. Her head falls back against Sharon’s shoulder and her fingers curl against the glass searching to find purchase. The window feels like ice against her skin. But it may just be from the way her skin is radiating heat and the sweat is sticking to her. Sharon rubs slow circles and watches how Alaska’s hip shakes. Her left thigh twitches when Sharon trails a single finger back and forth over the nerves and her hips jerk forward when she presses the heel of her hand against it in order to rub against her hole with her fingers.

“Tell me what you want. I just want to make you feel good.” Sharon’s voice is warm and she can feel the pout against her ear. She’s teasing. Her fingers skate past Alaska’s clit again and she presses the tip of a finger inside of her. It slips just past the muscle until the younger girl gasps and then it’s gone.

“Fuck me, please. Please mama. God.” Alaska’s whining high in her throat. Her throat catches on the mama and she flushes from embarrassment, all up her chest to her cheeks. Sharon kisses and smiles against her shoulder.

Alaska nearly cries when Sharon slips a finger inside her. Her pussy is warm and wet and Sharon fucks her slow. The sound echoes in the otherwise silent room and Alaska whimpers. Her centre is pink and swollen and Sharon relishes in the sound, slips another finger in without problem and scissors them just to hear Alaska’s embarrassed cry when she comments on how wet she is. Her fingers work slow and Alaska is squirming enough that Sharon has to wrap her arm back around her waist, pressing her naked form against Sharon’s clothed one to keep her still. Alaska’s trailing her hands backwards. Up into Sharon’s hair and down her side, around to her ass and thighs, then back down to try and intertwine their fingers and press Sharon deeper into her.

“Alaska baby, no. You’ll get there. I’ll take care of you.” Sharon tsked, her tone stern.

Alaska whines and curls her fingers into Sharon’s arm. Sharon digs her fingers deeper and crooks them. Alaska’s bowlegged knees buckle and she reaches out again to steady herself against the window and lean back against Sharon. Her eyes are glued shut and her lips are parted and Sharon works her so sweetly, pumping two fingers and swiping her thumb in soft circles around Alaska’s clit.

“You gonna cum? So beautiful. Cum for me baby girl.” Sharon murmurs. Her eyes are dark and downcast, shaded by her eyelashes.

Alaska finishes with a cry and her legs give out. Her small frame is shaking and Sharon holds her close, shifts them until they’re back onto the bed and Alaska is panting. The city light reflects on the sweat on Alaska’s chest. Her breasts are illuminated and Sharon leans down to nip at a nipple and Alaska gasps from the overstimulation.

Quickly, Sharon sheds her clothing, nearly ripping a button from her dress in the process. She shifts Alaska onto her back and moves to straddle her chest. Alaska’s panting. Her breasts fall when she exhales and Sharon watches how they shake, reaches out to pinch the skin around her nipple. Her thumb trails against Alaska’s lips and she opens her mouth for it, suckling it and groaning around the digit. A whine escapes her when Sharon pulls her thumb away and trails spit across her bottom lip to see how they glisten.

Sharon’s hips move of their own accord, shifting upwards until she’s against Alaska’s mouth. Her tongue laps out immediately. She presses the flat of her tongue against Sharon’s clit and hears her groan closed mouth. She prods more then, circling around the nub until Sharon is circling her hips above her and grinding against her mouth. Alaska moves her hands to Sharon’s thighs, gives them a squeeze and presses her nose against the groomed hairs. Her breath is cut off and she can feel herself flushing from the effort but she can’t find it in her to stop. The older woman is shaking above her and Alaska sucks hard on her clit. Wetness covers the bottom of Alaska’s face and Sharon whimpers before lifting herself off.

“So good. So, so good doll.” Sharon shifts until they’re both under the sheets and presses a kiss to Alaska’s lips, chin, jaw, cheek. She sighs out through her nose and pulls the girl close to her, nudging her knee between the other’s thighs and holding her head to her chest until Alaska’s breathing matches the beating of her heart.

