#actually i think there will be a lot of sec shake ups

[the-physicality]

mock drafts are so silly rn. you don't know where people are and you won't know until march or december at least...

[churipu]

PERIOD COMFORT 𓆝 ⋆｡𖦹°‧

ִ ࣪𖤐 featuring. gojo satoru, itadori yuuji, nanami kento

ִ ࣪𖤐 warnings. period stuff, cramps, fluff.

note. new layout :> anyways, just reminding everyone that has sent in requests that my ask is only open to talk as of now and it will take a little long to have them out, but i assure you that everything in my inbox will be written! thank you

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

gojo didn't know how periods felt. so he looks up for things he could do to make you feel better — one time he actually considered buying one of the period cramps simulation machines because he didn't like seeing you in pain alone.

keyword: considered.

you had to drop the machine out of his trolley, and the male was definitely not happy about it. he tried arguing about it with you, saying how he's your 4lifer and he doesn't like seeing you in pain alone because of period cramps.

"satoru, 'm okay. i go through this every month, 'm not gonna die because of this." you tell him, handing his phone back.

gojo whines out, "but baby, i don't like seeing you in pain. i wanna be in pain with you," he shakes you back and forth gently.

but when you were content with your choice — he accepted begrudgingly. pouting out, refusing to speak to you for at least the next fifteen minutes because he couldn't stand being apart from you that long. so instead, he searched for what he could do to help.

"look, i got three chocolates, and i got you extra pads and tampons because tiktok told me to. and i got salonpas because i heard they can actually help with cramps," gojo presented proudly, "and then lastly, me. your amazing boyfriend."

you, previously, laying down on the couch, sat up slowly with a small smile at his attempt to help you with your period.

"thank you 'toru. this means a lot to me."

"i still think i should buy that machine though, baby."

𝐈𝐓��𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈 𝐘𝐔𝐔𝐉𝐈

he's confused. he knows about periods, but he didn't know it pained you. the young male was in a training session one morning when you called him, expecting a cheery greeting from you.

oh, he didn't. instead here you were, moaning out in pain, "yuuji, you busy?" he could vaguely make out a sharp hiss from the other line.

yuuji was indeed busy. but he told you, "no, no. are you okay? what happened?" he was in the middle of a hand-to-hand with megumi, instinctively raising his hand to stop — and megumi stopped immediately, knowing it was important for yuuji.

"period cramps . . . can you come over, please?" he was confused, tired, and sweaty. but he didn't care about that — the male was worried because were periods even supposed to hurt you?

"of course, baby. i'll be there in a sec." he ended the call and shot a look to kugisaki, "what the hell does period cramps mean, does your . . . you know, hurt or something?"

kugisaki had to give him a one minute lecture on what he should do, step by step. yuuji listened thoroughly, running to the nearest convenience store to get what kugisaki told him to: sweets, chocolates, pads and tampons, and your favorite snacks.

and it took him no longer than eight minutes to appear at your doorstep, knocking a couple of times. still sweaty and stinky, "y/n? it's me."

"door's unlocked."

he opened the door hastily, making sure not to drop any of the things he just bought. lightly sending a kick to the door to shut it, "hi baby, how are you feeling?"

"not good. i feel like 'm gonna die." you writhe out, curling into a ball on your bed. the male approached you, putting down the things, "you stink."

he chuckled, stroking your head, "'m gonna borrow your shower, and then cuddles?"

you nod, "please."

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

nanami is always ready. he just knows when your period is coming, hell, he's even more accurate than your period tracker application.

"i brought you chocolates and ice cream, and a heat pad for your cramps." nanami mumbles out, kicking his shoes off as he enters your house carrying a plastic bag.

"how did you know it was my period?"

"i remember it," that was better than any "i love you" or "i miss you".

the male's always ready to bring snacks, sweets, and heat pads for you. nanami will do what it takes to cease your period cramps since he knew he couldn't feel it like you did. he feels really awful: giving you back massages, head massages, kisses to your stomach.

he said he'd "kiss the pain better".

which actually works.

i think he knows your period schedule better than you do. he'd always remind you that your period's coming soon as a heads up, and you listen to him all the time. to the point you had to delete your application since it was pretty useless at this point.

"darling, your period's coming up soon."

"really? didn't i just finish last month's . . ?" you mumbled, a little annoyed that your schedule's coming up so fast.

"in a few days, if i'm guessing — three maybe?" he replies, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

[slamminslamminmcgill]

mm finally watched deadpool and wolverine today, and my god... 🥵 so many thoughts...

Idek which ones to put here. What do you think a p*ss kink would look like with both of them? Or just more of them making reader squirt their brains out.

