A couple of concepts about Jason that I cant stop thinking about
Part 1 part 2
Cw: mentions of death and implied ptsd
- Changing his identity after being revived to ensure that bruce, alfred or Dick wouldn't figure out he was alive. After he rejoined the Batfamily went back to his birth name.
- Damien having him as "زومبي" in his phone which means the living dead or Zombie (Tysm to that one person that corrected me ilysm😭)
- Him having an unsolved buzzfeed video made about him (a creator on here came up with this and i think about everyday I'll tag them as soon as i find the post) and a conspiracy theory that Bruce faked his death to gain sympathy from the public or that Jason faked his death to escape from the Wayne name.
- Him having wonder woman posters in his room before he died and now having very subtle wonder woman merch
- Having leftover effects from the lazourus pit that appears randomly (like in the gotham knights game)
- Hates that hes known as Bruce and Batman's greatest failure
- Doesn't like cramped dark spaces because it reminds him of when he was dead and buried
- Learned a little arabic and traditional Arab recipes for Damien and gives taliah short and direct updates on Damien like "he's okay."
- Being close with Damien and Barbara out of everyone else
- Despised Tim for replacing him but after they were forced on a mission together they ended up having a heart to heart with each other both apologizing to the other and being more understanding to the other
- Tries to bond with Tim, inviting him on missions, surveilling gotham for any potential threats, or even just to go to the store.
- Memorized everyones Likes and hobbies ( colors, movies, superheros, snacks, foods etc.) Randomly tossing it to them with the excuse of "thought you would like it" or just not saying anything at all walking away as if nothing happened.
- Him having an autopsy scar.
- Him having a poor back and posture (bc of wat happened that night of his death) that bothers him every now and then (i wish this was actually canon guys u dont understand😭😭😭)
- Gets a little flustered when other people asks him about his interests
- Can't flirt. Defintely looked up how to flirt online and was caught by Dick who laughed at him at first but after seeing how embarrased and upset Jason was, immediately stopped and gave him some advice on how to flirt (with a side of dating advice) because he remembers Jason wasn't able to experience certains things like dating/flirting before his death.
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A/n: This was so fun to make 😭 Should I make a part 2 or....? Let me know what you guys think!!!
Pairings: Jean Grey x Reader, Ororo Munroe (Storm) x Reader, Elizabeth Braddock (Captain Britain) x Reader, Alison Blaire (Dazzler) x Reader, Illyana Rasputin (Magik) x Kitty Pryde x Reader, Anna Marie (Rogue) x Reader, Emma Frost x Reader
“It’ll hurt worse if you don’t relax.” Jean looks down at you. You glare back, trying to convey as much malice as you can. It doesn’t work, not surprising considering your compromising position. You’re bound and spread on the old leather couch in the school basement. Your wrists are bound above your head, and your ankles are tied to either side of the couch, keeping you completely exposed to Jean.
“Fuck you.” You spit and struggle against the bonds. Jean merely smiles, and you want to keep glaring but have to look away. She’s completely nude, and it’s incredibly hard to keep eye contact. Your eyes keep wanting to drop down to where she’s stroking her hard cock.
“Well, only because you asked so nicely,” Jean smirks as she kneels down and positions herself between your spread legs. She grips your hip with one hand and uses the other to grip the base of her cock. Jean slides her cocks through your folds, bumping your clit with the head. You flinch, jerking away from the stimulation. “Relax,” Jean commands.
You don’t. Not until she presses against your entrance, pain sears through you, and you do your best to relax and ease the pain. “Oh, there you go.” Jean moans as she sinks into you.
“Too big.” You whimper as she slowly inches in. You look down, seeing where her cock is splitting you open. Her cock is long and thick, bigger than anything you’ve ever taken.
“Shhh.” Jean coos as she finally forces her way all the way inside you. “You’re so tight.” Her balls slap against your, and she breathes heavily. You feel so full, you can see the bulge of her cock through your stomach.
Slowly, Jean eases her way out. “See, you want this, your cunt is clenching me so tight, trying not to let me go.” She pulls out till just the head of her cock is inside you, gives you a tiny moment to get used to the feeling, then slams her hips forward. You gasp at the stretch, pain burning from your cunt.
Jean’s done taking her time; she draws back and slams in again, setting a brutal pace. You try to blink the tears from your eyes, but a few leave tracks down your cheeks. “Oh, poor baby.” Jean mocks, but her fingers are gentle as they wipe away the teardrops. She slows her pace, pauses with her cock buried to the hilt inside you. “You love my cock so much, you’re reduced to tears.”
You shake your head. “No? Don’t you love it? But your pussy is so wet, baby.” She’s right, you’re absolutely soaked, you can feel it dripping down your thighs.
“I hate you.”
“Shut up.” Jean clamps her hand over your mouth. “I know you like it, so shut up and take it.” You whimper as her other hand dips between your body and flicks your clit. She presses against it, rubbing your clit. You lose control of your body, arching into her touch. “See, doesn’t that feel good, baby?”
She toys with your clit as she starts fucking you again and releases your mouth. Slower than before, but she thrusts her hips deep, ensuring her cock hits the deepest part of you every time. Your eyes roll back in your head as her cock hits that perfect spot in you. “Feel goods, huh?” She moans as your cunt clenches around her.
You don’t have the brainpower to deny her again. You can’t deny the pleasure coursing through your body, and you can’t deny your body’s reaction either. The ropes bite into your wrists and ankles as you arch into her. She feels so good. Every brush of her finger on your clit is like electricity.
You moan into her hand, arching up into her body. You try to fight it, not wanting to give her the satisfaction, but your orgasm crashes over you anyway. Your body spasms, half trying to fight, half giving in, but it’s a losing battle. You cum hard on Jean’s cock. Jean groans as your cunt tightens around her, but she fucks you through it. You watch her through hooded eyes as your orgasm fades.
Her chest is flushed with the exertion of fucking you. Her breasts bounce with every thrust, chest heaving. You tug at the restraints, wanting to touch her. “What? You want to touch? No. You know what this is. Today, you’re just a pussy. Something to use. It’s not about you. I let you cum because I was feeling nice, you’re going to return the favor.” She snaps her hips forward into yours, setting a brutal pace.
Jean pushes back her hair, getting the sweaty red locks out of her face. She stares down, hyper-focused on the way your cunt looks stretched open around her. She moans at the sight, and her cock twitches inside you. She slams forward, and you feel her balls pulse against you. “No, please.” You moan.
But you feel the first pulse of Jean's cum inside you anyway. She silences your protests with a quick kiss to your lips. Jean continues grinding against you as her cum spills into you. She collapses, head falling against your shoulder. “So good.” She moans, she finishes as deep into you as she can. Jean weakly humps against you a few more times, and the warm feeling inside you spreads. “Fuck, baby.” She lies against you, catching her breath.
After a moment, she sits up and slowly withdraws her cock. You whimper as she pulls out, your pussy sensitive after her rough treatment. Jean smiles down as the head of her cock pops out of you, leaving a gaping hole. Her cum starts dribbling out of you instantly. “That’s a good start.” Jean stands up and starts getting dressed. “I think you’re going to have a lot of fun today, don’t you? Do you need the bathroom before I go?”
“Fuck off.” That comment makes her smile at you as she crosses to the door.
“Have fun, behave yourself, I want to hear only good things at the end of today,” Jean says, her tone light, but there’s an edge of warning as she tilts her chin down slightly. “Not like last time.” You glare at the back of her head for as long as you can until she pulls the door shut behind her. The lock clicks into place behind her, sealing you in till your first patron arrives.
Jean’s ropes are a little tight for your liking. It hasn’t been long, but your fingertips buzz with the beginning of numbness. It’s useless, but you try to tug your wrists free. It’s a tiny distraction from your situation. There’s nothing to look at in the basement room. There are two doors, one leading to the hall, which is locked, and the other to a small bathroom. The only pieces of furniture are the couch you’re tied to and a table against the wall. The table has all kinds of sex toys on it, so you’ve been trying to keep your eyes away from that. The only thing you can do is wait in anticipation for someone to come. Luckily, you don’t have to wait long.
The lock seems to echo through the room as it clicks open. The air seems colder as she walks in. You stare at the woman, the goddess, as she walks in.
“Hi, gorgeous.” Storm looks you over once, eyes wandering from your fingertips down to your cunt, the latter still dripping yours and Jean’s fluids. “Messy.” Storm tuts and makes her way over to the table. You watch in silence as she carefully removes her clothes, folding them neatly and placing them on an empty spot on the table.
“I have to admit, when Jean told me you were stuck doing community service again, I got very excited. I haven’t had much time to take care of myself.” Ororo turns back towards you, and you tear your eyes away from her cock swinging between her legs. “So, when I heard you were gonna do it for me, I made Jean let me go first. Although” you jump as her fingers brush your swollen pussy lips. “It seems she couldn’t help herself.”
“I’m not doing anything for you.” You try to jerk away from her touch, but her long fingers slip inside you anyway. Ororo watches as she pushes Jean’s cum back inside you.
“Oh, hush.” She pulls her fingers out of you and reaches up, making quick work of the ties around your hands. She unties your ankles and watches as you rub the red lines etched into your skin from the ropes. “Kneel.” She points at the floor beside the couch. With a sigh, you comply, sliding from the couch down to the cold stone floor.
Storm looks over the couch, then picks a dry spot and sits down, spreading her legs. “Come here.” She pats her thigh, gesturing between her legs with a smile. You hesitate for just a moment, but when her smile falters, you slide over, wedging yourself between her legs. You stare at her muscular thigh, avoiding her cock in your peripheral vision. Her cock twitches, already half hard.
“Suck.” Storm wraps her hand around your neck, cupping the back of your head and pulling you closer to her cock.
“No.” You keep your mouth firmly shut, twisted your head in her grip.
“Remember what happened last time you told me no.” Her eyes flash, and you squeeze your thighs together at the thought. “Jean said you were going to be better this time.”
You wish you were braver, but the fear of being in Jean’s angry hands again makes you open your mouth. You let her guide your head to the head of her cock and take the tip into your mouth. You don’t even attempt to take more, just suckle on the head. Her cock thickens and lengthens in your mouth, quickly growing to stand at attention.
“Deeper, gorgeous.” Storm tugs on your head. You push yourself, going further down her shaft. You gag halfway down her length, and Ororo moans as your throat tightens around the head of her cock. “Deeper.” You choke, slapping your hands against her thighs as you struggle for air. “Hands.” Ororo groans. You pull your hands back, placing them on your own thighs instead. She pushes her hips up, trying to get you further down. You’re only a few inches off now, but you’re on the verge of passing out.
“Fuck.” Storm mutters but pulls back, guiding you off her cock. You cough, a trail of saliva and her precum connecting your mouth to her. “You took more this time, Jean’s throat training you well. All the way down, now.”
“I can’t.” Your voice is hoarse.
“It is your job to please me.” She taps the head of her cock against your lips. “Open.” You open your mouth, letting her stuff her cock back in your mouth. She thrusts her hips up, fucking deep into your throat. She moans in pleasure as you gag on her. “Relax your throat.” You relax as best you can, opening your jaw wide to take her deeper.
“So warm.” Storm grunts and her cock twitches in your mouth. You’re still not at the base, but you stick your tongue out, trying to make up for it. You drag your tongue up and down the underside of her shaft as she thrusts in and out of your mouth. “Just like that.”
You breathe through your nose as best you can, but you still gag every time she thrusts into your throat. Your mouth is filled with her salty taste, and a mix of her precum and your drool drips down onto her heavy balls. “Hands.” Storm snaps. Somehow, your hands had found their way onto her thighs again. You yank them away, pulling them back. She shoots you a look, a warning that she won’t ask again. You grab your own wrist behind your back to keep them in place.
Without warning, she slams her hips up, burying her cock to the hilt in your throat. You choke, throat spasming around her. The extra stimulation is just enough to send Ororo over the edge. Your tongue is still out, so you feel her balls twitch against the muscle as she starts to cum. It’s the only warning you get before the first shot of her cum lands in your throat.
She holds you in place, keeping your nose buried in her small patch of white pubes. “Don’t swallow yet.” She commands, and you gag more, struggling to keep the endless flow of her thick cum in your mouth. You sputter, sending cum spilling out the sides of your mouth. “Don’t spit it out.” Storm sighs and yanks her cock out. “Open. Tongue out.”
She jerks herself off over you, shooting a few more ropes of cum into your mouth and across your face. Her strokes slow until she stops. Storm takes in the sight of you, mouth still full of her cum and face covered. “Swallow.” She watches as your throat bobs, once, twice, three times, to get all her cum into your stomach. You run your tongue over your teeth, the slimy taste still in your mouth.
“You’ve improved.” Storm pats your head. “Clean me off.” You quickly take her back in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down a few times. You swallow the excess spit and cum left on her cock before letting it fall out of your mouth. “Good.” You watch it fall between her legs, slowly softening.
Ororo catches her breath, then stands. She works in silence as she redresses. It’s not until she’s replaced all her clothes that she turns back to you. “Do I need to tie you back up?”
“No.” You fold your arms over your chest.
“Water on the table,” Ororo says, taking one last look at you before she turns to leave. “I look forward to the next time.” You go to the table, grab one of the bottles, and bring it back to the couch with you. Nothing to do but wait for your next visitor.