—

When Alaska wakes, the spot in bed beside her is cold and there’s a dull ache deep in her skull. Sunlight filters in through the large window and Alaska has to squint to look around the room. The cream sheets are glowing pale yellow in the light. They’re soft against her skin where she feels sweaty and gross, and it takes a moment for Alaska to remember where she is. The framed poster for a campy 80s slasher films jerks her memory. Sharon.

She pads out of bed slowly, shifting over to the dresser where she finds last night’s clothes folded up neatly along with a pair of shorts and shirt that Sharon must’ve left out. It’s weird, almost domestic. Most hook ups don’t do this. But then again, most hook ups weren’t older goth women who spend over $100 at dinner without a blink of an eye then fuck Alaska in front of their gigantic window up on the 26th floor of a high class apartment. Alaska squeezes back into her pencil skirt and slips her bralette over her head while making her way out to the rest of the apartment.

There’s a note on the island in the kitchen, atop the granite.

I’m so sorry, I had to run before you woke up! You look gorgeous even in your sleep .. Is that weird to say?

Feel free to shower and help yourself to breakfast and coffee.

I would love to see you again, doll. <3

Sharon Needles

There’s a mug with little ghosts on it beside the note and it’s all too weird and too much. Alaska orders an Uber with the last of her phone battery, adds the number scribbled at the bottom of the paper into her contacts, then tucks the note into the back of her phone case. The doorman downstairs gives her a nod of acknowledgement when she eaves the building and as she got into her Uber she lets out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding.

The rest of the day went by in a haze. Alaska took a cold, cold shower and puttered around her apartment making shitty coffee and a bowl of cereal before going to work. Her afternoon shift was full of fake smiles and frappuccinos and she spilled hot coffee on herself in a distracted haze and cursed, her co-workers giving her concerned glances. It wasn’t her fault. It was purely coincidence how she kept getting distracted whenever she noticed the crows feet on a lady sitting in the corner or the grey-blue eyes of the young girl she was taking an order from.

She texted Sharon when she got home.  

—

The next time they meet up it’s during the day in a nice area downtown. It’s a very Liberal area. Rainbow crosswalk and all. It’s chalked full of vegan restaurants and nice little expensive shops and it’s another area that Alaska would love to be able to walk down on a random afternoon and not feel intimidated, but that’s not quite the case right now.

Alaska’s in a white shirt tucked into a black skater skirt with a flannel, and half her hair is pulled up into two buns. She feels cute. And gay. And she hopes Sharon thinks the same enough to like, hold her hand or something, or finger her in the washroom of some mom-and-pop restaurant. Maybe both. She tries not to think too much about it as her Uber parks just down the road from the diner Sharon told her to meet her at.

The restaurant is small and cute, not to mention far less intimidating from the last place. There’re plants hanging from the ceiling and a large fish tank. It’s earthy and warm. Scanning the room, there’s no sign of Sharon but before she goes and sits down to wait she hears a soft ‘boo!’ from behind her. Alaska flushes at how she jumped in response and Sharon laughs, pulling her into a hug. The booths are made of worn down leather and the floor creaks slightly as they make their way to a seat. She feels far more “in her element” here, yet her chest still feels tight as Sharon sits across from her.

Her hair is soft and curled, but her eyes are dark and blown out and her lips are plump and red. It’s a dramatic look for one o’clock on a Tuesday, but Alaska doesn’t mind. Her black mock neck shirt hugs her body and her pants are tight and match her lips. It’s modern and chic and Alaska feels underdressed. But Sharon’s gaze is smouldering and trails down her body with a smile. It feels oddly familiar. Oddly comforting.