The dialogue you write between them sounds so natural. Like I can literally read it in their voice. -🐮

LFGGGG thank y’all for giving me an excuse to talk abt this 🙏 i got more ideas but this post would’ve been WAYYYY too long sooo be on the lookout for more debauchery

warning: piss, anal, dp, dubcon, light degradation/humiliation, intox (alcohol for logan)

anatomical terms: cunt/pussy

as with most of the fucked up kinks y'all try in this polycule, it happens spontaneously the first time.

logan had just finished inside your ass, and out of the three of you, it takes him the longest to cum. it also takes a lot out of him. he roars and jams his claws through wade's temples (whoopsie! that's why your bed has red vinyl sheets hehe) so there's a dramatic break in the action afterwards.

"ah... hah... ngh, fuck..." he's panting, heaving almost, and slides out of your now gaping hole, "fuck, that was good..." he retracts his claws from wade’s skull, then purrs in your ear and smooches your neck, "good job, kid."

wade, still hard as steel in your cunt, claps excitedly for him. "yay! good job, YOU, peanut! UGH, i love watching you fill him up. you get so... beastly~."

you giggle, nuzzling into wade's tits, feeling goofy and content. a warm load up one hole, and a thick cock up the other.

logan smiles, kissing you on the back of your head this time. “you gonna be okay alone with him for a sec? i gotta go piss.”

"mhm!"

"'kay. i'll be right back, pumpkin." another kiss to your neck, and he's off, walking flaccidly to the bathroom, shaking his fuzzy cheeks.

you drop your head back down against wade’s chest and sigh, "i gotta piss too, actually."

"oh, yeah, yes you do, mister!" deadpool pats you on your shoulders, "always make sure to pee before, during, and after sex!"

you absentmindedly chuckle, until you realize what it is he just said, “wait… during?!"

"hey! thou shalt not knock what thou hast not tried!i know it sounds icky, but hear me out."

he thrusts upwards into you sharply

“fuck!!!”

“so! i want you to imagine…” *THRUST* “how good it’d feel…” *THRUST* “to be really filled up.” *THRUST* “and i mean FULL!” *THRUST* “like your pussy is a searing hot water balloon about to explode. and then when it does?” *THRUST* “when it all comes flooding out of you? oh darling, the relief…” he moans dramatically, gripping your hips and shifting you back and forth on his shaft, “hottest thing you’ll ever experience, i swear. there’s nothing else like it… wanna try it?”

you’re skeptical, but wade wilson is a hell of a salesman. “…fuck it. let’s do it.”

“yippee!!! okay, just gotta get soft so i can piss. dead kittens… calculus homework… grandma deadpool! there we go! okay… phew… here goes…”

it’s a tense, awkward silence as he starts. you’re not sure what to expect. then, you begin to feel it. that searing heat swelling inside you, pooling between his cock and your skin, flooding what little space there was inside you. you gasp, and attempt to squirm to cope with the sensation, but wade holds you still.

“don’t move! don’t move, my little urinal boy! mmm, i gotcha, just… just trust me on this… i’m almost done…”

“you two are fucking disgusting.”

logan’s voice coming out of nowhere makes you jump, and then wade’s piss spills out of you. and just like he told you, it feels fucking incredible. you’re twitching, spasming, moaning pure nonsense as wade fucks your drenched, desecrated cunt. loud splashing accompanies the brutal pace of his hips.

“your loss, peanut! imagine wasting your piss on the bathroom toilet when you could’ve given it to this even cuter toilet!” he pecks you on the cheek with a loud “mwah~!”

from then on, it becomes you and wade peeing on each other just to mess with him. since he’s never told y’all to stop, you both figure that he likes it, but he’s too embarrassed to admit it.

the three of y’all are showering together

“so, just asking as a throuple here, are we all pro- or anti-peeing in the shower?”

“if you get piss on me, i’ll stick my claws through your fucking corneas.”

“promise?!”

”don’t. you fucking. dare.”

“aw, boo, you’re no fun.” wade pouts, then grabs you by your wet hair and pulls your ear towards his lips. “you, though… you’re TONS of fun.” he playfully bites your ear, and then your neck. “so fun, in fact, that you’re gonna get on your knees and drink every drop of piss that i give you, right?”

i feel like the only time y’all can get logan to participate is while he’s drunk. he’s too sloshed to feel shame for it.

maybe y’all are in bed together, all cuddled up in a tangled mess of limbs, and he grumbles something about needing to take a leak.

“oh, don’t worry about getting up, honey-bun!” wade fishes under the blankets for logan’s soft cock, “lemme take care of that for you.”

“wh… the fuck are you talkin’ about?”

“ugh please, don’t act like you haven’t thought about pissing down my throat. can’t i just once do something nice for you?”

he grumbles, not wanting to indulge wade, but not wanting to get up even more.“fine. whatever. i hope you choke on it.”