Storm hasn’t been gone for even 10 minutes when the door unlocks and swings open again. “Hi, Angel.” Purple hair sways as Betsy turns to shut the door behind her.
“Hi.” You sit up, staring at her as she walks right past you and makes her way to the table.
“You cum yet today?” She asks, not even turning to look at you as she removes her pants and tosses them on the table, then examines her toy options. She doesn’t waste time taking her shirt off, leaving the loose-fitting t-shirt on.
“Once with Jean.” You stare at her ass as she makes a choice, turning back around with a vibrator. You quickly look back up, blushing when she catches you staring.
“Sensitive?” She muses.
“A little.” You’re still sensitive from Jean’s rough fucking earlier, but it's faded slightly. At least Ororo hadn’t decided to fuck you, too.
“Scoot.” She nudges you with her knee, and you scoot over on the couch, letting her take your spot. Her cock is already hard, sticking up between her legs. She’s a good size, not big like Jean or Storm, but still gives you a good, full feeling when she’s fucking you and girthy enough to give you a pleasurable stretch. “Sit on my cock, Angel.”
You quickly straddle her bare thighs. You’re easy to obey with Betsy; she’s one of the few ‘patrons’ you’ve never had problems with. She grips the base of her cock, helping you line it up with your entrance, paying no mind to the half-dried cum between your legs. You both groan as you sink down on her. You shiver as you reach the base of her cock, your hips pressing flush against her.
You moan, enjoying the feeling of her cock filling you up perfectly. You make to ride her, but she grips your hips, halting the movement effort. “Just sit. Keep my cock warm.” Betsy orders. “Here.” She adjusts, leaning forward and pulling your legs to hook around her waist. You wrap your legs around her, as comfortably as you can.
“Good, now just sit and stay.” She pulls you close, arms around your body. Purple hair drapes over you as she rests her chin on your shoulder. You resist the urge to shift on her cock as the sound of her tapping on her phone fills the room. She feels good inside you, but you need more.
You last a few minutes before you open your mouth to ask. “Can I have the vibrator?”
“Needy.” Betsy chides but shifts to holding her phone with one hand and uses the other to slip between you and press a vibrator to your clit. “Better?” You moan at the stimulation. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
Wetness drips down onto her thighs as you lightly roll your hips into her. Betsy doesn’t stop you. You can still hear her tapping on her phone. You last a few minutes before an orgasm builds in your abdomen. “I’m gonna cum.”
“Go ahead.” Betsy doesn’t even move, just continues holding the vibrator and letting you grind into her. You moan loudly as you cum on her cock. You gush around her cock, arousal soaking her thighs. “Making a mess,” Betsy mumbles, but she’s not going to complain too much. Your orgasm makes your cunt squeeze around her.
You moan softly, weakly grinding into her as your orgasm fades. The aftershocks make you shiver as the vibrations on your clit continue. “Too sensitive.” You try to squirm away, but Betsy’s nails bite into your hip, and she keeps the vibrator firmly pressed against you. At least she finally put her phone down.
“Hold still,” Betsy mutters. You whine but hold still as best you can, trying to resist the urge to squirm away from the sensation. She doesn’t let you grind this time; she holds your hips still, but the need to cum builds again anyway. “I can feel you clenching. You’re gonna cum again. Go ahead.”
You spasm in her lap. It’s too much immediately, and you try to lift up, but she holds you firm. “That’s right.” Betsy moans. “So tight.” She starts thrusting her hips up, prolonging your pleasure. You fall limp against her as she fucks up into you. Thankfully, she pulls the vibrator away but keeps fucking you. She groans, essentially using you as a fleshlight as she thrusts deep into your pussy.
“Ride me.” She grunts. You start using your hips, bouncing up and down to meet her thrusts. Your hips slap together, meeting in the middle. “Good slut.” The mix of praise and degradation makes your face flame.
“I’m not a slut.” You protest weakly.
“Yet you’re riding my cock like a bitch in heat.” She grabs your hips with both hands, nails biting into your skin. “I want you to admit it. If you want my cum, say you’re a slut.”
You bite your lip, not wanting to give in, but you know it’s your job to make her cum. After a brief hesitation, you mumble. “I’m a slut.”
“Louder.” Betsy slaps your ass and thrusts harder.
“I’m a slut.” You say more clearly.
“Louder.”
“I’m a slut.” You shout, face burning with humiliation.
“That’s right.” Betsy groans, and her cock twitches inside you. “Now, ride the cum out of my cock.” You comply, eagerly riding her. “Such a good slut.”
“Mhm.” You bite your lip, stifling a whimper. “Cum in me.”
Betsy moans deeply, head falling back as she cums. Her hips jerk erratically up into you as she spills inside you. The warm feeling of her cum makes you groan. Betsy keeps thrusting as rope after rope of her cum flows deep inside you. As her thrusts get weaker, you sink down, sheathing her fully inside you.
Psylocke sighs, tilting her head back up to look at you. “You’re getting better.”
“That’s what Ororo said.” You flush under the genuine praise.
She takes a moment more before she releases your hips, and you lift off her deflating cock. Her cum drips slowly out of you as you slide onto the floor.
“Thanks, Angel.” Betsy gives you a soft kiss on the forehead as she stands up, not on the lips - one of Jean’s rules. You watch in silence as she puts the vibrator back on the table and puts her pants back on. She looks back as she turns to leave. “See you next time.” She disappears into the hall, pulling the door shut and clicking the lock behind her.
You stare at the toys on the table. The last hour has stretched on. Your first few visitors came in quick succession, but now you’ve been left alone for a long time. The boredom is getting to you. You try to imagine some kind of game you can play with the objects- last time you had used a spanking paddle to bounce a vibrator in the air as many times as you could. You got to 46 before you missed, and the vibrator broke. Jean had then used the paddle to spank you until you couldn’t sit right for a week.
“Anything you want to try?” You jump at the voice. You hadn’t even heard the door open, but when you spin, she’s standing there. “Hey, Honey.”
“Hi, Ali.” You step away from the table, a tiny bit of shyness coursing through you at the sight of the blonde woman. Dazzler smiles at your flushed cheeks and gives your body a once-over. She’s not one of your usual patrons- only visiting once or twice before. She’s not rough like some of the others. And the idea of sleeping with her isn’t unappealing; she’s very attractive and confident, and you feel your arousal increase at the thought of her using you.
“Well?” Dazzler moves to stand beside you and looks over the table with you.
“I don’t know.” You shrug. You’re not entirely worn out yet, but you’re still sensitive between your legs. None of the toys really make you excited.
“That’s okay, I just want your tongue today.” Allison carefully removes her clothes, enjoying the way you watch every button and zipper come undone. She lays her clothes neatly on the table and then turns back to you. You stare at her cock. It’s a little smaller than Psylocke’s. When she turns to the couch, you get to watch her ass as she walks away from you. She sighs as she lies facedown on the couch and props her head up to look at you.
For a moment, you’re confused. If she wants a blowjob, her position makes no sense, but then she speaks again. “Lick my ass.” Dazzler requests. Oh.
You’ve only done that a couple of times before, but you’re not about to say no. You climb on the couch between her thighs, you have to hang your legs over the edge in a not very comfortable position, but you don’t complain. Instead, you palm her ass, groping the soft flesh. You spread her cheeks apart and dive in. You lick over her puckered hole. Dazzler sighs, folding her arms as a pillow for herself and lying her head down.
You try to remember the best way to eat her ass, trying a few different tongue exercises. After a couple of tries, you find the way to wiggle your tongue in a way that makes her groan the loudest. You repeat the motion, noticing the way her cock is leaking onto the couch. You lower your head, licking from her taint to her hole. Dazzler moans sweetly, so you do it again before refocusing on her hole.
You sloppily tongue her ass, adding to the drool between her cheeks. “Fuck, I forgot how good this feels.” Dazzler moans and pushes her hips back, burying your face further in her ass. “I have an idea, sit up.”
You sit back, resting on your knees, as Allison sits up and makes room for you. “Lie down.” You shift, lying flat on your back on the couch. She wastes no time, straddling your face. She faces you, cock resting on your face as she smothers you with her ass. You kiss and lick over her, making out with her rim.
Her balls rest over your nose as she lazily strokes herself off over your face. It makes it a little difficult to breathe, but you try to focus on pleasing her to make her finish faster. Dazzler moans and subtly humps your face, grinding against your tongue in a way that brings her the most pleasure.
“You’re so good at this.” She praises in a soft, breathy moan. You’re not even really doing anything at this point, just sticking your tongue out as Dazzler grinds down against it. You hook your hands around her thighs, nails biting into her soft skin. She moans and picks herself up off you. She shifts back, positioning her cock at your lips, “open.”
The salty taste of her precum lands on your tongue as she slides into your waiting mouth. She moans as you close your lips, engulfing her cock in your warm mouth. You suck gently as she humps into your mouth. It’s nowhere near as difficult to throat her as it is Storm, so you easily take all her length into your mouth.
She buries herself in your throat, moaning as you move your tongue on the underside of her cock. “So good.” Dazzler moans, and you feel her twitch in your mouth. She humps into your face faster, chasing her release. “I want you to swallow it, Honey.” She groans and buries your nose in your crotch.
You gag at the first spurt of her cum in your mouth, but obediently swallow it down. Dazzler pants as she humps into your mouth, spilling the rest of her salty cum into your mouth. You swallow the thick fluid, adding to the cum already resting in your stomach. She grinds her hips, spraying a few more drops of fluid on your tongue before drawing back.
You suck as she pulls her cock out, collecting her cum and your drool as you’ve been taught to. Her cock leaves your lips with a wet pop, and she falls back, lying with her head on the other side of the couch, but still half on top of you.
“You’re really good at that.” She breathes heavily before taking a minute to catch her breath. “Better than I remember.” Dazzler pats your leg as she stands up. “Might start visiting you more frequently.” You shiver at the offer; truthfully, you wouldn’t mind more visits from her. She’s far nicer than some of your visitors. She gets dressed quickly and turns to leave. You get a quick smile over her shoulder, then a flash of blonde hair, and she’s gone, leaving you alone again.
“Ready to get stuffed, babe?” Illyana slams the door open. You suppress an eye roll. This was not one of your favorite patrons. The only thing worse than Illyana alone is Illyana and Kitty together. As if summoned by the thought of her name, Kitty Pryde walks through the door after Illyana, their hands intertwined.
“Get on your knees.” Illyana points at the floor, and you slide off the couch begrudgingly. “What do you want to do first, my love?” Illyana’s tone when talking to her girlfriend is completely different than the tone she used with you.
“Handcuffs?” Kitty tugs Illyana over to the table, and they look over the toys together. “Oo and the gag.” She picks up the pair of black leather handcuffs and the matching ballgag. “Pick out something for yourself.” She releases Illyana’s hand and makes her way over to you on the couch. “Open.” She singsongs and presses the ball into your mouth, fastening the straps tight around your head.
“Hands behind your back.” Kitty grabs your arm, pulling you up and spinning you around. You comply, placing your hands behind your back. Kitty herself is alright, but you would never say no to her with Illyana in the room. “Nice and tight.” She ensures the cuffs are tight around your wrists, but don’t cut off circulation.
With Kitty behind you, you turn your attention back to Illyana at the toy table. You bite the gag in your mouth as you see her examining the flogger. “Have we used this one?” She calls over her shoulder to Kitty.
“Don’t think so,” Kitty says as one arm snakes around your waist. You jump as her fingers drag through your soaked folds. “Lots of cum between these legs.”
“Slut.” Illyana mutters as she walks back over to you, flogger in hand. You growl around the gag in your mouth- like you had any choice in the cum being inside you. “What? Don’t agree.” Illyana tuts and Kitty moves her hand, reading her partner's mind. Without warning, Illyana slaps the bands of the flogger against your cunt. You cry out around the gag, knees buckling.
Thankfully, Kitty wraps her arms around you, holding you up. Unfortunately, that also means you can’t squirm away as Illyana rubs the tails of the flogger against your burning cunt. “See, you’re soaking.” Illyana strikes you with the flogger again, getting a direct hit to your clit.
You sob, tears streaming down your cheeks. Illyana draws the flogger back and examines your red, swollen pussy. “Feels good, huh.” Kitty purrs in your ear as she dips her fingers back into the mess between your legs. She presses her finger against your aching clit, and it sends a flare of pain through you.
“Mmfm.” You plead uselessly.
“Take that as a yes.” Illyana smirks. When Kitty’s hand moves, you know another strike is coming, and instinct makes you kick out. You throw your leg up, trying to knock the flogger out of her hand. With horrible luck, you miss. With even worse luck, you hit her right in the gut. She gasps, more in shock than pain. Her retaliation is swift and painful. Her fist lands hard against your jaw.
Kitty doesn’t support you this time; she lets you fall to the ground. The last place you want to be as you see Illyana’s boot come towards your face. Her toe catches you under the jaw, sending your head snapping back, and your cheek smashes against the floor. The gag keeps you from biting your tongue at least, but your lip tears against the stone floor.