Sharon asks the waiter if they have Pabst in bottles, not on tap, (they do), and Alaska orders a lemonade. The menu is handwritten and cute, with tacky pun names and illustrations. A foot brushes up against Alaska’s and Sharon’s hand is on her arm. She’s humming as she reads, her lips pursed. Her cool eyes are squinted slightly from her lack of glasses and her crows feet crease slightly. It’s endearing, really. Her fingers are tracing the blue veins under the skin and Alaska wonders if she can feel the goosebumps raising, or if she even realizes she’s doing it in the first place. She imagines Sharon can feel the blood pulsing under her skin. A steady rhythm. By the time the waiter comes back to take their order Alaska had barely read the menu and stumbles slightly, ordering a salad. Sharon shoots her a knowing smile, curling her fingers around Alaska’s small wrist.

“So what do you do, exactly?” Sharon raises her eyebrows at the question, letting her thumb rub at Alaska’s arm.

“Well…” She pauses to take a sip of her beer, “To put it simply I work on short films. They’re just independent projects, mostly horror. I’ve always loved the genre and I love creating and I had the money so I said fuck it, got a group together and we’ve been working together since. We have a pretty strong fan base too, fucked up if you ask me.” Sharon laughs, big and booming in the otherwise calm restaurant.

Alaska smiles and asks about her projects. Her eyes light up when she talks and Alaska can see how her cheekbones protrude when she smiles that wide. The older woman talks about horror movies she admires, how growing up the weird goth dyke made her truly admire the villains in films who got revenge on the preps and the jocks. Most other people would be terrified to hear how their date relates to the killers in these films, but with Sharon it makes sense. She throws herself entirely into her work. Throws herself into the scripts and the storyboards and all the inspirations. She’s always hovering around people on set and fucking with lighting and costumes then marathoning films she’s seen before and can probably quote word for word. This woman is intelligent and intense but spooky and stupid and Alaska doesn’t quite know what to make of her.  

They eat, and talk, and Sharon drinks a few more PBR. Alaska steals a fry from Sharon’s plate and dips it in the surprisingly good vegan milkshake Sharon had guilted her into ordering, just because she refused a lemonade refill and that just wasn’t happening in Sharon’s books. The older woman threw another fry at her for Alaska’s amusement. She was like a baby. A cute one, not an annoying crying one. She was one that you just wanted to keep cooing and giggling and happy. They ordered cheesecake to share and Sharon fed it to her across the table, watching as Alaska’s lips pursed around the fork.

When they go to pay, Alaska pulls her wallet out of her purse. Sharon tsks and gives her a warning look to put her wallet away, and Alaska tries to ignore the way heat pools in her stomach.

As they leave, Sharon snakes an arm around Alaska’s waist. It fits there, and Alaska doesn’t mind. Her hand dips into the curve of her small waist and settles on her hip. It’s a warm heaviness and Alaska has to walk a little closer to Sharon due to it.

“Y’know, I didn’t realize I was gay until my senior year of high school maybe.” Alaska looks down at the small ceramic ghost in her hand, thinks that Sharon might like it. Her voice startles Sharon from where she’s standing a few feet away looking at a similar ceramic cat.

“Really? You come across as the loud and proud type. Like head cheerleader that all the bi-curious girls go to behind the bleachers to get their lesbian cherry popped.”

“Okay fair enough. Let me guess, little goth bitch who punched out anyone who tried to cuss you out for being a dyke?” Alaska fires back, putting down the small ghost and patting its head.

“I’ve had my fair share of physical encounters . I’ll admit to that. No shame in punching someone’s teeth in when they disrespect you.” Sharon raises her eyebrows in question to Alaska, “Although it did take half of freshman year before I started fighting back. I don’t eat meat but I’ll use ‘em to nurse a black eye if I have to.”

The older woman laughs but Alaska can’t help but imagine her younger, smaller. 14 year old Sharon nursing her wounds because some asshole thought she was a good target. 14 year old Sharon reapplying black lipstick in an abandoned girls’ washroom. 14 year old Sharon being unapologetically herself despite her entire school seemingly working against her because she was a bit eccentric and queer. 14 year old Sharon going home and watching shitty horror movies as a distraction from the shit she had to deal with. It tugged on Alaska’s heart strings.