“oh, i will.”

[babygirlboeser]

munch matt thoughts…

this man would LOVE going down on you. could live between your legs and will go for hours if you let him. he just wants to make you feel good and loves watching you fall apart for him. he’s always ready too, it would take literally nothing to get him going. i feel like you could just randomly walk into whatever room he’s in and say “matty i want head” and it might catch him off guard for a sec but he would NOT be asking questions. he actually finds it so hot when you’re straightforward like that, know what you want and aren’t afraid to communicate it. then he would practically be jumping up and dragging you to bed, or just scooping you up in his arms and carrying you to the bedroom and tossing you on the bed. or you’re pushing him down and climbing on top of him and riding his face. no matter what, if you’re ready he’s ready. this man would never pass up the opportunity. he just loves it.

head between your legs for hours and him making you cum so many times, “cmon baby you can give me one more.” he never wants to stop because he just loves seeing you all fucked out and whining his name.

PRAISE. from both of you. you’re literally just laying there but he keeps calling you good girl and telling you how good you taste. if he’s really going at it and overstimulating you he’d tell you you’re taking it so well, doing such a good job, “look so pretty like this”, etc. you’re of course also praising him, constantly reminding him how good he’s making you feel and that’s he’s so good at this. though between your gasps, moans, shaking legs and crying his name, he gets the point.

first time with him; whether he’s confident or nervous, he’s damn good at it. either he’s had lots of experience, or he’s just a fucking natural. as for the first time, on one hand i feel like he would be mr. confident right off the bat BUT i could potentially see it either way. maybe the first couple times he’s worried he’s not doing well because he just wants to please you but he doesn’t know your body yet. he’s constantly asking for reassurance and you can tell he’s nervous. you keep reminding him that it feels so good and praising him between moans. if he was nervous at all, well, between the praise, the sound of your moans, the way your thighs shake and clench around him, and the way you tug on his hair and grind against his face, it would not take long for him to become confident in his abilities.

like i said i could see him being confident right off the bat however if he wasn’t then just imagine after he eats you out for the first time and him looking up at you with those pretty doe eyes asking if he did okay and you’re just laying there trying to catch your breath and whimpering out a “y-yeah” like fuck yes u did okay was that not evident by the screaming your name and my whole body shaking?

he’s a fast learner. if you told him to do something differently or that you didn’t like something, he would listen and change what he’s doing right away. he just wants to do whatever is gonna make you feel best. i feel like communicating what you do and don’t like would be so easy with him and you would both learn each others bodies really fast.

moaning against your pussy and thighs. also kissing your inner thighs before and after he eats you out. whispering sweet things against your thighs like how beautiful you are, that he loves u, etc.

would 10000% wrap his arms around your legs to hold you in place, but how could you not squirm when he’s making you feel so good?

don’t even get me started on those long ass fingers fucking into you while he’s sucking on your clit.

FACESITTING. i cant even form a coherent thought about this. just. facesitting. and him grabbing your hips to hold you still and telling you to stop squirming. you cum so fast when you’re on his face. he looks so pretty underneath you and he thinks you look so pretty on top of him.

if you were being bratty he’s either pinning you down and pulling as many orgasms from you as he can or he’s just edging you for so long until you’re shaking and begging him to let you cum. he would love to hear you beg and whimper. ur an overstimulated mess but that’s your payment for giving him attitude. he of course does eventually give in and make you cum, he’ll never actually just leave you hanging, he loves you too much and wants you to feel good but he did have to have his fun with it first.

he would get so turned on just by your moans and knowing that he’s making you feel so good but man is practically finishing in his pants but you of course are always willing to return the favour and give him some mind blowing head but he’s already so worked up from pleasing you that he cums so fast the second you take him in your mouth.

i could honestly probably keep going but in conclusion matt is hot as fuck and would give you the best head of your life and there’s nothing he loves as much as he loves making you feel good.

ok this was supposed to be just a couple quick thoughts but i just couldn’t stop and literally sat here writing these for an hour i’m so sorry i’m omw to horny jail now bye

[cuubism]

a very silly story for you. johanna, dreamling's weird baby, and an accidental kidnapping (and subsequent rescue)

--

Johanna’s seen a lot of weird shit in her time. It comes with the territory. Magical shit also tends to be horrible shit which also tends to be weird shit. But even she is finding herself flummoxed by this one.

She’d broken into this flat prepared to perform an exorcism. Amateur occultist, planning to summon a demon? That’s what she’d heard, and yeah, that wasn’t going to go well. And it hadn’t—the guy was on fire when she arrived, so on fire that there was no way she could put it out or help him, though she had throne a blanket over him in a meager attempt. It was too late, though. He was charcoal in seconds.