You wrap your arms over your head, cowering in fear at their feet. If you could apologize, you would; instead, you cry hot tears into the ground. “Get the spreader bar,” Kitty murmurs, and you hear Illyana step away. Kitty’s presence comes closer as she kneels down beside you. She’s gentle as she pulls your arms away from your face. “Why would you do that?”
“Mfm.” You give her your best puppy eyes, pleading for mercy through the gag.
“Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.” She cups your jaw, examining the cut on your lip. You’re so distracted, you don’t notice Illyana has returned until you feel her harsh grip around your ankle. You can’t help but fight at this point; whatever they have planned won’t be good. You don’t want the spreader bar holding you open for them.
“Stop.” Illyana slaps your thigh as you struggle.
Kitty’s grip on your jaw tightens, commanding your attention. “Don’t make me get Jean.” That makes you freeze. Illyana takes the opportunity to quickly fasten your ankles to the bar. Jean has only had to interrupt a session once before, and she made very sure you would never want that to happen again.
Illyana widens the bar, forcing your legs open. You see the flogger in her hand, but still don’t have time to react before she wings it again. You thrash on the floor as fresh pain blooms from your pussy. “Hold still.” Illyana snaps and swings the weapon again. You dig your heels into the ground and push away; the stone floor scrapes your back, but you slide away anyway.
Your head bumps the couch, stopping your escape. Illyana huffs and smacks your thigh with the flogger. A bright red welt appears on the flesh, and you wail. She wastes no time smacking the other thigh, giving you matching red stripes. Then she returns her attention to your pussy, planting a series of sharp smacks to the sensitive flesh.
Kitty cradles your face, occasionally reprimanding your attempts to squirm away as Illyana continues spanking your core. When she finally relents, you’re a wreck. You can hardly move without pain blossoming from between your legs. Your face is soaked in drool and tears. Your pussy throbs and pain sears as Illyana’s fingers spread your lips open.
“A little pink.” She smirks at Kitty, the flesh on both your thighs and all through between them is burning a bright, hot red. She licks her lips, drops the flogger, then dives between your legs. You scream as her tongue swipes over your irritated flesh. Your clit is throbbing, and when Illyana sucks it into her mouth, you try to jerk away.
Between her nails in your hips and the bar between your legs, you can’t get away from her tongue. “So, sexy.” Kitty hungrily watches as her girlfriend eats you out. She tugs her waistband down, freeing her cock, and starts stroking off above your head.
You whimper as Illyana brings you close to orgasm. You can feel the tightness in your belly, and you shake your head, pleading around the gag. “Oh, you’re gonna cum aren’t you?” Kitty coos mockingly down at you. “Go ahead.”
You sob as Illyana makes you cum. It hurts, your sensitive clit throbbing as her tongue toys with it. You gush into her mouth, cunt painfully clenching around nothing. Kitty wipes your tears with one hand, her other hand still stroking her throbbing cock. When you settle to trembling from aftershocks, Illyana pulls away and quickly slides up.
She shoves her waistband down, freeing her cock, and shoves it inside you. She’s of average size, and she slides all the way in, making you cry as her hips press against your bruised flesh. Illyana makes no note of your pain and discomfort, just starts fucking you hard into the stone floor.
Kitty shifts to rubbing her cock on your face. When you try to turn away, she grabs either side of your jaw and continues dragging her cock over the length of your face. It can’t even feel that good, but it’s more about degrading you than her own pleasure at the moment.
“Hot.” Illyana grunts, watching the sight, and her cock twitches inside you. “Gonna make me cum, beautiful." She’s not talking to you; her eyes are entirely focused on Kitty. “Fuck. Take it whore.” Illyana grunts. That one was for you. She moans and buries her cock inside you as she starts to cum. Her balls pulse against your ass as she spills in your cunt. Shot after shot of her cum fires into you as her hips jerk against yours. After her cock stops twitching, she pulls out slowly, watching her cum drip out of you.
“My turn.” Kitty jumps over you, eager to get inside you. Illyana scoots over, letting her girlfriend shove her cock inside you. You wince as the pain flares again. Kitty moans as she fucks you, Illyana’s cum smearing over her cock. “I love your sloppy seconds.” Kitty groans and kisses Illyana.
They make out sloppily, tongues swirling together as Kitty cums. She moans into Illyana’s mouth as her balls empty into you. Her cock twitches wildly, adding her cum to the buckets already inside you. After a messy kiss, Kitty pulls away and humps into you one last time before pulling her cock out. She wipes her cock off, and they both watch as their fresh cum spills out of your red cunt.
“Lovely.” Illyana kisses Kitty’s cheek and helps her stand up.
“Should we-” Kitty gestures to you, still gagged, hands bound behind your back, and legs spread wide by the bar between your ankles.
“Leave it.” Illyana waves her hand at you, still amused by how red your cunt is. “Maybe it’ll teach a lesson, huh.” She raises her eyebrows at you, then looks away. They don’t spare you another glance as they replace the flogger to its spot and leave the room. You wiggle fruitlessly on the ground, completely trapped. After a brief moment of struggle, you give up, lying limp on the floor. You can’t do anything until someone else comes through the door and hopefully takes pity on you.
You lift your head up as the door opens, hoping that someone has come to free you. Your shoulders are aching from your hands being trapped behind you, and the throbbing from your cunt has barely faded. You would kill for an ice pack between your legs. The hope fizzles as you catch a flash of red hair. Fuck.
Jean pulls the door shut behind her and turns to look at you. She raises her eyebrows at your position. “I don’t like having to come here during the middle of the day.” She frowns as she crosses the room and squats down beside your head. You lift your head as she reaches behind it to unfasten the gag. “You kicked her.” She states it like a question, but she’s not asking.
“It was an accident.” You sob as she cups your jaw, thumb brushing over your split lip. “Everyone else said I did really well.” You whimper, hoping your good behavior will balance your bad.
She hums and leans down, pressing her lips to yours. It aches a bit, her plump lips pressing to your bruised ones. She deepens the kiss, tongue swiping over yours. Jean moans at the taste of your blood. You kiss back weakly, letting her dominate your mouth and take what she wants. It seems like she has no intention of pulling away until a knock on the door makes her lean back. “Come in.” She calls, and a millisecond later, the door unlocks and swings open.
“Hey, sweetness.” Rogue looks down at you, pity on her face.
“Hey, Rogue.” Jean thankfully leans down and unfastens your ankles from the spreader bar. It’s relieving to be able to shift your legs, closing them together. She doesn’t release your hands, leaving them bound behind your back. “Come here.” Jean helps you stand on shaky legs, hooking one arm around your waist to hold you up. You’re incredibly thankful for the support; you wouldn’t be able to stand without it. Your legs feel weak, and standing makes the pain between your legs flare.
“On the couch then?” Rogue takes her shirt, revealing a black sports bra, and then shoves her pants and underwear down, letting her cock free. She’s only half hard, but already bigger than every other cock you’ve seen today. She starts stroking herself slowly, her huge cock thickening and lengthening even further.
She keeps stroking herself as she takes a seat on the couch, stretching her legs out. “Sit on her cock, back to me.” Jean barks the instructions at you, but then assists you to the couch, helping you get your legs up to straddle Rogue’s lap. Rogue’s hand circles your back, replacing Jean’s to steady you.
She grips the base of her cock with her other hand and positions it at your entrance. Rogue guides you down, letting her thick cock stretch you open. The still-warm cum of Illyana and Kitty acts as a nice lube, but it still makes you throb as you sink down on her cock. You let your head fall against Rogue’s shoulder, whimpering softly against her skin. You lean forward, unable to steady yourself with your hands bound behind your back.
“All the way.” Jeans nails bite into your shoulders, and she pushes you the rest of the way down. You sob, tears dropping onto Rogue’s shoulder as Jean forces you to bury her cock inside you. You feel entirely too sensitive for more sex at this point, but your feelings aren’t being taken into consideration at the moment.
“That’s good, sweetness.” Rogue sighs as the head of her cock presses against your cervix. She wraps her arms around your waist, holding you in place on her lap. “Just sit still.” Rogue leans against the back of the couch and shuts her eyes.
“What?” You desperately want to move off her cock, stretching you out, but her arms are tight around you, keeping you in place.
“I thought,” Jean runs her fingertips over your shoulders, “having a big cock stuffed inside you for an hour or two would help remind you of your purpose.” You whimper at the thought of sitting on Rogue like this for two hours. “Now hold still, I’m gonna prep your ass.”
Fuck. You had been hoping that when she hadn’t done it earlier, it meant there wouldn’t be any anal play today, but apparently, she’s decided to open it up. You don’t know if it’s just because or if it’s a punishment for your behavior with Illyana and Kitty.
Jean’s hands disappear from your shoulders. You hear her move across the room and try not to tense in apprehension as a bottle of lube snaps open behind you. It doesn’t stop you from jumping as her cold finger presses against your butt. You wince as her long finger slides inside your tight hole.
She slowly twists it in and out. “Feels good, huh?” Jean coos and presses a second finger inside you. You bite your lip, stifling a whine at the added stretch. She curls her fingers pressing against Rogue’s cock through your inner walls. Rogue grunts softly at the stimulation, Jean’s ministrations making you feel tighter for her benefit.
“Mm.” You bite your lip as Jean pushes a third finger inside you. The stretch isn’t too painful compared to your cunt, but it’s uncomfortable as she buries three fingers knuckle deep inside you. She spreads her fingers, stretching you open wider.
“There we go.” Jean praises, and her fingers slide out of you. You get a moment of reprieve before the head of something thicker pushes against you. You and Rogue both groan as the plug slides into you. You pant, breath hot on Rogue’s shoulder as the plug settles inside you. “Good.” Jean slaps your ass as she stands up.
“Now.” Jean’s hand hooks underneath your jaw, and she yanks your head back. You look up at her, head back at an awkward angle. “I expect you to be on your best behavior for the rest of the day.” She narrows her eyes.
“Yes, Ma’am.” You nod in agreement.
“Good.” She rewards you with a soft kiss on the lips. “Be good for Rogue.” She releases your chin, letting your head drop back against Rogue’s shoulder. You hear her set the lube back on the table, and then she leaves, locking the door behind her. It’s not the most comfortable with your hands stuck behind your back and Rogue’s cock still buried in your pussy, but you’re exhausted and manage to settle into Rogue enough to calm down.
Rogue falls asleep. You have no idea how. You can’t seem to sit still, and every shift makes her dick move inside you. After a while, you become accustomed to the stretch of her thick cock, but any movement still makes you flinch. The minutes stretch on and on, Jean said one to two hours, but there’s no way you would last that long.
But you can’t move. Jean told you not to. You can’t until you’re given permission, but Rogue is asleep. You’re not sure how she would react to being woken up. She seems so peaceful with her cock buried deep inside you. You try shifting a little rougher, earning a grunt from the woman underneath you.
“Oh, sweetie.” Rogue grabs your hips, making you freeze. “Do you need somethin’?”
“Can I move?” You ask softly.
“Yeah, up and down, sweetheart.” Rogue grips your hips, guiding you to lift up. You whimper softly as you slide up her cock, then she pulls you back down. Rogue sets the pace, having you ride her slowly. “Feel good?”
You nod. Your cunt is still sore, but the gentle pace is nice, and the buttplug rubs against Rogue’s cock through your inner walls, adding extra nice stimulation. Rogue hums and shifts one hand closer to your inner thigh. She stretches her thumb out, brushing against your clit. You jerk away.
“Sensitive. You’re all red and puffy.” Rogue chuckles. “It’ll feel good.” It doesn’t, but she stops you from squirming away with a firm grip. Her thumb rubs your clit up and down as you ride her. “Your poor pussy has taken a beating today, huh?”
“Mhm.” You whimper and nod. “Hurts.” Rogue nods, expression sympathetic, but her thumb keeps rubbing your clit. Despite the pain, she still brings you to orgasm fast. You can’t decide if you want to squirm away or into Rogue’s touch, but your hips move with a mind of their own, grinding against her thumb.
“Just like that.” Rogue coos as you cum on her cock. You writhe and moan as your orgasm crashes over you. Rogue thrusts her hips up into you, making the pleasure and pain more intense. Your body gives out, and you collapse on her, weakly trembling, the only movement you can make. Rogue holds your waist, fucking up into you like you’re nothing more than a fleshlight.
“Hold on.” Rogue grunts and lifts you up, supporting your neck and back as she repositions you. She lowers you carefully back down on the couch, her cock never leaving you. “Just like that.” The movement makes the plug shift inside you, and you whimper softly. Rogue lets you lie limp on the couch as she keeps fucking into you. Her pace is bruising, and you just know your cervix will be painfully bruised tomorrow, but you can’t find it in you to care.
You let your eyes drift shut, giving in to the sensation. You give up, one leg falling off the couch as Rogue pounds between your legs.
“So tight.” Rogue moans and slams her hips forward, her balls slapping against your ass as she starts to cum. She rocks her hips into you as her cum shoots inside of you. It seems endless, the torrent of warm fluid flowing into you. You shiver in pleasure at the feeling, cunt involuntarily clenching around her, milking her for every drop of cum.