From antique shops to run down clubs to vintage boho chic clothing stores, they check them all out. Alaska tries on a dress that looks like it’s made of trash bags and spins, laughing as it floats up around her. Sharon hides behind a shelf in a costume store, popping out with fake teeth and a witch hat on to startle Alaska. Alaska tries on a horse mask at the back of the store, recalling how people in school used to call her horse face . It doesn’t bother her anymore though, and she neighs in the mask before ripping it off and laughing.

“If we ever get into a fight I’ll just buy us animal masks. You can’t be pissed off at someone when you’re a fucking horse and they’re a frog” Sharon shifts through the masks, laughing before pulling on Alaska’s arm back to the front of the store.

The next store they go into is pastel and airy. They sell lingerie and chiffon peignoirs, lace slip dresses and thigh high stockings with matching garters. It’s all out of Alaska’s price range. This isn’t just a store that you go to when going out with friends shopping. She knows this. And she knows Sharon knows this. Sharon walks in like she owns the place, one arm still wrapped around Alaska’s waist like she owns her and the other weaving through fabrics.

“What’s your size, baby?” Sharon presses a kiss to her cheek and Alaska can feel her throat close in.

Her fingers clench into a fist. She’s sweating. Why is she sweating?

“Uh, I’m a 36C. Medium for everything else, I guess.”

Sharon hums and shifts through the isles. The bags on her arm dig into the skin, making it pink and white. Alaska wants to kiss it. Sharon purchased some tacky looking Halloween knick-knacks, and anything Alaska looked at for over ten seconds and seemed interested in. It made her blush when Sharon insisted on buying it. They both drift around the store for a while, brushing off the sleepy looking girl who asked if they needed any help.

Eventually, they end up near the back by the empty changing rooms. Sharon pulls Alaska into one, pulling the pale pink door shut behind her and clicking the lock shut. It’s a roomy area, with a large mirror on the back wall. The two walls are lined with benches and there’s a small circle stool in the corner. Alaska can feel the air heating up. Or maybe it’s just her. Sharon’s hanging things up on the hooks and looking back at Alaska expectantly when minutes pass and she’s still fully dressed.

“Don’t be shy, baby.” Sharon’s voice is soft. Her thighs spill outwards from where she’s sitting on the stool and she crosses her legs, resting her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands.

Alaska sucks in a breath before stripping, gauging her actions based on Sharon’s face. She tries on all the pieces Sharon picked out, ranging from sheer bras and thongs to intricate high wasted panties with matching garters and stockings. She tries on all the robes and slips, lets Sharon run her hands over the silk dawning her thighs. She spins her finger and Alaska turns in each outfit to show how her ass peeks out of the underwear and how her hair runs soft down her back. Sharon’s making soft sounds.

When Alaska gets to the last set, black high waisted fucking crotchless panties with the bra and stockings to match, she feels her face go red hot. It was before, definitely, but this ensemble (if you will) was truly the cherry on top of this fucked up sexually frustrating sundae. She changes slowly, folding the last pieces and putting them back on their hangers on the wall.

“Can you be good for me?” Sharon’s voice comes as a surprise and Alaska nods, spinning around to face the woman.  “Sit down pumpkin. Spread your legs.”

Alaska’s head was spinning. She lowered herself onto the bench slowly and pulled at her knees to spread her legs. Sharon’s gaze was red hot and Alaska squirmed.

“You’re so wet.” Alaska could hear Sharon laugh and she twitched, moving her legs back together slightly. “No baby, you’re being so good. I wanna see you.”