That, while horrible, wasn’t even the weird part. The weird part was that there wasn’t even a demon, but there was a baby.

Sitting in the middle of the room, in a bird cage.

Johanna stares at it now, barely noticing the acrid smoke she’s still breathing in. Why the actual fuck is there a baby in a birdcage?

It doesn’t seem to be hurt at all. It’s just sitting there on a blanket at the bottom of the cage, clutching a little cat stuffed toy in its chubby fingers. But it’s in a birdcage. A bird cage.

Johanna goes to open the cage, of course she does—

And the moment she touches the latch she jumps back, shaking out her hand from the spark. Holy hell, that thing is warded to high heaven. That cage could probably keep a demon contained. Why is a baby warded like that? It’s just a human—

It.

It looks like a human baby.

Johanna circles the cage, more wary now. She should know better, should know that an occultist like that wouldn’t be carrying around a regular baby in a cage. Even if you’re a real sicko, you don’t need a cage to keep hold of a baby. It can’t even walk.

So it’s not a regular baby. Sure looks like one, though. Makes the hair on the back of her neck stand up, that does.

As Johanna looks more closely at the wards, the baby watches her with wide eyes, sucking on its thumb. It’s actually pretty cute. It’s even wearing a star-print onesie. The wards are hardcore, though. Nothing’s getting in, and certainly nothing is getting out.

“Either you’re some fucked up thing disguised as a baby,” she muses out loud, “or you’re an actual little baby fucked up thing, which means your fucked up nightmare mummy is going to come looking for you.”

The baby blurbles in agreement.

Either way, she can’t exactly take it to the authorities. Which means she’s going to have to take the baby home, at least for now.

“Fuck me,” Johanna says, and picks up the cage.

--

The baby is silent on the drive home—buckled awkwardly into the back seat of the car—and remains so as Johanna puts the cage down on the floor of her living room. It watches her with big eyes, sucking its thumb. It doesn’t seem particularly afraid, though Johanna can’t imagine being in a cage is very pleasant, even for a baby that probably doesn’t understand what’s going on anyway.

Or who knows, maybe it does. Jo doesn’t really know much about babies’ development trajectories.

“Right,” she says, looking at it with hands on her hips. “I’m not really looking to become a mum, so we’ll have to get you out of there and back where you belong. Fuck if I know where that is.”

The baby makes a gurgling sound that could be agreement or just gassiness.

Johanna gets out some chalk and starts to draw a containment array around the cage. “Sorry about this, little chap,” she says, “but I still don’t know what you are. Better safe than sorry, eh?”

The baby is silent, watching her.

Johanna finishes the containment circle, binding it off with a final rune. It’s not so mean of a ward as the cage had. Just enough to keep the baby from exploding with power once she does break the cage open. If that’s something it can even do.

She studies the ward. “Think I can pick this lock,” she says to herself. “Take me a sec, though. Don’t suppose you want a beer while you wait?” This to the baby. “I haven’t got any formula. Or are you old enough for baby food?”

The baby just sucks on its thumb. It really does seem quite sweet. Shame about secretly being a monstrosity in a cage, and all.

Johanna works on the ward, occasionally chatting out loud to the baby. It doesn’t reply, obviously, but it listens. Johanna is feeling more invested in getting it back to its parents the longer she sits with it. Even if it is some gross creature, it doesn’t deserve to be in a birdcage. It’s just a baby.

“Good trick we met each other, my friend,” she says as she finally unravels the last bit of the warding. “Doubt that guy had good plans for his captured baby.”

She clicks open the ward.

As soon as she does, the formerly placid baby starts screaming. And Johanna realizes that part of the ward’s function had been to stop it from crying for help.

“Mama!” the baby wails, tears pooling in its eyes, little fists scrunched tight around its plushy’s legs. “MammaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!”

Its voice warbles outside the normal sound range and straight into her brain, ringing like a bell. She covers her ears, but it doesn’t help. Great, now the thing’s mother is going to show up and eat her. This is what she gets for trying not to be a total asshole for once. Should’ve opened the cage in the street and fled.

“Shhhhhh,” she tries to soothe the baby, “it’s okay—” But it’s too late. And Johanna isn’t a very soothing person anyway. It probably wouldn’t have worked, even if the room hadn’t been plunged into sudden darkness.

Johanna stumbles back, though she can see nothing. Thunder and static ripple through the air, cold wind tangles her hair. Jo claps her hands over her ears as the air pressure increases and increases and—

The baby squeals, and it sounds happy now, rather than afraid. “Mama!!”

A voice scraped from the utter depths of mental torment booms through her flat.

C  O  N  S  T  A  N  T  I  N  E

Ah, fuck.