“Fuck.” Rogue sighs and slowly draws her cock out, cum instantly leaking out of you onto the couch. She sits up on the couch, hand resting heavy on your thigh. She catches her breath for a moment, then stands up, patting your leg. “You’re so sweet.” You can’t even thank her for the praise- just lie there limp on the couch. You hear her shuffling around the room, pulling her pants back up, and flicking the light off for you. The last thing you hear before passing out is the sound of the lock clicking back into place.
The soft poke of something in your calf wakes you. You’re still stretched out on the couch, your body aches when you try to move, and the muscles in your hips feel too weak to move your legs. You settle for lifting your head up to look at the intrusion to your slumber. A sharp white heel points into your leg. Your eyes trail up long legs to the woman sitting on the armrest of the couch opposite your head. Your eyes flutter back shut as Emma stares at you. “Too tired.” You mumble. Emma is not something you can physically deal with right now.
“Hush now, Darling.” Emma’s heel digs sharper into your calf. “Why don’t you bend over the arm of the couch for me?” It’s phrased like a question, but her tone flattens in a way that means she’s not asking. You grunt in response but manage to force your eyes back open. You’d only disobeyed Emma once before, and she hadn’t even bothered to get Jean. No- what she did was much worse.
She forced her way into your mind and forced your arousal to a state of unbearable. Emma had then made you forget how to move and ignored you while you laid on the floor and cried for her. She then, of course, had made you orgasm repeatedly until you passed out.
The memories of her psychic torture are enough to force your body to move, although it’s shaky and slow. You manage to roll over and crawl forward on your arms. You rest your forearms on the arm of the couch, dropping your head against them and arching your back for her.
“So obedient. You’ve finally learned how to behave yourself.” You try to tune her out, but she keeps talking as she moves around and starts positioning herself. “Jean’s training was much slower than I would have liked, but it worked in the end, I suppose.” You can hear her removing her eccentric pieces of clothing, but you manage to almost doze off until the couch dips behind you.
Her cock is already hard. She rubs it against your ass, letting you feel the weight of it. “Oh, and Jean got you nice and ready, huh?” You open your mouth to ask what she means, but are cut off with a gasp as she presses a finger against the plug, nudging it deeper into your ass.
“No.” You gasp as she hooks her fingers at the edges and pulls, slowly tugging it out. She pauses as the thickest part stretches you open. Emma pushes the plug a little way back in, then pulls back, making you moan. She toys with you for a few moments before growing bored and removing the plug from you entirely.
You hear the snap of a bottle of lube opening. At least she’s feeling generous. “Generous, ha.” Emma deadpans. “Dry anal wouldn’t be enjoyable for either of us.” You highly doubt it’s going to be enjoyable for you either way, but at least this way, less pain is involved. You do not appreciate her intrusion into your thoughts. At least Jean is more subtle about it.
“Quit your whining,” Emma mumbles. You jump as the head of her cock presses against your stretched hole. Her shaft is slick with lube, and when she pushes, the first inch slides into your ass easily. After that, however, it’s much more difficult. Emma pushes her thick cock deeper and deeper, ignoring your grunts of pain and tremors. The stretch causes tears to spring to your eyes when Emma finally bottoms out, balls resting against your pussy.
She doesn’t wait a moment to let you get accustomed to the stretch. Emma draws her cock out till just the head is nestled inside you, then slams back in. You bite your lip, stifling a whimper. She repeats the process, thrusts hard but slow. She moans softly as she fucks your ass. “So tight, darling. I hate sloppy seconds, so I’m glad I'm the first to use this hole today.”
You pant, ignoring her words to try to focus on keeping your muscles relaxed around her. “Hmm, that won’t do.” Emma tuts and her thrusts pause as one hand circles your waist. You cry out as her fingers brush your clit. Any stimulation at this point is too much to handle, and you writhe helplessly, trying to get away from her fingers. “None of that now. Don’t you want to feel good?”
“Too much.” You mewl and dig your nails into the coach arm. “Just cum already.”
“But that’s no fun. Getting to torture you is part of the experience.” Her other hand curls around the bottom of your neck. Emma squeezes softly, just reminding you she could choke you if you wanted to. “Besides, doesn’t my cock feel good?”
It doesn’t feel horrible. You’re at least more used to the feeling now; your ass has become accustomed to the stretch of her cock. “See.” Emma coos and draws her hips back before snapping them forward again. This time, you can’t help but moan at the feeling of her stuffing your ass full again. You involuntarily jerk your hips forward, grinding against her hand.
“Ah ah.” Emma tuts. “My pace.” You whine, but try to hold still as she fucks your ass. Her fingers rub quick circles on your clit. That, combined with the new sensation of her cock in your ass, works you up to the edge of orgasm quickly.
“No.” You moan.
“What?” Emma grunts, voice slipping from her usually carefully chosen words as she’s lost in her own pleasure. “Don’t want to cum? Too bad. I want to feel you squeeze my cock.”
“No.” You sob again, knowing another orgasm would wreck your sensitive body at this point in the day.
“Yes.” Emma hisses and quickens her pace, her hips slapping against yours brutally. The sounds of wet skin slapping together fill the small room, alongside the sound of Emma’s cock sliding in your asshole. Your stomach tightens, teetering on the edge of orgasm. “Cum for me, darling.” Emma purrs.
You cry as your orgasm slams into you. Your body thrashes wildly as you cum, desperate to get away from the overstimulation, but Emma keeps fucking you, her fingers never stop rubbing your clit. Emma moans as you cum, your inner muscles tighten, massaging her cock in your ass.
“Fuck.” Emma curses, the feeling of your ass squeezing her cock just right sends her into her orgasm. She moans and ruts into you as her cum spills inside you. Your orgasm continues, crashing in waves over you as Emma’s hot cum extends your pleasure. Emma’s hips slow, until she stills, resting with her cock fully sheathed inside you.
She finally leaves your clit alone, but the damage has been done. You tremble weakly; you wouldn’t be able to stay up on your knees without Emma’s cock being inside you. A point proven a moment later when she slowly pulls her softening length out of you. You collapse into a mess of limbs on the couch. Somehow, you manage enough strength to roll onto your side. Emma’s cum drips slowly from your gaping ass, joining the mess already between your legs.
Emma wipes her cock off before redressing. You watch through half-lidded eyes as she carefully puts her clothing back in place. Your ass aches. Your cunt throbs. You feel so thoroughly sore. You don’t know how much longer you’ll be able to keep up with your patrons. Emma hums and pats your cheek condescendingly as she stands up. “Always a pleasure, darling.”
“Oh.” Emma pauses a step from the couch and turns back. “Almost forgot.” She leans back over, and you flinch weakly as you feel something prod at your ass. She pushes the plug back snugly inside you. There’s almost no resistance, and she slides the plug in smoothly. “There you go.” She’s gone a second later, locking the door back into place.
Emma’s only gone for about five minutes when the door opens again. “Mostly positive ratings today.” Jean walks across the room and sits on the couch beside your curled-up form. “Although it was a pretty vanilla day.”
“Mm.” You grunt in response, not trusting your voice to respond.
Jean looks you over, taking inventory of the damage for the day. The bruise on your cheek has fully formed, there are red marks from the flogger all over your thighs, your cunt is bright red and swollen, and there’s cum leaking from all your holes. “Spread your legs.” Jean hops up on her knees, pulling her pants down.
You whine and don’t move. You don’t think you’ll survive another fucking day.
“Spread your legs.” Jean snaps. “And I’ll consider forgetting your behavior with Illyana and Kitty.”
You groan but roll onto your back, throwing one leg off the couch to give her full access. “So good for me, baby.” You don’t have the strength to resist her at this point, and she spreads your legs with ease as she slides between them. “Fuck.” Jean moans as she slides into your cunt. She slides in with ease compared to earlier and quickly starts a steady pace fucking into your sloppy pussy.
“You’re such a mess, baby.” Jean purrs and leans down to capture your lips. You barely reciprocate, but Jean doesn’t mind. She moans into your mouth as she slowly fucks into you. She pants as she pulls her mouth away, resting her forehead against yours. “You did such a good job, much better than you’ve done before.” Jean praises.
You don’t respond to her praise, too fucked up to form coherent thoughts. Jean’s thrusts slowly grow harder and faster, steadily working herself up to orgasm. She leans down, kissing your neck softly before biting down roughly. You gasp as her teeth sink into your skin, marking you. She soothes the spot with her tongue, licking over the mark before picking a new spot and repeating the process.
You whimper softly as she creates marks across your neck and then down your shoulders. It’s part of her routine, her way of reclaiming you after letting so many others fuck you. Jean groans softly against your skin, and her cock twitches inside you. She’s always fast at the end. No doubt, too turned on from hearing everything that’s been done to you during the day to last long inside you.
“Take my cum, baby.” Jean groans, like you have any other choice, as she starts to cum inside you. She buries her cock inside you and grinds her hips into you, spilling her seed as deep inside you as she can. She collapses on top of you, hips weakly jerking into you as she drains her balls.
Her chest heaves against yours as her hips still. You let her lie on top of you, the weight comforting. You’re stuffed completely full, with the plug still in your ass and Jean’s cock and cum filling your pussy. Jean wraps her arms around your neck.
“Gotta get you cleaned up, baby.” She mumbles in your ear.
“I can’t move.” You answer.
Jean hums. “I’ll take care of you, don’t worry.” You can’t help the warm feeling inside you. This always happens: she puts you in this room, makes you serve her and her teammates, but then she’s so sweet afterward. Your brain is always left in a shattered state, and you’re so compliant with her. You’re completely broken down and in the perfect mindset for Jean to build you back up.
That usually lasts for a few weeks, until you forget your place, and then you’ll find yourself down here again. But for now, Jean is satisfied, and you find yourself feeling safe in her arms.
tw: afab reader, she/her pronouns overall, p links, mff threesome (for cloak and dagger only), sex toys, oral (female receiving), rough sex
! rivals men p links here !
make sure you're logged in to twitter/x to view the links!
ANGELA
↪ angela is a large, dominant partner in all aspects of your relationship, especially the bedroom. your size does not matter to her– she’s picking you up off the floor and fucking her strap into you until you can’t feel your legs. her prepotency really shines when she’s got you head down legs up, pile driving you hard against the resistance of your squeezing pussy. you will only submit to her completely once she’s fully fucked your brains out.
BLACK WIDOW
↪ natasha is a huge fan of using vibrators on you during your late night trysts. she’s even got a favorite wand, customized all pretty in pink just for you, that she loves using with the purpose of overstimulating you. how many times have you cum now: three, four? it’s hard to keep up when your high never finishes coming down, the relentless vibrations making both your eyes and your pussy cry out in gushes.
DAGGER (+bonus cloak)
↪ the benefit to tandy and tyrone being connected is that they’re both available when you’re in the mood for a threesome. she’s a whimpering mess– moans in tandem with the plap-plap-plap-ing rhythm of tyrone’s skin on hers. meanwhile, tandy’s face is buried in the messy folds of your pussy, the thrusting behind her helping her tongue greedily lap up at your juices.
EMMA FROST
↪ emma deserves the princess treatment, and she’ll make sure you know it. she’s got you on your tummy, eating out and licking both her holes, verbally guiding you to learn every micro-movement of the tongue that has her moaning your name through a lazy smirk. but you can’t stay down there forever. soon enough, you’re pushing a dildo in and out of her dripping cunt at the perfect pace and emma is soooo fucked out she forgets that she’s supposed to be teaching you.
HELA
↪ nothing fills hela with as much pleasure as seeing you face-down, crying and begging for her to slow down. the graceful combination of her fingers and strap hits your g-spot with movements only a goddess could manage, and it’s got you subconsciously rutting your hips back into her to take all of it despite the tears flowing down your face. ‘’s too much!!’ you cry out, high-pitched and whiny, over the noise of skin slamming against your greedy cunt.
INVISIBLE WOMAN
↪ as a woman with experience, sue knows how good a slow, intimate session is at building sexual anticipation and getting you to a mind-numbing orgasm. she’s teasing but not mean– she denies your request to bend you over and just fuck you senseless, but only because she still wants to make you feel good in all kinds of other ways first. her movements are slow but calculated: dragging against your silky walls before pulling out to circle slowly around your clit.
PHOENIX
↪ jean falls in love with you again every time your sopping mound lowers down to rub hers. you start moving against her, clit occasionally catching on the other’s, bringing you closer and closer to both your orgasms. you’re a jumbled mess of limbs and both your thighs get stickier and stickier with each other’s arousal, but she doesn’t care. all she’s focused on is the knot tightening in her stomach, ready to snap as soon as you reach down and devour her through kisses.
LUNA SNOW
↪ it’s so cute the way seol gets soooo horny once her clothes come off. her movements are almost on autopilot, her body only focused on using you to rub herself and chase that delicious orgasm only you can bring out of her. you get off on the way she turns into such a slut, pornographic moans falling from her mouth as she chases after her own pleasure, that you don’t even move to try and get more friction for yourself so she can finish faster.
MAGIK
↪ ILYANA CODED ILYANA CODED ILYANA CODED. I mean, what’s more punk than having you soooo in love with her you'll jump at the chance to hump even the heel of her foot? it’s so entertaining for her– your eyes snapped shut, bottom lip caught under your top teeth to try and stop the breathy moaning of her name, hips desperately chasing release. you’re going to make a mess of her shoe at this rate, but she knows you’d be more than grateful to lick it clean.