Alaska’s lungs were collapsing. Her insides were burning and she felt so dirty and flustered and they were in a damn changing room . Sharon was fully dressed, legs crossed and lighting a cigarette even though it was against the rules because she just didn’t care. Smoke plumed upwards and she took a long drag, ashing her cigarette against the edge of the stool and turning back to where Alaska was squirming, the air conditioned air hitting her cunt.

“Can you touch yourself for me? I want you to fuck yourself with one finger baby, don’t want you to make too much of a mess.”

Sharon’s voice was so soft yet stern and Alaska wanted to cry. She grazed her index finger over her clit and jerked before tracing around her whole. She was wet. Just from trying on the lingerie and modelling for Sharon. Just being around Sharon. Sharon who had such a domineering energy. Sharon with her hand on the small of her back pressing her forward. Sharon feeding her cheesecake even when she thought she was full. Alaska pressed one finger in and gasped, squeezing her eyes shut to avoid the embarrassment of making eye contact with the other woman.

“Nice and slow, or else the whole store will hear how wet you are right now. Or would you like that? If someone walked back right now and could hear how wet you are, how you’re trying to hold back all your pretty little noises as you put on a show for me.” Sharon to try and relieve the pressure between her own thighs, “Touch your clit for me hun, with your other hand. You’re so good. So pretty”

Alaska gasped with the intensity of it all. Her thumb on her clit and her middle finger pressing up inside of her, shooting stars behind her eyelids. She could feel Sharon watching her, how her eyes were raking up and down her body as she thrust her hips into her own hands. The bench underneath her was probably wet but at this point she couldn’t bring herself to care. The dozy girl working up front could walk in on them, unlock the door from the outside and ask what was taking them so long and Alaska wouldn’t be able to find it in herself to care as long as Sharon wanted her to keep going.

“Sharon, I can’t, I’m gonna-”

“Cum for me baby.” Alaska’s hips shook and she clenched her jaw to try and keep her noises in as she thrust, panting as she came down from her high.

Sharon stood then and sucked Alaska’s wet fingers into her mouth. They left with a pop! and Sharon smiled, letting Alaska change in silence before purchasing everything she picked out and pulling Alaska into an Uber back to her apartment building.

—

School starts up again. Alaska’s in her final year of university. Soon, she’ll have her Bachelor’s Degree in Performing Arts. She’ll be able to move out to LA like she wanted and be successful. She can star in films and put out an album and make it big. She can make her parents proud along with her medical and military brother because she can be successful too! They all thought she wouldn’t make anything of herself. Sure, maybe she’d move out to LA like she’d always dreamed of, but make it big? Nah. Her mom was convinced she was just going to become some drug addicted deviant, but hey, isn’t that the superstar lifestyle anyways?

Alaska’s plans may have changed drastically. As the weeks turned into months, she spent less and less time at her own run down apartment. It wasn’t that she moved in with Sharon, per se, it was just that over time she had ended up moving out of her apartment. Not to mention Sharon had seen one text from her landlord saying that her rent was far overdo and got so worried, telling Alaska to not worry about it because she had it covered. (Which was embarrassing on Alaska’s part, considering any time not spent in a lecture hall was probably spent working, but inflation was a bitch, y’know?). So it’s not like it was some big ordeal when two and a half months into whatever they had, Alaska was staying there most of the time. She just needed a place to stay until she could find somewhere she could actually afford, and Sharon was willing to give her a helping hand! It also helped that Sharon had a tongue that made her see God.

The move in was gradual. Alaska had a healthy collection of clothes and lingerie at Sharon’s apartment, just from previous dates where Sharon insisted she buy everything for Alaska because it just looked so cute on her and she had her own bills to pay, so Sharon would buy. Eventually, a toothbrush showed up in the holder beside Sharon’s. And Alaska’s fancy purple shampoo she splurged on to keep her hair platinum. And a collection of socks and pajamas and other clothes that Alaska would just happen to leave there but never return to her apartment. Of course, since so much of her wardrobe and electronics and chargers and, well, everything, somehow ended up at Sharon’s flat, Alaska spent more and more time there. It was just convenient, that was all.