“Morpheus,” she tries, because she does recognize that voice, unfortunately, “listen—”

A wall of sand knocks her backwards.

As it does, some light returns to the flat, and she can see Morpheus, looking markedly less pathetic than when she’d last encountered him, standing in the center of the living room, looking down at the baby. His eyes flash with otherworldly light. His sand rushes around him, scrapes through the binding circle she’d drawn like it’s nothing but chalk, dissolves the birdcage to nothing, plays with the baby’s curls and pools in the crevices of its onesie. Meanwhile, it flattens Johanna against the wall, wraps in winding strands of wind around her chest and squeezes.

The baby reaches for Morpheus, who kneels and picks it up. He says something to the baby, the words low and solemn but inaudible over the rushing sand, then holds it close to his chest.

Then his gaze turns to Johanna.He looks murderous. Johanna had thought he’d been pissed off about his sand. She hadn’t seen even a tenth of it.

“I guess you’re mama?” she says, past the sand squeezing around her chest. This really is just the kind of stupid thing that would happen to her.

Morpheus’s eyes are like black holes in his pale face. “Constantine,” he growls, with much of the same danger as before, though at lower volume. “I thought we had parted on neutral terms. More fool I. What grudge do you still hold against me?” The sand squeezes her tighter. “Speak quickly, for your time is limited.”

“There’s no grudge, I have nothing to—”

“Ransom, then?” says Morpheus, seeming, if possible, more angry. “You would compel favors from me by threatening a child?” He clutches the baby to his chest. It’s started chewing on the lapel of his coat. The whole picture would be kind of hilariously adorable if she weren’t on the verge of being torn apart by nightmares.

“I’m not responsible for this!” Johanna insists. “Consult your stalker encyclopedia of all minds if you have to. You really think I’m going around kidnapping infants?”

“I think,” says Morpheus, each syllable a new threat, “that you must explain why you had my daughter in a cage. NOW. And count yourself fortunate I have granted you the mercy of an explanation.”

“I literally just found her!” Johanna says. Doesn’t she deserve even a little bit of good faith? She did help with the sand and all. Morpheus’s eyes narrow as if he does not believe her. “Look. Caught wind of this amateur guy messing around with occult stuff. Thought he’d summoned a demon so I went to exorcise it. Found this baby instead.”

“And what of this man?” says Morpheus in a tone that suggests exactly what will soon become of him.

“He was practically dead by the time I got there. Burned alive.” She shudders. She still hasn’t figured out exactly what was going on there, if he’d meant to summon Morpheus’s baby in the first place—ill-advised choice, that—or if it was a spell gone wrong. “‘Fraid you’re too late to torment him.”

“Hmm,” rumbles Morpheus, with evident displeasure, but the sand finally releases Johanna and she sways, standing on her own feet again. Morpheus doesn’t apologize for throwing her against the wall. “You will show me where you found her.”

“Sure, mate,” Johanna says, sucking in a wheezing breath. “Might want to get your baby home first, though.”

Morpheus doesn’t get a chance to respond. Behind Johanna, the front door bursts open— bursts off its fucking hinges, goddammit, now she’ll have to get that fixed— and a man runs through. A very ordinary man, except that he’s carrying a sword. An actual, medieval-looking sword. And in a way that suggests he knows how to use it, too.

He looks almost as murderous as Morpheus, except that no one can quite match Morpheus’s shadows-and-cataclysm level of murder. Evidently, Johanna found the most radioactive baby in all the occult world. But at least it has people that care about it. That’s nice, she supposes.

As soon as he sees Morpheus with the baby across the room, he relaxes, sheathing the sword in a scabbard strapped to his back. “Ah, love. You found her.”

“Dadaaaaaa!!!!” yells the baby with its piercing voice, reaching for him. And the man smiles, striding past Johanna and taking the baby from Morpheus, leaning in to kiss Morpheus on the cheek as he does.

“Hob,” says Morpheus, with a little smile that finally breaks his stormy countenance. “Yes. She called for me when she was able.”

“Good lass,” says Hob, kissing the baby on the forehead, then looks warily at Johanna.

“Ms. Constantine is not responsible,” says Morpheus, and ‘Hob’—his partner? Coparent? Johanna’s not sure she even wants to know—relaxes further.

“Great. Glad we’ve established that. How the hell did you find my flat.” This she demands of Hob.

Hob reaches into the back of the baby’s onesie and plucks a small disc off the collar; he shows it to her with a little wave, then slips it in his pocket.

“Is that an AirTag?”

“We aren’t all plugged into the whole collective unconscious.” He taps the baby on the nose fondly, and she giggles, grabbing at his finger. “And you’re Dada’s little flight risk, aren’t you?”