MANTIS
↪ you’re the one teaching mantis about human anatomy, and this lesson consists of female pleasure and ejaculation! and what’s better than the hands-on approach? your voice is shaky as you talk her through it, describing how good her soft, sticky lips feel rubbing against your clit and how bad you wanna see her body shake and come undone under yours. she’s a dirty, crying mess when you’re done with her, but oh-so-eager for your next scheduled lesson.
PSYLOCKE
↪ addicted: it’s the only way to describe sai’s obsession with your mouth. not even she knows why it gets her so wet when she’s practically tongue-fucking your face, all she knows is that her core tightens with raw, subtle pleasure when you say 'ahhhh' and wait: a silent plea for her to spit in your mouth. and of course she indulges, she would do anything you asked of her. for now, however, you’ll have to let her be selfish and indulge in your sweet, sweet kisses until she’s had her fill.
SCARLET WITCH
↪ wanda always makes sure to delve her slender digits into your aching pussy, finger-fucking you every time you have sex. but she’d be lying if she said it was only for your pleasure. the truth is that she loves the feeling of you clamping down on her fingers and the sound of your sexy, wanton moans filling the air. it only makes her go faster, fingers even deeper in your saccharine-slicked hole, her mission now to make you cum so hard you’re squirting all over her sheets.
SQUIRREL GIRL
↪ doreen is a certified munch™. you better be ready to spend hours at a time sitting on her face, body quivering with every forceful suck on your clit and legs shaking when she slides her tongue into your cunt and thrusts the appendage in and out to collect the mess you’re dripping. your ass isn’t safe either– she’s not a picky eater. her tongue runs along the puckered edge, the vibrations from her moans only helping you reach your peak as you ride her face.
STORM
↪ additionally to expressing her love for you, ororo uses sex as an opportunity to forget about the stress constantly plaguing her mind. as soon as you’re on top of her, fucking yourself on her strap, she’s already forgotten what she was so worried about earlier. please ride her, pinch your nipples while they bounce with the rest of your body, give her a show so she can cum and use the orgasm to wipe her brain completely so all she can think about is you and your divine pussy.
CONTENT WARNINGS. oral sex (f ! receiving). wlw. top ! zatanna. mentions of degradation. exhibitionism / voyeurism. includes p ! links.
INSTRUCTIONS. these can be read as just concepts, or with the attached videos. for the best experience + function of the links, make sure you’re logged into your x/twt account!
ZATANNA, who loves watching you put on a good show for her while you ride a toy. maybe, if you’re obedient enough when it comes to her instructions on how fast or how slow to fuck yourself, she’ll fuck you with her tongue or strap after.
ZATANNA, who can’t get enough of your pretty pussy in her mouth + her magical fingers deep inside of you, ruining you until you can’t find words.
ZATANNA, who adores the way your mind goes fuzzy + your eyes get glassy when she praises you for how wet you get when she touches you.
ZATANNA, who loves seeing her fingers pressing down on your tongue until you drool and whine for her, begging for her strap down your throat instead.
ZATANNA, who thinks you look too fucking irresistible when you take her strap from behind, when you’re melting into her bed and desperate for release. she loves seeing you bent over the side of her canopied bed, or across the desk in her study.
ZATANNA, who loves making out with your dripping cunt like it’s a full time job, devouring you until she’s pussy-drunk off the taste + sound of you coming for her.
ZATANNA, who loves how badly you need her, anytime, anywhere. she craves your hands + mouth on her skin, no matter where you two are, + she’s more than willing to use a few tricks up her sleeve to steal some privacy.
"You won't feel sad or guilty if you hurt someone"
That's basically how it is, yes, but it's not all black and white either.
I have a functional, logical approach to social interaction, so obviously I gain nothing from being a heartless jerk.
However, there are exceptional situations. If someone close to me had a problem tomorrow, I wouldn't emotionally empathize with them, it's true. But I can be annoyed to see someone I care about being in a bad mood.
It's also a matter of interest to some extent, I have an interest in not letting a fun person become depressed. I don't necessarily like it when people are in a bad mood in general, that's pretty annoying.
Following the same logic, if I hurt someone I actually care about, I can have a sense of awareness and be like, "shit." No, I wouldn't actively feel bad about it, but if I know I fucked up, I can try to make amend or be slightly more tender with them to smooth things over if I really value them.
Yes, I can sometimes see people's feelings as annoying or overblown. But if I mess up and know it, I'll be consistent and try to fix the situation because I benefit from not maintaining tense relationships.
There's a toxic trend online where clinical neurodivergence gets treated as a character flaw. With a psychology degree and two Cluster B personality disorders (ASPD and NPD), I know exactly how dehumanizing it is to be pushed to "perform recovery", to be told to hide or apologize for traits you never chose.
The truth is, personality disorders are complex, shaped by both biology and environment, and they're not moral failings. Forcing someone to "fix" themselves just to be accepted has nothing to do with safety. It's systemic sanism, and it needs to be called out for what it is, every time.
So-called "mental health advocates" often only support people whose trauma fits a neat, comfortable script, but real clinical presentations (especially Cluster B) rarely fit those boxes, and traits like reduced empathy, impulsivity, flat affect, or stigmatized symptoms like homicidal ideation aren't choices; they're clinical facts. The moment someone speaks honestly about numbness, lack of remorse, or scary thoughts, all support vanishes, and suddenly they're a monster. This isn't about safety at all; it's about control and erasing the messy truths of personality disorders, and that isolation makes it easy to target anyone with these diagnoses. I've seen it play out again and again:
Harassers demand guilt, remorse, or shame from people whose brains just aren't wired for those feelings, and with Cluster B disorders like ASPD, empathy and guilt can be dulled or even absent. Sometimes, symptoms like homicidal thoughts or total emotional numbness show up, and when someone owns these realities, their honesty gets twisted into "proof" they're dangerous, when these are clinical truths.
Apologies become traps. Say sorry, and it's dismissed as manipulative or fake, especially if you have ASPD or NPD and can't feel guilt like others do; but refuse to apologize, and you're branded unrepentant or beyond help. It's a rigged game that's never about resolving conflict, just exclusion and power.
These so-called protectors stalk, harass, and dig into your private clinical info while pretending to defend the community, but in reality, it's projection: they accuse others of the very behaviors they commit, and their harassment is often more abusive than what they claim to oppose. They smear your name for mentioning symptoms, then mimic your traits to claim your strength; they'll call you arrogant for being honest, but act even worse themselves, casting themselves as victims, stirring up hostility, and encouraging pile-ons. They dig for "evidence" in every word you say, trample boundaries, and invade your privacy, not for justice, but to erase your identity and steal your story. That's not advocacy; it's psychological violence, and I've lived it.
It's hypocritical to demand empathy and respect, then dehumanize people whose brains just don't work the way yours does; that's classic sanism, and calling harassment "community safety" doesn't sanitize it.
Callout culture feeds on outrage and rarely checks facts or clinical realities. Once you're targeted, almost nobody verifies accusations, and you become a social outcast, with no apology ever enough. Show remorse without being able to feel it, and you're accused of faking; refuse to apologize, and you're hounded for years while your harassers play hero. This isn't about safety or justice. It's bullying dressed up as virtue, and if we care about real inclusion, clinical evidence needs to matter as much as feelings do.
If mental health awareness only covers people who fit a narrow script, it's not awareness at all; it's exclusion. True awareness means making space for every lived experience, even when it challenges comfort or shatters the savior narrative, because anything less is just erasure by another name.
reorganizing all of my writings, thoughts, and headcanons for the Pitt.
garsanshimi masterlist
my longer stories, full fanfics, NSFW posts, and short drabbles/thoughts/blurbs centered on the relationship between Trinity, Yolanda, and Baran. some posts are focused more so on one person or just two of them, but most works focus equally on the three of them as a unit
samira mohan
apparently that's a trigger for me - lightly NSFW on ao3, samira accidentally falling into subspace at work after baran praises her
WIP drunken confessions - mohan accidentally flirts with garsanshimi when she is drunk, but then they actually invite her to join them
WIP untitled mowalsh getting together
cassie mckay
cassies biggest kink - NSFW, pussy inspection, her joining garsanshimi
the deal - NSFW, short, with garsanshimi, (extension currently in progress)
WIP inspections pt2 - NSFW, mcvadi
WIP ride - NSFW, cassie and trinity, strap ons
WIP taking turns - NSFW, cassie and baran, strap ons
emery walsh
walsh headcanons
see for yourself pt1, pt2 - NSFW, walsh joins garsanshimi
WIP untitled mowalsh getting together
misc./general
headcanons
life outside of a 12 hour shift - on ao3, series of works about different sapphic ships from the pitt
WIP untitled jemma night out, joy and emma getting together
if you would like to request a specific pairing or prompt, you can put it in my asks/inbox. these are my guidelines:
i only write sapphic ships, do not ask me to write about men, f/m, or m/m. if you do i will probably block you
i write mostly fluff, smut, and humor. i do write angst and hurt/comfort but not as often
i will not write a h*rry p*tter au, fuck JKR
i have a lot of WIPs and upcoming blurbs/ideas, all of which i am trying to put out as soon as i can. please be patient, but it is alright to remind me about one of my promised works bc it is not unlikely that i forget about something
if you come into my asks with lesbophobia, biphobia, transphobia, or any other form of hate or maliciousness, you will be blocked and reported immediately
i contribute a lot of ideas towards headcanons and stories built alongside my mutuals @blueeyesshyskies, @saintfingers, @santospilled (and a few others like @yuripittfreak, @santos-dreaming, and @chainedupdyke) go support their blogs as well, theyre all very talented and have such great ideas!!!
Robby deciding to start his life anew after delivering new life is so on the nose but so beautiful and i eat it UP.
Him checking on the newborn baby, very obviously thinking along the lines of „if this baby doesn’t make it, i won’t too” and „if it makes it, i will give myself one last chance” is literally the best representation of suicide ideation i’ve seen on tv in the last 15 years.
Antisocial Personality Disorder itself isn’t “being cool, scary, or ruthless.” Clinically, it involves patterns like violating others’ rights, deceitfulness, impulsivity, and other traits that can seriously affect relationships and life functioning. Online portrayals can flatten it into “I’m dark and unbothered,” which is very different from how mental health conditions affect real people.
Remember that when you seek validation for maybe having ASPD from someone who is actually antisocial because some of us get really annoyed and fed up with the psychopathy LARPING & a lot of us do not give a shit about your trauma dumping on how you did xyz bad thing as a kid. And you’re still hung up over it and shit years later.
need cassie to take her frustration out on me so bad. she’s sweet with her words, but so rough with her hands while manhandling and fucking me 🤤🤤🤤
cassie being so rough with her touches and her hands while she's fucking you, but apologizing so sweetly into your lips @__@ she's just so pent up and frustrated, almost feels bad for taking it out on such a sweet angel's hole. but it feels so good to be rough.
"it doesn't hurt, does it?" cassie asks breathlessly, chain swinging back and forth as she slams her hips into yours. "just tell me if it does, and i'll stop."
"i'm sorry for being so rough, baby. you're being so good for me. taking it so well." cassie grunts into your ear, nails digging into your asscheeks painfully while she thrusts into you from behind.
"i know it's too big, sweetie, but you can take it, can't you? just relax for me." cassie places open-mouthed kisses on your neck, hands gently stroking your sides while she coaxes you into taking her thick strap. she thrusts her hips forward again, feeling her cock sink in deeper. "thaaaat's it, baby. i knew you could do it."
cassie's fingers stuffed deep inside your mouth while she pounds into you, pressing down on your tongue and making you gag occasionally. god, she'd wipe your tears with her other hand and coo at you, praising you for taking her so well, but would still fuck the shit out of you. would still make you scream and squirm and babble incoherently while her strap bulges in your stomach.
cassie telling you what a pretty mess you look like while she pins your hips down!! she's between your legs, lapping at your swollen clit, rough hands wandering and groping you all over when she's not having to keep you still.
cassie whining out apologies for biting you or groping you too roughly, but still continuing to do it @__@ she'll clamp her jaw down on your neck and huff into it while she fucks you like a wild animal, will feel a twinge of guilt and hot pleasure settle in her belly when she pulls back and sees the teeth marks she left.
"shhhh, i'm sorry. i know it hurts." cassie soothes the fresh mark with her tongue and kisses it better. not even a minute later, she's got a bruising grip on your waist while her teeth break the skin on your chest.
cassie, with her fingers deep inside your hole, babbling about how good you feel while she nibbles on your bottom lip....she coos at your groans of pain, licks up your blood with her tongue when she bites down too hard.
cassie dacryphilia 👀👀👀 cassie being so rough she reduces you to tears 👀 cassie getting horny about it 👀 her voice is all breathless and raspy while she tells you how pretty you look when you cry. she's fucking drooling over your face while licking up your tears because they taste so good. her stomach knots up with pleasure at the sound of your sniffles and cries.
(established relationship, age gap, fluff, suggestive, pining, smut!, for some reason things got freakier as i went on, somnophilia and dacryphilia *sorry if you guys aren’t into that because i ammm*, degradation)
Baran Al Hashimi who will take whatever joke you make seriously, and stare into your eyes for a bit while she figures out that you’re joking.