Alaska’s life was good. Different from where she thought she would be at this point in her life, but good. Violet was hounding her about the “friend” she was staying with, and about how she seemed to have that “post-sex glow” (as she liked to call it) 24-fucking-7, but Violet was a bitch and too nosy for her own good.

She spent her afternoons in the living room of the apartment, practicing lines from a production that was worth quite a hefty amount of her grade. Cerrone was her only spectator. He didn’t throw rotten tomatoes or boo her off of the coffee table stage though, so she takes what she can get. Sometimes Sharon would come home early and watch her, give her pointers and then tell her to stop repeating the same damn lines for the 50th time and put her mouth to good use. It was a good break. Sharon brought up the idea a few times, putting Alaska in some of her short films. It’d be fun! The gorgeous ditzy blonde in a gore-y horror short film? Instant blockbuster! People love cliche shit like that. Plus, Sharon would love to have Alaska on set with her all day.

It was nice, truly. Sharon took them out for dinner or made fancy vegetarian meals. She’d wake Alaska up with her head between her thighs, leaving Alaska to shudder awake in a cool sweat and groaning. There’d be small notes with hearts on them when Sharon would disappear before Alaska got up. Sharon would have an Uber waiting outside Alaska’s Starbucks location when she was done work, and sometimes Sharon would even pop in herself to visit even though Alaska knows she’d rather support local businesses than the industry coffee shop she worked at. Sharon bought her fancy clothes and shoes and lingerie just to see Alaska blush and squirm. Alaska would get all quiet and call Sharon mommy and curl up on the couch beside her, pressing kisses to her neck to distract her from the movie she was watching. Or, she’d get bratty and call her mama , call Sharon on set when she was in the apartment alone touching herself. Life was good.

—

Alaska more or less moving in only proved to show how needy she was. She was worse than a pet, but Sharon only had Cerrone to compare her to so maybe it wasn’t the fairest comparison. They both bit Sharon, though. Alaska would text Sharon while she was on set, something along the lines of noodles i miss you :( when are you going to be hoooome? sharonnnn i need you. mama please with an image attached of Alaska leaning up against the pillows wearing one of Sharon’s old shirts, with the tip of one thumb in her mouth and two fingers from her other hand knuckle deep in her cunt. Sharon would have to call it a day early and rush home, finger fuck Alaska into the couch cushions until she saw stars and called Sharon mommy despite how embarrassed she got after.

Sharon loved it, how open Alaska was becoming with her. She stopped hiding her phone calls with her brother, instead she would saunter around the kitchen and sit herself upon Sharon’s lap while she listened to Cory talk about the girl he met at the gym. Sharon would tickle her thigh, slip a finger into her panties just to feel how wet she already was and circle her clit until Alaska hung up the phone. Alaska would come back from her lectures and talk about her professors and how her auditions went. She’d write her essays on the leather couch while Sharon painted her toenails baby pink, ate her out while they dried and let Alaska drop her notes and pen onto the hardwood. Sharon liked how Alaska was becoming less shy, how she would pout when she didn’t get her way and call Sharon mama in public just to be a brat and start a scene. Alaska would press kisses to her cheek unprompted, would stop shying away when Sharon payed their dinner bill and bought her fancy lingerie and shoes, would let Sharon give her glasses of wine all day and press on her bladder while fingering her until she cried.