Johanna sighs, finally flopping down on the couch now that it seems she’s unlikely to get swept away to nightmare-land. She definitely needs a beer after this. “You have a baby?” she says to Morpheus.

“Evidently,” he says flatly. So much for getting answers on that.

“Have we gone after the person who was responsible?” asks Hob. Johanna thinks he means it to come out mildly but it doesn’t, really.

“Already got set on fire, mate,” Jo tells him. “Found him like that.”

“Set on fire?” says Hob with a frown. “Was the rest of the room on fire?”

As a matter of fact, it wasn’t. Which is strange.

Silently, she shakes her head, and Hob turns back to the baby. Now he’s grinning. “Did the bad man wish for power?” he says, in a baby-talk voice, bouncing the baby in his arms. “Did he? And did my little Sparkle take that literally and turn him into a lightbulb?” As a conspiratorial aside to Johanna, he says, “She loves electricity.”

“Sparkle?” she says. “She’s a baby, not a My Little Pony.”

“That is a nickname,” says Morpheus, with a sideways glance at Hob that suggests he finds it questionable at best. “She is Wish.” He says this in the same way he might say I am Dream, rather than my name is Dream.

A moment later, Johanna learns where the nickname came from, as Wish giggles and taps at Hob’s face, sparks dancing around her fingertips. Sparkle. Jesus.

“She does not yet have a firm grasp on her abilities,” says Morpheus.

Wish. Half-Endless baby. Kidnapper set on fire. Jo thinks she gets it now. She shivers.

“You have sworn to show me where you found her,” Morpheus reminds her. Sworn. Does he have to be so dramatic?

Jo sighs, but heaves herself up from the couch. “Yep. Alright. So long as you promise to keep better track of that monkey’s paw baby of yours.”

Morpheus bristles, but Hob just chuckles. “This is the easy part. Wait ’til she gets better at flying.”

He doesn’t appear to be joking. “Don’t envy you,” Johanna says. Then grudgingly admits, “She is cute, though.”

Hob beams.

Morpheus is still fixated on her. Johanna can read the demand without him having to voice it. “What, you’re gonna bring the baby along on the revenge mission?” she asks.

They both just look at her. Neither moves to take Wish home.

“Figures,” Johanna says, with a sigh. This is what she gets for not choosing a more normal profession. She opens the front door and gestures them on. “Fine, then. Let’s go.”

[eddieandbird]

Irresponsible—

Your neighbor, Eddie, introduces you to his cat.

tags/warnings: fluff | 1.4k words | genderless reader | cat/pet mention

———

With a flick of your keys in the ignition, you switch off your car, continuing to hum the song that was recently played on the radio. You got out, then shut the car door with your hip. You were going to head inside the house, but your steps were halted by the sound of a high-pitched whistle.

“Hey, kid!” A low voice called out to you from across the street.

Eddie stood there in his driveway leaning up against his van. He slowly waved and clapped his hands together as he pushed himself off the van door.

“Can I talk to you for a sec?” His head gestured toward his trailer, beckoning you to come over.

You raised a brow and then approached him, your arms folded across your chest. You had been Eddie’s neighbor for a couple of years and you’d hardly said a thing to each other, even in the hallway at school.

“Yeah, sure. What’s up, Munson?” You nodded, shoving your hands in your pockets.

“Is that orange cat yours?” Eddie pointed back to your porch.

Sure enough there your cat was, stretched out and laying on the front steps. You pouted at the little guy, thinking he looked so sweet taking in the warmth of the late afternoon sun.

“Oh yeah, that’s Arthur,” You chuckled. “Why?”

“I got something you might wanna see,”

You followed Eddie up to the trailer door and waited at the bottom step. He quickly dipped inside and returned with a cat in his arms, its body mostly tucked into his denim vest.

“This little girl is Scarlet,” He smiled wryly as he showed her off.

“Hi Scarlet,” You gasped softly as you leaned in to pet her head. You could feel your heart melting as you looked at her, the black ball of fluff she was with two giant green eyes peering from out of the fur. Eddie chuckled as he watched you interact with Scarlet, her tail flicking happily from the attention. He hadn’t seen her be this responsive in a couple of days, but he chopped it up to her seeing someone other than him and Wayne.

“She’s a real sweetheart,” he murmured, giving her head scratches. The cat glanced at you with big curious eyes then returned to her owner.

“She looks like trouble,”

“More like a headache,” Eddie smirked. “She keeps me up at night, I tell ya.”

“Yeah, Arthur is quite the menace too. As you can see, he prefers patrolling the house rather than staying inside in his comfy cat bed I spent way too much money on,” You shook your head, pointing back to him with your thumb.