Baran Al Hashimi who will buy you anything you want just to watch your pupils dilate and your smile grow to your cheeks.
Baran Al Hashimi who knows you’ll obey her when her son is around, so she makes sure to use her stern voice with you.
Baran Al Hashimi who is obsessed with taking selfies, especially of you and her, no matter your vulnerable circumstance… (wink wink)
Baran Al Hashimi who takes you out wearing the outfits she knows that drive you crazy. She loves challenging to see how long you last until you pull her into the bathroom.
Baran Al Hashimi who knows you like how much older she is than you, and watches you bite your lip and press your thighs together the second she brings something up about your age difference.
Baran Al Hashimi who makes you wait, while you quiver under her, until you beg for what you want. Even then she’ll tease you till tears prick at your eyes.
Baran Al Hashimi who makes sure you spend time with her and her son, imagining you as her wife one day, and his mother.
Baran Al Hashimi who isn’t afraid to raise her voice at you when you disrespect her. Even when she knows you do it on purpose, watching as your eyes light up with excitement while she uses degrading language.
Baran Al Hashimi who loves to watch your body squirm for friction while she holds your hips down on the strap. “Feel me in your tummy baby…” she would say to you breathlessly as she presses down on your abdomen to feel how deep she is.
Baran Al Hashimi who loves to see your eyes widen as her hand wraps around your neck while she scolds you for whatever you’ve done wrong.
Baran Al Hashimi who will mumble in farsi under her breath when you call her at work, reminding her of your activities the night before.
Baran Al Hashimi who instead of telling you she’s leaving early for work, you feel her slip under your sheets as you sleep, gently waking you up with a toe-curling orgasm. She’ll softly kiss you goodbye, brush her teeth, and be out the door.
Baran Al Hashimi who only focuses on your red teary eyes while you’re sucking her strap, not to make sure you’re okay of course, but to see how pathetic you look before she even fucks you.
lmk if you like ittt idk this is my first time posting this kinda stuff 💕💕💕
went ahead and posted this because it was collecting dust in my drafts
honestly one of my fav moments is when roxie`s father asks if she can have ice cream and javadi answers "she can have anything she wants" and the next scene is cassie
like knowing how she wants to make different choices in her life to have more things and experiences outside of work, to have something different from what she has now when she dies is so aaaaa
about ; still recovering from your accident that put your career as a surgeon on hold, your recruiter finds you a position in the Westbridge emergency room. Yet it’s the exact same place your ex..(?) and more relevantly, rival Cassie McKay is. I hate you for what you did and I miss you like a little kid.
warnings: surgeon!reader, dom!cassie, strong language, reader and cassie are very good at shit talking each other and basically argue for nearly the entirety of this shift…, lots of dialogue, flashbacks that are in bold italics, talks of self harm and depression, arguing, rough sex, fingering, pussy eating, just some good ole lesbian sex, this storyline takes place in one shift, unedited
a/n: I have to say I’m proud of this simply because of the massive headache it was to write. Some of this dialogue may or may not be taken from real events. My point is… some of us really should keep fuckin on our exes.
10:37 A.M.
TRAUMA STAT. ER. FAST, UNSTABLE.
You hear the chaos before you see it, “Pressure isn’t responding,”
“Push faster,” she snaps, “We’ve got a positive FAST, hypotensive despite blood, likely internal abdominal hemorrhage—”
“Negative, not responding to blood.”
Fast, controlled, familiar. All of this is familiar to you.
Except shes’s there. And you’re here, too. For a beat, everything tightens as you watch her straighten up with a glance to you. You step into line.
“Report,” you hear your voice but can hardly register it as yours.
“Twenty-something female, MVC, unrestrained. Intubated. Bilateral breath sounds diminished but present. BP forty over palp, HR one-sixty. FAST positive RUQ and pelvis. She’s exsanguinating internally.”
You nod once, scanning the patient as you press against her abdomen, eyes scanning rapidly, “Definitely bleeding out, likely spleen, possibly liver. Either way she’s not stabilizing. No time for imaging, straight to the OR.”
Cassie exhales through her nose. “Thats your takeaway? Already called it, she’s dying.”
“I can see that,” you say evenly. “How about you just try not to lose her before I can open her up?”
Cassie lets out a humorless breath, “Maybe try getting down here faster next time.”
“You wanna argue or you wanna save her life?” You raise your brow, shuffling for the handles and preparing for transport. “Because it seems like—“
Someone cuts in, “BP’s thirty-five and dropping,”
“Already called the OR—“ You both react at once, adjusting the gurney as she surges forward with intervention as all of you move, trying to clear the bed through the threshold of the elevator.
You watch with tunnel vision as you hit the button to upstairs, the noise all around you dropping when you feel her gaze on you.
No softness, no forgiveness, just a feigned lack of recognition and professionalism.
“Hi,” she says, clipped, controlled, like she’s reading off a chart she doesn’t want to hold. Cassie is more aware as ever of watchful eyes as staff pumps and coordinates behind. “It’s… nice to see you.”
You pierce your lips, incorrigible. You don’t answer that because you both know it isn’t. Not really.
When the recruiter asked if you knew anyone in the Pitt, you immediately declined, causing him to watch you with confusion. Medicine was a small world. As he filed through forms, he missed your grimace when he expressed how happy you should be for this opportunity. And you should’ve been. Especially after everything.
To most, you were like Icarus who flew too close to the sun. Too ambitious, too sharp, too eager to take risks until it bit you in the ass. The exact details of your fall from the podium was unknown but enough floated around. Car accident, Ambien. What medical professional doses themselves so wrong to the point of almost dying?
A week and a half of taking the secondary place on cases at Westbridge was all you had managed before you were paged to come before your maker. The Pitt was the exact place you had been dreading.
12:14 P.M.
Nearly two hours later, you watched as the monitor remained on a steady rhythm. You allowed the sounds of the operating room to fade, sliding open with a soft hum as you stripped off the latex on your hands and the polyester of your surgical greens.
The elevator ride back down felt infinitely longer than the one up. While you knew you had no business going back down there, an entirely new fire that had ignited in your chest soon after seeing inside the body cavity. And this one was bigger than medicine, it drove you through the second floor as you searched for her figure.
There. You found her in a way that annoyed you by how instinctual it still was. Leaning against the nurse’s center was Cassie, speaking animatedly with hair was longer than the last time you saw her, more cool toned, same signature bangs but wispier.
“McKay,” you began. It was foreign rolling off your tongue. You’d never called her that. Ever. “Hi. You were wrong.”
She looks towards you, eyes minorly bewildered as she glances around at her surroundings. “What? Did she pass?”
Your presence disrupts the natural flow of the floor as doctors and nurses alike speaking to her turn to you. You force a smile, trying to land it as constructive as Jesse and a dark haired intern stand by her side. You look between her and Cassie, eyes furrowing before reading her badge. Santos.
“She’s stable,” you raise your eyebrows, sighing. “For now. But the bleeding was worse than we thought. I would’ve known if you had just bothered to flip her over and look.”
“You really came down here to tell me I was wrong when it was just a piece of the puzzle? Couldn’t wait to place a report for me to review?” She scoffed, giving voice to her thoughts.
“It was careless. And wasteful of all those transfusions before we found the second leak. I rely on you to tell me what I need to know.”
“This is Trauma, we did what we had to.” She hisses, head bobbing to the two others by her side as if you had insulted the entire unit. You hadn’t. Or at least you hadn’t meant to.
It doesn’t change the way that Santos leaves and Jesse passes by you, a disapproving grimace on his face.
Regardless, you don’t really care what else she has to say. You huff, turning your back in pursuit of the safety of upstairs. But she’s hot on your tail.
She grabs your arm, rough, commanding your attention.“I’m not finished. What the fuck do you get out of trying to undermine me in front of everyone? I work here.”
You want to scream I do too, now. All because of you.
You had learned that being in the same state, never less the same branch as her was too much to bear. “You ruined Pittsburgh for me.”
Cassie lets out a rough laugh over the accusation, “So you don’t like me and because of that you want to make it seem like I’m incapable of doing my job?”
And she makes it sound so little, so minuscule. That your reluctance towards her was a hairline fracture when it had shaped your reality and career for the last few months.
“You really don’t think you were out of line discussing me like that last year, Cassie? Didn’t think it’d get back to me?”
Word had traveled. Quickly. It got back to you tenfold through the gossip mill of not just the doctors but the nurses, security guards, hospital executives.
“It’s a huge disappointment when someone that capable and intelligent fumbles whatever they had going on. I mean, if it were me, I’d take everything life had to offer,” the end sounded especially bitter. It seemed like Cassie forgot to include the fine print told she was part of the deal you didn’t take.
When asked if she thought there’d be any legal repercussions for the empty pill bottles in your glove compartment at the time of the crash, she could only say, “Whatever she’s probably feeling that made her do what she did is probably punishment enough. I mean, I can’t think of any worse time for this to happen, right?”
No one was really the wiser. In a single conversation she had turned what had happened to you into ammunition, an accident that had no business being speculated on. Most people thought ah, of course you were the only person Saint McKay could hate. It had made sense. You were the antithesis, supplied and supported in every avenue of life. She had grown up in questioning what the very next day could be.
Starting out everywhere, you had became a topic of the gossip mill to the point of isolation. It got you in and out of hospitals quick by your own volition. And you were sure she knew it.
Cassie’s eyes squinted, countering your argument. “You mean to tell me you haven’t said anything about me?”
Your throat grew dry, knowing exactly what she was talking about.
You had kept it short and sweet. Your coworkers gathered around you as you told them between cases that week you heard Cassie McKay had almost gotten taken into police custody while on the clock. It the only time you weren’t the topic of conversation, so you did what you had to.
“I know we’re all human but she couldn’t keep all the trouble at home? I heard she used to be into some hard stuff. Some people never change, right?”
The nurse to your left quipped in, “Do you know her?”
“No. Not really.”
She clearly doesn’t like how you stay silent, all talk, as she comes closer to you. She’s painfully quiet as you feel her lips against your ear. You want the stirring in your lower stomach and the quiver in your lip to just fucking go away, not sure if you’ll cry or hit something. But what she murmurs next causes you to jump anyway.
“I guess we both can’t get over something our ex said about us. All that spitefulness, not a good look on you.” Her eyes are sparkling, almost amused at how easy it still is to make you fall in line.
It had been some time since Cassie McKay had displayed such candor.
You ignore the way she says it as if she can’t help but let her desire for you contaminate her indifference. It makes you want to shrink, or better, disappear. She didn’t deserve to look at you after everything that went down.
“Ex? I wouldn’t go that far, Cassie.”
It was easy in the beginning to pretend that what you had didn’t need defining. Easy to let it exist in the quiet spaces in the late night dive bars you always saw her in. The first time you only looked at her across the ledge. The second time, the two of you spoke and you found out that it was never booze in her cup, just club soda and lime but she offered for you to get whatever you wanted. She told you that she was a doctor at the Pitt and she knew you were at MCI. It felt kismet.
The third time, you let her buy you that drink and put her hand on your lap. She asked if you liked it. You told her you liked it all. Those first few weeks, you could’ve sworn her juices had gotten in your brain.
“Whatever it was, I’d suggest moving past it.” Cassie says it dismissively, her lips in a straight line.
But you can’t. Or maybe just won’t. You regret your next attack before it even leaves your mouth but you don’t really know what else to do, in just these short little moments she had taken your credibility. Made it clear you weren’t equals. In the fine print it read that she had done the work on herself for years while your wounds were still fresh.
“At least those meds were mine.” You hit.
You can see the line visually break off Cassie’s face as she blinks rapidly. You feel disgusting for even having said it, for how it now felt like you were getting stabbed while witnessing the look on her face. You can’t find it within yourself to celebrate how she backs off. Your hand that had balled into a fist diffuses, coming down limply to your side.
The reaction she has to it only serves as a reiteration of I still know you. At the time it didn’t matter that those were the things she told you on the latest nights when the bags under her eyes were most prevalent. It wasn’t that Cassie had wanted to be open with how bad it truly got, it was simply that she couldn’t not be anymore. Even after nine years of sobriety it was still hard. When she told you back then, you held her for it.
And the only reason you’d ever say something like that was it you were at your wit’s end. Or further.
You both pounce at once, “I shouldn’t have—“
“You’re angry, I know.“ Cassie whispers, focused on your face, examining your displays of hostility. She hopes it’s there and not vengeance.
There were so many times you were happy to put her before yourself. With congruent day shifts that often stretched into night, it didn’t matter how heavy the load you wore after clinical was, you had always tended to her needs first. It was partially why you had become so close to Harrison, with all those late night watch parties while she napped.
You still stood unsure if that willingness to sacrifice was what love was or just a symptom. And despite being your senior, you knew she didn’t know the difference all the time either. In that way you understood and you loved her. You loved her, you loved her, you still loved her.
“No, you don’t know—“
She cuts through, “What were you doing taking that stuff, anyway?”
Her sympathy now feels like an attempt to have you walk further back on the past few months. You couldn’t do that, you didn’t want to. “Why does anyone take sedatives? Maybe you’re losing your touch because you should know.”
But she’s searching for something, “What I mean is why did you take so above the recommended dose and then get behind the wheel?”