Today was no different. Alaska knew Sharon was out talking to some of her “creative partners” about an idea she had, an idea that she had been sketching and writing for hours after Alaska had fallen asleep on the couch beside her, toes tucked between Sharon’s thighs. She knew Sharon was having some sort of creative breakthrough and was busy. But Alaska was in the apartment alone, and Sharon had left before she woke up. So now she was just lonely and sad and her underwear shifted coldly against her.

lasky <3: noodles when will you be home?

noodles <333: I don’t know baby .. The girl I’m at lunch with is a really talented costume and prop designer. Even if she is a bit stand-offish.

lasky <3: but i neeeeeed you :(

Alaska sent a photo. She was in a sheer pink robe Sharon had bought for her. It was flowy and elegant and trailed behind Alaska on the floor when she walked. It made her feel like an old housewife. She wanted a spiral staircase, wanted to stand at the top of it with a glass of champagne in her hand. Underneath it she wore nothing. She was pouty and annoyed and leaning back on the couch pillows, lips parted and pinching a nipple between two fingers.

noodles <333: I’ll be home in an hour .. Picking up some things. Hope you know how spoiled you are. Brat.

lasky <3: :) :) :) <3

When Sharon gets home, her heart nearly beats out of her chest. She’s had her fair number of romances. Mostly with woman her own age, sometimes younger. Some of them even made it past the six month mark in their relationship. There was something about Alaska though that had Sharon’s head spinning. It was like her entire world had shifted by this girl and was spinning backwards on its axis. Backwards and upside-down. And double time. Whatever. Alaska was curled up on the couch, nude except for the robe, with Cerrone in her lap. She was humming softly to herself and her toes were curled into the couch cushions where her legs were folded underneath her. The natural light made her hair and skin glow and it was so soft and right. Long term didn’t usually work with Sharon. The only long term relationships she had were with cocaine and whiskey and fucking Cerrone the cat, who she didn’t even want in the first place. So why did coming back to her apartment daily to Alaska make it feel more like a home than ever before?

“You’re such a brat, you know that, right?” At the sound of Sharon’s voice Cerrone hops off of Alaska, allowing her to get up to greet Sharon.

“Lies, mama. You’re full of lies.” Alaska laughs and presses a kiss to the dimple in Sharon’s chin. “What’d you get me?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know. Go lie down, pumpkin.” Sharon kisses the side of her hair and gives her ass a tap before Alaska nods and heads to the bedroom.

Alaska’s long and full on the bed. Her hips and breasts filled out more after being with Sharon. Sharon took her out for lunch and dinner, fed her cheesecake and other expensive desserts. She always made sure her baby was cared for. Alaska’s hips were soft and propped up with a long pillow, and her breasts were full and heavy against her chest as she breathed deeply, waiting for Sharon.

The rabbit vibrator Sharon comes into the room with is black. It’s not overly long, but the girth makes up for it. Alaska knows Sharon will have to stretch her, start with two fingers just so Alaska can feel the burn then stuff her with three.

“Mommy please…” Alaska draws it out, flutters her eyelashes.

She’s pouty and wet and Sharon kneels beside her on the bed, pulls one of Alaska’s legs up and out to spread her open.

“So wet already baby? Greedy girl.” Alaska screws her eyes shut at the words. “Open your eyes for me sweetheart. Watch mama.”

Sharon slips two fingers inside of the younger girl and Alaska cries, twisting her hips. Her fingers are thick and strong and they fuck Alaska almost mechanically, avoiding her g-spot but scissoring to stretch her open. It burns slightly and Alaska gasps, heat curling in her stomach. She can hear Sharon’s fingers moving in and out of her, can hear when a third one enters. Alaska tries to clench her thighs together but with Sharon between them she’s stuck spread open. She wants to move and squirm, clamp around Sharon’s hand, but Sharon’s got her hip pinned down and is kneeling above Alaska with so much dominance she’s stuck in position with nowhere else to go.

When Alaska’s stretched and dripping, Sharon presses the vibrator inside until it’s snug against both her g-spot and clit. Alaska’s whining high and nasally. Her eyes are dark and her fingers are tugging at the sheets and she’s watching Sharon desperately. It clicks on and she gasps and cries, her hip twitching at the sudden stimulation.