“Yeah about that…” Eddie’s words were hesitant and elongated. “That’s actually why I wanted you to meet Scarlet. She likes wandering outside a lot too, but recently I noticed she’s been all weird and clinging to my side and well-”

Eddie held Scarlet up before him, letting her feet dangle underneath her. The position of the animal revealed that she wasn’t simply abnormally fluffy as you thought, but her belly was also extended.

“Oh, no fucking way,” Your voice was strained with shock.

Eddie awkwardly nodded, his gaze shifting between you and Scarlet. He gently pushed her belly to show how just round it was. You pinched the bridge of your nose in response.

“Yep,” He beamed, a hint of amusement in his voice. “She’s pregnant.” He then shifted her in his arms so she could lay back down comfortably.

“She hasn’t been eating as much lately either,” he went on. “I think she’s due any day now.”

“Jesus Christ,” You scoffed, shaking your head.

Your head whipped back to glare at your cat who was peacefully snoozing away, his head resting on the stair railing. It was ridiculous to be annoyed with him for this, but you found yourself a bit disgruntled anyway.

“Arthur, you slut!” You yelled as if he was able to feel shame. You sighed after your fit of laughter died down. “Listen, I really apologize for my irresponsible cat,”

A light flush dusted your cheeks as you held them in shock and horror. You knew this was a thing that all animals did, but you still could not believe that this had happened to you and a neighbor. Eddie smirked at your flustered state, his eyes crinkling with amusement.

“Hey, it takes two, you know,” he lifted Scarlet to his face and kissed the top of her head.

“It’s not just your cat that’s an irresponsible dumbass.”

He set Scarlet back down on the ground and she quickly sauntered over to rub against your legs, purring softly. You crouched down to run your fingers through her dark hair, a wry smile playing on your lips.

“What are we going to do, Scarlet, huh? We can’t have a dozen mini black and orange devils running around here. You guys will take over the whole trailer park,” You babbled, sighing when you felt her rubbing up against your calf.

“We can’t keep them all, right?” You asked him with a suspicious squint. You needed him to agree with you.

Eddie seemed like a guy with a good head on his shoulders, but you also knew he had a reputation for creating trouble himself. It was almost concerning how many times you would peek out your front window and see him stomping out a fire or falling off of his roof.

To your relief, Eddie gave a disapproving look, crossing his arms and shaking his head.

“Hell no, we can’t keep them all,” he declared.

He leaned back against the wall of the trailer, rocking his cat back and forth.

“As much as I love my little demon-” He began with a huff. “The idea of having a bunch of kittens running around? Sounds like a nightmare. That’s way too much chaos, even for me.”

He scratched the back of his neck. It was as if Scarlet knew she was being talked about as she trotted her way back inside the trailer.

“You got that right. We barely have a grip on the cats we have now,” You zoned out for a moment, picturing the scene and shivering at the thought. “I guess we gotta figure out what to do with the kittens before Scarlet pops. What do people even do when their cats are pregnant?”

Eddie shrugged, his mind suddenly blank.

“Dunno,” he said, then gave himself a small whack to the head. “I knew I should’ve picked up a book from the vet or something. All I’ve done is feed her extra and give her extra cuddles.”

He frowned, clearly frustrated. You found it kind of endearing that he joined you in your turmoil. The situation was as humorous as it was vexing.

“What about you, kid?” He raised a curious brow. “Any suggestions?”

You shrugged back, a frown creeping up on your mouth. “Well first, I’m taking Arthur to get fixed. I had no idea he wasn’t. He was a stray I took in at my last place,”

Guilt fell heavy on your mind as you recalled lying to your parents about where you actually found Arthur. You had told them it was given to you by an old friend, but really you found him sniffing around some dumpsters at the mall.

“Maybe we can ask around town if anyone is interested in newborn kittens?” You looked up at him, scratching your forehead.

Eddie nodded along as you spoke, mulling over the idea of giving away the kittens. He had a soft spot for animals but knew that keeping them all just wasn’t an option.

“That’s a good idea,” he agreed. “Let’s put up some flyers or something. See if we can find good homes for them.”

“Sounds good to me,” You nodded.

“Awesome. I’ll grab some supplies tomorrow. You wanna come over and make the flyers with me?” Eddie asked, looking hopeful with his wide eyes and raised brows.

Your mouth hung open in shock for a second. “Yeah? Yeah. Tomorrow. I’ll definitely stop by,”

Your voice was breathy, sounding completely foreign to you. You cleared your throat. Eddie perked up at your agreement, a boyish grin slowly spreading across his face.

“Cool,” he said in a tone that tried to mask his excitement. “Just come over whenever. I’m pretty much free all day after school.”

He tilted his head, observing you closely. Your sudden change in demeanor didn’t go unnoticed, but he chose not to comment on it. Instead, he smiled slyly.