It’s calculated and exact the way she phrases it, as if she’d spent plenty of time pondering upon it. You can’t find it in yourself to deliver a snappy response, exhausted from all the codes, the patients, the judgement, the looks.
“Do you know how it feels to realize you have the ability to cut someone open, maneuver the very insides of their body but waking up, feeding yourself, knowing how to be here feels fucking impossible?” You erupt, voice rugged.
You know on some level she had once felt that. But it wasn’t the same. Becoming a doctor had given her further purpose, made her a role model, an anomaly. In conjunction, you felt like it had taken yours. All the expectation, the stakes that were literally life and death crippled you.
It comes out louder than you mean it to. You can see passing personnel look towards you but you hardly care, looking at your counterpart expectantly. If it wasn’t for the way she looked at you like she wanted to disappear, you’d relish the way you physically felt lighter.
“Like, you understand the discrepancy, right?” you say, voice clipped. “I can incise, expose, navigate a body well enough to keep it alive. I can control bleeding, correct damage, suture and be faithful I’ve contributed to their survival.”
A pause controlled, but tight.
“And yet I was failing at the most elementary functions. Eating. Existing. As if I was missing something fundamental.” Your jaw sets, finished.
Cassie remembers when she found out. Her vision had turned white and she hardly spoke for the week after, almost as if hearing you got hurt had killed her and calcified her life. With what Cassie now knew, she would’ve dropped to her knees and wailed in the middle of the emergency room.
Back then, she felt like she cared enough for both of you. So much that she couldn’t quite form the words to express she had no idea this, you, was deliberate.
“You weren’t missing something. Out here in real life, we’re not given instruction on how to be happy or good.” Her eyes hold yours, steady.
“That’s the problem.” You swallow, moving past her.
It’s a Tuesday and she’s finally yours with her two consecutive days off and a muted phone. She’s your Cassie who laughs uncouthly and loud, who cherishes her baby blue ‘87 BMW, who can’t help but indulge, never able to say no to you or Harrison. The two of you used it against her tiredlessly, always negotiating dessert before dinner. Without a doubt she had noticed recently your eyes had grown empty.
Whatever this was had transcended the mockery of casual.
“If there is something going on with you, I want to know.” She kneeled at your side as you limply sat in the kitchen chair.
She was asking you. Cassie who had close calls countless times.
Cassie who had nearly chosen death but because the dichotomy of redemption was forced to live.
Cassie who received a new lease on life, moving forward out of addiction with trembling legs into medical school.
Cassie who was blind with will and thirst to change.
How were you supposed to tell her that there was no actual problem? That you were just someone who possessed a deficiency that made you subtly unadaptable to this life?
There was just so much death everywhere that you had just begun to think.
6:21 P.M.
The corners of your mouth trembled despite your attempts to still them as you swallowed deliberately around lump in your throat. You were capable of holding this careful facade for just a few moments more, holding your head high as you briskly walked to the locker room.
It pissed you off how you were always so close to the end before you broke down.
Breathe.
You turned the dial clockwise three times, stopping at the first number and rotating to the rest.
It doesn’t give.
You spin it, the numbers coming out under your breath.
Again, locked.
Breathe.
“That won’t work. Not on that one.” When you turn around to her voice, she looks exactly how you’d expect her to, her hands in her pockets and eyes present.
“Yes—“ you hastily try the combination again, voice shaky and hands all the same, “It will.”
She sighs, hitting the blue metal sheet and allowing the locker to fling open ahead of you with a dull clang. You feel sheepish that she can see how urgently you stuffed your life in it this morning, all your things packed tightly.
Cassie tries to make conversation as she steps several feet away, giving you the space to gather yourself.
“This is one of those things no one warns you about,” she says lightly. “Starting somewhere new.”
You mutter a curt thanks while turning to handle your shit. You feel foolish, like a child, and much more juvenile than McKay as you rummage through your things to find your keys. The base of your nose burns as swallowing becomes harder. It’s clear to anyone you’re a mess, you can’t stop the quiver in your bottom lip and you feel so small and ridiculous and outside of everyone in the hospital. You haven’t had this bad of a day since…
“Have you eaten?” It comes out steady but Cassie’s eyes are staggering and sad.
She’s hard to say no to. Not because she’s ever asked you things in big, impossible ways but the very opposite. She had always been all give, no take. Somewhere along the line, her generosity had generated its own gravity.
That’s how you end up across from your ex from some months and change ago inside a Chinese restaurant.
She scans the menu as if it’s something she truly cares about. You want to grab her face and tell her you know she prefers take out, that she never truly has an appetite when she gets off work. Neither of you mention that the two of have already put in your orders and there’s no reason to investigate further.
Her eyes flicker across the table. You look as if you’re drowning in your sweatshirt, eyes waxy and dim. She synchronizes her breaths with yours before speaking, “When I step outside of it, it’s clear you were dealing with some things and I’m sorry.”
“I don’t need that.” You say cautiously.
“Look at me,” You do, immediately muscle memory. You watch as Cassie prods at her silverware before speaking again. “I’m sorry for all of it. The name calling, my behavior, especially my pride that made me misread all of it. I reduced it all down to you not wanting to be around me.”
“I wasn’t exactly operable,” you continue to look back at her, “You weren’t able to send me down to labs and see what was wrong.”
That almost earns a reaction—a smile, from her gone as quickly as it comes.
“If it was possible, I would’ve.”
Your cheeks are flustered from her air of verity. You toss your head into your hands, exhausted and not willing to cry in front of a plate of crab rangoon, “Can we talk about anything else?”
A beat.
Cassie sets the menu down, “Have you been with anyone else?”
“Seriously, Cassie?
“I’m not allowed to ask questions?”
“You are. It’s just that I’m not sure if it benefits either of us today to say.”
“There’s been a few on my end.” She blatantly confesses and you can’t tell exactly why she does.
A few. A few? A few. You calculate how many such an ambiguous amount could honestly really be while knowing you won’t ask, not now.
You force out a laugh, “Are you trying to hurt me?”
“I say that to point out that no one else has been enough for me.”
You shake your head, a loose smile on your face as you blow out, “And not because I should be jealous about all those fucks you were allegedly giving out?”
“You got enough if I remember correctly,” she was quick with it, “Was there ever a time I left without you cumming?” It’s a rhetorical question, of course.
Stilling your hips, you let Cassie lick precise lashes at your pussy while you bent over, grasping at the headboard of your childhood bed so harshly that you had left nail marks in the plush. She bucked against you, not finished as her breasts pressed against your sweaty spine and she fucked two fingers into you from the back.
Later that night, the two of you got ice cream at the parlor down the street from your old high school. You tasted her cookies and cream on her lips, grabbing at her waist that was clothed in your near-booty shorts from senior year.
“I don’t think he likes us doing this.” You joked at the dog’s insitant barking across the street.
“I don’t give two shits about what he likes,” she mumbled, lacing her fingers with yours.
When your mom inquired a month after the visit about Cassie, you dropped the call mid-question. She called back once, twice, a few more times after that, trying to sound casual but never quite managing to. Asking if your phone was acting up. If the call had dropped. If everything was okay.
After the accident, she stopped asking all together as if there was no version of your life where you would’ve been found hunched over the driver’s seat, airbags deployed and ribs smashed to smithereens if Cassie had still been there.
Which lead you to your next question:
“Why didn’t you check on me when you heard what happened?”
She examines you pointedly, hesitating before confessing, “I called your mom. She said you’d recover and I took her word because you’re her kid.”
“You spoke to my mother?” You exclaimed. You think about how the woman’s never been good at keeping secrets.
Cassie ignores your shock, “I did, ‘cause you left. And I had already came clean about how much I wanted you,” She purses her lips and you hate how she says the rest so matter-of-factly. “And I was.. am divorced, a mom, and you’re over ten years younger but at a similar point in your career. Maybe even a better one.”
You can tell by the way she hardly stammers that she had developed, lived with, and came to accept those as reasons you were unable to keep your promises. As if some of the key things that she had grown to be automatically qualified her to being unwanted during those eight months.
You linger on how none of it is true. You miss sitting next to her, getting high off her smell and presence.
It’s your turn to speak up, “Did I not make you feel like I wanted to keep you forever? Not despite all of that, but with it?”
Cassie smiles bitterly. “You never said it quite like that, but yeah. You did.”
She’s the woman that makes you feel out of control. Loving her is the one thing you’ve never been able to reconcile, it captures and moves you. Cassie to you is singular.
You say her name once, twice, and she stretches her arm across the table, reaching for you. Somewhere inbetween you two ending up on the same side of the booth and a whispered I missed the fuck out of you, y’know that, right? You’re met with your back against her front door.
Her hands run down your body, invading each and every corner of you. Your hips, your waist, the small of your back, the back of your thighs which she uses to hoist your body upwards and against the doorframe, caging you in.
She kisses you like she wants to eat you, testing how much of you she can consume before she chokes.
Her apartment is the same and you’re not sure if you’ve fully given up the right to feel like it’s also yours too. Nearly half of the magnets on the fridge are just as you left them.
The floral wallpaper in her bedroom that she swore she’d get rid of is illuminated by navy lamps that project a blue hue to your face while she adds your top to the pile of shed clothes.
As wet kisses sound on your neck and you land on the familiar surface of her bed (which you had grown to enjoy more than your own). Part of you wants to believe you’re dreaming this up, like all those weeks ago when you couldn’t even sleep next to your cellphone in fear you’d tell her to meet you where you were.
Cassie runs her hand down your abdomen, lingering on your ribs where black and blue bruises at some point cascaded the surface area. Goosebumps form on your arms and you nervously watch her gaze over your ribcage.
She can tell that if she was to press any harder, it’d be a point of contempt for you. She begins to kiss down your neck and you feel her sweet breath on the back of your ear. Your breath comes out ragged, your body already convulsing when you feel a smile take shape on her pink lips. Your minuscule jump at her tongue on your torso turns her eyes turn soft. “You hurt yourself.”
You nodded, inhaling her. “I did.”
Cassie places a soft, slow kiss. “You’re almost good as new,” then sterner, “So don’t do that again.”
You throw her a smile and it’s not lost on either of you how it’s easier said than done. That hardly remains a thought in your mind when she strips you of your underwear. She moves her hands up the extent of your inner thigh, your panties still in hand as if she just can’t let go.
You’re intoxicated on her as she fucks her tongue between your thighs, one arm holding a leg back and the other apart. She hardly lightens up as your screams become more pitchier and your hips spasm.
The way she fucks and flicks those two fingers into you is the exact way you like it. On the surface, you moan, your feet arching and as your grab at the neckline of her scrubs before shoving her lips into yours.
A few. A few.
A touch deeper you feel elated that even if shes touched others, she's given it to them in the way you liked. The way that the two of you had finetuned from weeks of screwing, each detail designed to send you over the edge. It was the only way she knew how to.
You’re already cumming before she plunges her middle and index finger inside you, flexing them up and nearly laughing against your pussy about the desperate squelching sound it makes. Her tongue stays attentive on your clit, flexing forwards and back at the same pace.
It’s disgusting the things she says to you, really. That you’re the only one who makes her buzz, you’re the tastiest she’s ever had so she’ll have to keep you forever. That you’re so, so good. That you matter.
“Cassie—“ you hardly get her name out before she sucks harder.
You selfishly squeeze around her fingers and you can feel your wetness drip to your ass where every few licks at you she dips down to collect. She laps at your folds, humming against your body as you tell her how utterly fucked you are and how hard you’re gonna cum.
The grinding into her face turns into pulling away, try as she might you won’t let her lick another thick stripe up your pussy.
In the midsts of your overstimulation it fucks you in the brain to think of her saliva mixing with your cum again. A hazy smile slips on your face as you felt her cleaning up her mess, careful not to actually stimulate you further.
When you nearly drag her up to kiss you, her chins wet and she has the biggest smile you’ve ever seen on her. She tastes and smells like you and her sweat. You cup her pussy through her cotton underwear, gasping onto the fact Cassie is promising to exploit touching you again to the fullest intent.
She lets out a deep, guttural moan as you slide the fabric the side just to slowly pump your fingers inside her. The way she still finds a way to settle into dominance amazes you as she rocks back and fourth, using you as a tool to fuck herself.
You feel the friction between her hair, wetness, and pussy, causing you to cry out with hardly being touched. You wanted to be consumed, consoled.
You softly tug on her braid, partially undone and bangs urging her to look at you. Cassie continues to grind herself down, smiling at how you shrink in shyness. “I want you to sit on my face?”
You know she doesn’t always let you have it because it’s always been something to earn but it’s worth a try. You know she’s missed it too.
She leans down to place a feathery kiss on your lips and you feel her lashes on yours, “Anything you need, baby.”
She shuffles up your body, leaving you feeling inebriated over the feeling of her heat over your mouth. She’s mid straddle before you pounce, sucking at her. You peel your eyes open, watching as her eyes are shut tightly and she’s trying to control her breathing.
Her tits move in succession with her hips and you find yourself bringing a hand up to grasp one, pinching her nipple between your fingers. It makes her rut harder and let out an audible coo.
Every time you’re not sure you could be brought closer to her cunt, you are. Cassie firmly holds you on both sides of your head, making sure you’re of service to her by bringing her to orgasm.