“I should buy you another one of these. A small one that slips into your panties.” Alaska whines and moves her thumb to her mouth, partly to have something to bite and partly to have something to stifle her pathetic cries. “Could turn it on while you’re out picking up dry cleaning. Or while you’re out with mommy’s credit card. Bet you’d love how everyone would watch you as you whined, unable to stop it.”

Alaska gasped as Sharon started moving the vibrator, slowly pressing it in and out of her slightly. It pressed so tightly against where she was the most sensitive and she cried out, thrusting her hips up into the pressure. Heat was curling in her stomach and she could feel her peak building. Her breasts were shaking above her in time with her panting.

“It’s pathetic, really,” Sharon stopped the vibrator, leaving it still and full in Alaska, “how desperate you are for me. Texting me while I’m out, expecting me to drop everything and come get you off like the greedy little slut you are.”

The twitch of Alaska’s thigh and how her eyes almost roll back remind Sharon of just how much she loves it. Being humiliated like that. She loves when Sharon makes fun of how wet she is, how open and soft she is and how she fucks herself on Sharon’s single finger wanting more, how turned on she gets when Sharon buys her expensive lingerie only to rip it off of her later because money isn’t an issue.

She wonders if Alaska could get off on it alone. Just Sharon’s fingers pinching her nipples, fingering her slowly and avoiding the areas she needed the attention so badly. Sharon would comment on how swollen she was, how it was cute that she thrust up and squirmed as if Sharon was actually going to give her what she wanted. She’d bite on Alaska’s nipple, laughing as she flicked the sensitive bud while leaning over the younger girl, still fully clothed. Sharon thinks she could do it. She’d cum untouched and almost instantly recoil, heat exploding in her lower stomach and her cheeks flushing. Sharon would laugh and watch Alaska’s cunt clench and shake before pressing a kiss to her pubic mound.

But for now Alaska was spread and shaking in front of her, thrusting to try and get the toy to touch her and push her over the edge.

“No, no, no, no mama please. That’s not fair.” Alaska’s voice is whiny and pouty, drawing every syllable out, and Sharon can hear her puffing out air through her nose. Tears gather in the corner of Alaska’s eyes.

“Nothing’s ever fair, baby. And you’re gonna take what I give so maybe I’ll let you cum.” Sharon gives Alaska’s thigh a pat once she’s come down from the edge, then turns the vibrator on low.

This time around Alaska yells out brokenly, hips chasing the feeling so hard Sharon has to pin her down with both hands. Her eyes are screwed shut and Sharon can see where tears start leaking from them. Alaska’s mumbling something incoherent and thrashing her head back and forth, digging her fingertips into the pillow under her head. The cycle repeats itself a few more times, bringing Alaska up to the edge and then ripping it from her. She’s become unable to form any words other than please, no, and mommy and it’s like some sick power move on Sharon’s part. How Alaska’s whole world right now revolves around Sharon, and whether or not Sharon’s going to let her cum.

When Sharon turns the vibrator up instead of off and presses it tight up against Alaska, the younger girl cries and pushes off the bed, thighs trying to close around the toy. Her whines are high pitched and she’s gasping. The wet sounds her pussy is making is obscene and Sharon watches her twitch and clench, all wet and shiny.

Sharon pets Alaska’s hair as she comes down, slips the toy out of her and puts it on the nightstand. She kisses around Alaska’s face and tells her she’s beautiful, that she did so good, mommy’s so proud. The bed dips when she leaves for only a second. She gets a glass of water and a cloth to wipe Alaska off, and grabs her sketchbook from where it sits in her purse. She fingers herself hard as Alaska comes back to her senses and licks around her nipple, trailing her airy hands across Sharon’s body.

Softly, Sharon kisses Alaska’s forehead when she’s sure she’s asleep, and pulls out her sketchbook.

#please remember your tags! #sharon needles #alaska thunderfuck #smut #shalaska #rosetintedworld #submission #gonna make em scream #lesbian au #sugar mama sharon #sugar baby alaska