It’s blissful to know she still cums the same way, becoming extra dominant as she jerks back and forth. Her voice becomes teasing, nearly condescending as she chases hers quickly. At one point, you just stick your tongue out and feel as she rides it, choking out “Fuck was I doing without you?”
She hovers over your face for a little bit longer, weaning off your tongue with lighter and lighter pressure each time. Those nights alone when you had no other choice but to succumb to your imagination, something like this was the exact vision that got you off.
You’re still gazing down at her breasts as she lays next to you, neither of you speaking up because suddenly the ceiling feels like the most interesting thing in the world. You can feel how nervous Cassie is, as if you’d label this a misstep but she touches you anyway, dragging the weight of your body onto her.
Both of you know neither will move an inch but you have to ask, just to be sure.
“Was that okay?” She knows you’re not just referring to your two naked bodies against each other but everything. Today, the things you said, the past months.
She grasps onto you tighter, burrowing your head deeper into the warmth of her neck. You can’t even process how you two could physically be closer.
“I want you to stay the night.”
“If you’ll have me, I’d like to stay a little longer than that.”
———————————
a/n: since this fic was lacking in traditional background and quickly paced, I wanted to write through the language and flashbacks as if they had so pretty moments while together they were both trying to get out of their head. Hope it felt like part of you, reader <3
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Cassie / Reader - You get drugged and beaten up and your family cannot regulate without you.
Warnings : Mentions Readers Assault / Drugged Reader / Assault outisde of hospital / Doc Cassie McKay x Doc Reader / Past al hashimi romantic relationship / No SA but they ask / Cassie's Temper / Found Family / Hurt Comfort / The Pitt Family Dynamics / 2k oneshot / No Beta We Die Like Season 2 Pitt Computers / 18+
“I need you to take a breath before I tell you this,” Robby tried, but the look in his eye was enough.
All the alarm bells went off for Doctor McKay. The instant panic.
Her, Dana, and Baran were drinking coffee in the break room after a small lul before the next wave.
“What is it?” Cassie snapped, setting down her coffee cup, her body already moving to the door.
The charge nurse and senior attending followed closely behind.
Robby’s voice shakes; he’s afraid too.
“She’s being cared for, we are going to run a toxscreen-“ Robby starts but Cassie’s heart drops and she sprints to trauma one wherSantos and Whittaker are both anxiously working to the best of their abilities.
The IV in your arm and the shiner on your eye made everyone in the Pitt instantly furious.
Princess and Mateo were moving around you with just as much intensity.
By the time Cassie makes it to the foot of your bed she’s whiter then the bedsheet.
“No…” She says and Dana glares at Robby.
“What the hell happened?” She misplaces her anger, not about to point it at you.
Robby opens his mouth but he too is in pain looking at you.
“Who did this to you?” Cassie whispers, but everyone wants to know.
“Three men are being assessed, broken bones, the attackers, she got em.” Robby grins like a proud Dad, but his left eye can’t hide the tear.
“We ain’t treating em!” Dana yells at Robby, who shakes his head. They couldn’t say no to a patient. But it was good there were police officers standing guard of the men’s rooms. Because too many people in this room would go to bat for you.
This room was made up in those who loved you, and it showed.
You wheeze, having a bruised rib. Santos tells Whittaker to give morphine.
“I don’t want it.” You say, your head in so much pain. The drugs make the room look melty, but you are here for this.
“Stop it,” Cassie hisses, but you are stubborn.
“Present,” Doctor Al-Hashimi orders cold and calculated.
Santos looks at Whitaker, who is also too afraid to speak.
“PRESENT ALREADY!” Dana yells and you wince. But this time you answer.
“33 year old female, drugged at a bar, head trauma, cracked wrist, broken cheekbone, and bruised, possibly broken ribs, 125 over 80. Patient is coherent and on blood pressure medications zyprexa and Letuda, Bipolar II.” You list off to your work family, fuck - your only family.
A few of them have no idea of your medications, but all of them wanting to ask, but are unable to.
Cassie’s hand shakes as she takes off her stethoscope, propping it in her ear to hear you, but her hands can’t seem to hold the end up to your chest.
Your heart breaks watching her.
“Doctor McKay, let me,” Robby says, moving forward but he doesn’t get the chance.
“DONT!” Cassie yells too loudly, and everyone freezes. Dana bites her lip. She can’t take this.
It’s your best friend, and ex-girlfriend Al-Hashimi, who steps forward.
“Doctor McKay, given the relationship you two have-“
Dana scoffs at the absurd amount of hypocrisy, seeing as Baran wasn’t over you. That somehow she should be on this medical team.
Santos feels awkward, and Whittaker is very interested in the labs he’s sending on the computer.
“Do you have any family we can call?” Robby asks because it’s muscle memory, but he knows the answer. Of course, he knows the answer.
“We’re her family,” Baran interjects, and you try to concentrate on your girlfriend. Or the room not melting, the drugs making it hard for you to stay awake.
Cassie looks ready for a second ankle monitor.
Her face morphing between absolutely murderous and agony, you wanted to take the pain away from her.
“They already-“ she starts, but Santos answers: “We did the scraping under her nails, and uh took photos.”
Dana doesn’t like that: “That’s not your job.” She’s possessive over your safety. Of the chain of custody to get these assholes.
“It had to be done,” Robby interjected, having been the one to do it.
“McKay, you cannot work this case.” Dr. Al-Hashimi insists, but it’s clear it’s because she needs to. The rule follower wasn’t saying it for the ethical reasons.
Cassie’s nostrils flare in rage she opens her mouth ready to give Baran the riot act. Her fists clench, she’d happily hit the doctor, all that pent-up jealousy of what you and your ex had.
When you reach out with all your strength and grab her arm, it stops her.
She eyes you carefully, fight leaving her body at your careful touch.
“Sit, baby.” You say, calming the room just like you did every shift. “Please, hold my hand.”
You can barely keep your eyes open, the drugs hurt. Everything hurts, you just want to sleep.
Princess fluffed your pillow and smiled kindly at you. Mateo moved the rolling chair for Cassie. Whittaker puts in the morphine order in case you change your mind.
You were too important to these people.
You were Robby’s confidant, bringing him dinners because he forgot to eat. Abbot's late-night text to talk him off the ledge, to go on runs in the mornings after his shift. Dana’s partner in crime, always on the same page. You took care of Santos like a little sister, gave Whittaker confidence every time you pat him on the back. You forgave Lagdon first and defended Dr. King.
You breathed this ER.
You were the heart of the Pitt.
As your chest constricted, and it hurt to breathe, looking around the room, you were sure of that now.
“Sit,” Baran agreed, her eyes telling McKay ‘I wish more than anything she’d asked me to, don’t waste this.’ So Cassie swallows her rage and plops down carefully in a wheely chair that Mateo gave her. The ER doctor who was in love with you scooted it close to your bed, lacing your fingers together tight.
The next hour was a blur, but Cassie didn’t move, didn’t flinch; she was a rock next to you.
Holding your hand like she could keep you safe in her grasp.
The Pitts finest worked on you like you were the most important patient.
It wasn’t until they could no longer take it that Dana and Baran told everyone to get the fuck out.
“But I need to-“ Whittaker pointed to the IV, but Dana glared at him so hard farmboy almost caught on fire.
They closed the door behind him and pulled a privacy sheet.
Doctor Al-Hashimi opened her mouth, then shut it again. You watched as the woman you almost married couldn’t speak for the first time ever.
You couldn’t help her either, but Dana grabbed her arm and pulled the doc back, stepping in front.
“I know what you told Robby…” she says, and Cassie glares at the charge nurse.
“Stop it.” She insists, but Dana ignores the doctor; some fates were worse than losing a friendship for your safety.
“Baby, we need to know if…if the person who did this sexually assaulted you.” Dana looked at you as though you were her child.
You knew Dana Evans, the way she was almost losing it, but holding on. She was so strong.
Cassie’s hand tightened harder, her fury sizzling off her skin.
“No,” you said a little too quietly.
Baran's lip shake, you read them all so well.
Cassie’s almost vibrating next to you.
She inhales sharply, then turns and looks at you. Putting away all of her own feelings.
She needs to be your person right now.
“My love, are you sure?” Cassie says, with the strength you’d never seen. She’s loving, she’s trying to meet you where you are.
“Cassie, three men drugged me, I was at the bookstore that sells alcohol. I forgot it did, I just wanted a book. It happened so fast, I ordered a decaf coffee, they slipped it in my drink, I was pushed into the back. But I fought- I…” you can’t stand how small you sound. How your defending your actions, how even now you hate how you word it.
None of it was your fault, but seeing these people filled with worry made you feel guilty.
The drugs made your eyes heavy.
Cassie nods, she’s shaking, but she’s smiling at you.
“I know, baby, of course you did. You did so good, none of this is your fault.” She said lifting your hand with its bruised knuckles to kiss gently.
Cassie’s not afraid of the blood, of the ugly part of life or loving you.
It’s something you found endlessly comforting about her, she wasn’t afraid of the hurt.
But the other side of that coin was…Cassie also wasn’t afraid of jail, and the men in this ER were in her mind very, very worth it.
Baran twists out of the room, she can’t do it.
She can’t see you like this.
Dana closes and opens her eyes, looking at you one last time.
She gives you a comforting smile, it takes work.
She’s a angry mama bear ready to claw out the men who did this to you. Dana had done worse for a lot less.
“Sweetheart, if someone sexually assaulted you, we need to take samples, you know the drill.” She says but Cassie snaps at her.
“She said no!” Cassie shouts and you wince again, your head is pounding. Cassie hurries her head in her hand like it could erase this hurt, she’s trying to remain solid.
Doctor McKay is a loose cannon, first Robby, now Dana; this wouldn’t end well. But you couldn’t do anything about that.
“Okay,” Dana's accent comes out, but she reaches out and squeezes your blanket-covered foot.
It’s ’I love you,’ it’s ’I’m here for you’ it’s everything that Dana exudes.
You mouth ‘thank you.’ Then Dana leaves the room, you let Cassie just breathe.
“Cassie, I’m sorry.” You say sleepily, she lifts her head.
“Oh my sweet girl, this is so not your fault. We shouldn’t live in a world where you get-” She reaches forward and kisses the bandage on your head. McKay can’t say it outloud.
You fall asleep, waking for more tests, the scan of your brain, the x-ray of your arm and ribs.
It’s late by the time they’re done with the tests. The drugs are being flushed from your system, but you're still groggy.
That’s when you hear Cassie explode.
At first it’s the sound of a medical tray cart being chucked onto the floor, all of the viles and metal clanking for another minute. Then the most primal scream you’ve heard in a long time. It sounds like it’s ripping through her chest leaving scar tissue in its stead.
You jerk awake but can’t move, too drugged still. Head pouding like someone was slamming into your temples.
“Cassie!” Langdon shouts, and you almost don’t believe she could be the one to wreck a piece of the ER.
But the sounds of more metal falling and glass breaking is undeniable.
The scream turns into something even more broken, but you must be hallucinating, because that couldn’t be.
You think it’s someone else at first, maybe?
Because…well your girlfriend doesn’t cry.
She said she couldn’t cry. Hasn’t cried in a very long time.
Had you brought Cassie to tears?
But the sobs rack her body, is undeniable. Then you hear Langdon shushing her, comforting to the best of his abilities. It’s not great, and it’s the wrong way to help her.
It wasn’t Langdons fault, it’s just that he doesn’t know.
Cassie was like a cornered animal; you heard another piece of equipment get thrown.
“HEY! HEY! Doctor McKay!” Robby yelled at her, but then it was quiet again.
You held your breath, not able to see, only listen to the fallout.
“She’s gonna be okay, it’s all gonna be okay.” Robby says, like it’s a prayer he’s put in. Like it’s something he can believe in right now.
“I want them to hurt, what kind of doctor am I? But fuck, I want them to hurt! YOU HEAR THAT ASSHOLES!” The fury in her statement is so real. If not the threat that could get her license taken away.
“Cassie, you have to breathe.” Langdon must now see Cassie’s panic attack face. Your girlfriend didn’t love people telling her what to do. So that instruction did not go over well.
From the dark room you close your eyes and can picture the face she’s giving him.
“No, no, no, you don’t understand. I told her I didn’t want to go to the bookstore! This is all my fault! I told her to go alone! What kind of girlfriend am I? I should be in that bed! Broken bones- I should be there! If I had been there none of this would have happened!” Cassie’s voice breaks, you hate this. The blame, the guilt, the shame of it all.
Your heart shatters, but what’s worse is that you hear two more voices.
“You can’t do that to yourself,” Dana insists, “she’s alive.”
This fact sits in the air for the doctors.
You blink sleepily in the empty room, as you listen to a conversation not for your ears.
Then another voice pipes in.
“And she kicked the hell out of those men. One of them lost both his testicles,” Baran reminded her. Robby and Langdon both chuckled, the image not lost on them.
You heard Cassie, sniffle, which must have meant she’d smiled at the idea.
Then Dana’s voice reminds them all; “her family have her now, we ain’t gonna let nothing happen to her.”
This comforts you and Cassie, it seems, the silence is long enough you fall back asleep in the dark room.
Confident that the toughest ER staff in the whole state stood outside your door.
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