“Looking forward to it, kid.”

“Me too,”

[rubyreduji]

reading and doing — ljh

summary: jihoon catches you reading fanfic about him

tags: smut (minors dni!), gn!reader, idol!jihoon, pre-established relationship, lowkey crack warnings: badly written dirty talk, small dick jihoon <3, explicit unprotected sex, dom(ish) jihoon, choking, restraint for a sec, spit used as lube, fingering, rough sex, fingers in mouth, creampie wc: 2.3k an: a meta ass fanfic. i tried to keep it gn so pls don’t mention the use of certain words okay bye

Woozi thrusts his thick, large juicy cock into your soaking wet pussy and you squeal in delight.

A giggle escapes from your throat as you read the sentence. You will never not be amused by how people like to describe Jihoon’s dick in their writing.

“What’s so funny over there?” Jihoon asks as he turns his desk chair to look at you where you sit on his studio couch. 

“Oh nothing,” you tell him, a small grin still plastered on your face. 

Jihoon knows better than that and stands up and walks over to you. Before you can react Jihoon plucks your phone out of your hand and looks at what you were reading. A look of confusion mixed with disgust appears on his face.

“What is this?”

You snatch your phone back from him. “Fanfiction. About you specifically.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means Carats write stories about you, usually about you and them being a couple. The stuff I read is mostly sex stories, but some of the slice of life stuff is cute too,” you explain with a shrug.

“Sex stories?!” Jihoon now looks more worried than anything else.

“Yeah, they’re kinda funny. Everyone thinks you have a big dick.” You know your boyfriend isn’t insecure about his size, whether it’s his height or…other parts of him, but you still like to playfully tease him every once in a while.

“I don’t know why the Carats would want to write something like that.”

“It lets them be delusional about being with you, let them have it Jihoonie.”

“It sounds like something Mingyu would like. You know how he is about fan interactions.”

“Oh there’s a lot for Mingyu!” You tell Jihoon. “I don’t read them though of course, I only read yours.”

“That I also don’t get. Why even read them when you have the real thing.”

“Because it’s fun! I like to see how people characterize you. The one I’m reading is just for shits and giggles, but some of them are actually good. Here.” You scroll on your phone until you find your folder of saved fics and pull up one of your favorites.

Jihoon takes your phone from you and reads a couple of lines before scrunching up his face and shaking his head. “I still don’t get it. You can’t actually find stuff like this hot.”

“I don’t know, it kind of is. I know you better than anyone else so I can just put you in those situations. It’s fun. I read them when you’re away on tour.”

This gets another dramatic look out of Jihoon. “You do not.”

“I miss you okay! And you’re always busy so I just go to the next best thing. If it makes you feel better sometimes I’ll also put on Ruby when I’m masturbating and just listen to that to get off.”

“Okay and now this conversation has taken a whole new turn.”

You giggle. “C’mon Hoonie, just read this with me. It’ll be fun! Maybe you’ll even find you like them.”

“I’m not sure how I’ll find enjoyment in reading what someone else has written about me.”

“You need to take a break anyways, please!” You give him your best puppy dog eyes and Jihoon glares at you but sits down on the couch.

“I don’t even know why I’m doing this,” he grumbles.

“Because you love me. And you’re secretly curious.”

Jihoon moves so your body is between his legs, your back leaning against his front. His head rests on your shoulder as you hold the phone up to read the fic. 

“This is technically a few chapters into a series but I really enjoy the smut so if the plot doesn’t make sense, don’t mind it.”

“Y/N this ridiculous-”

“Shhh, just read.” 

Jihoon listens to you and you can tell he is actually reading the fic from the small grunts he lets out in reaction to the story. There’s a bit of plot at the start before it gets into the smut and Jihoon stops you at a moment when you can scroll to it.

“Do people really like this? They want to see me in these situations?”

“Oh come on Jihoon you know what the fans think of you. You can’t be totally oblivious. You read your comments and I know you have a burner Twitter.”

Jihoon doesn’t have a rebuttal for that and you smile knowing you’re right. 

“Y/N I really do have work I need to-”

“Wait no, this is the good part.” You lean all of your body weight on Jihoon so he can’t get up, even though you know realistically he’s strong enough to displace you if he really wanted to. Jihoon just huffs and allows you to keep him hostage.

You try not to giggle as you read the smut, especially because you can tell Jihoon is invested. The smut in the fanfic that you picked isn’t anywhere near how Jihoon actually acts in bed and you wish you could see his face to see if he’s either intrigued or disgusted.

“Do people actually think I’m this mean?” Jihoon finally says and you laugh.

“Some people. You can be kinda mean sometimes. I think on camera you come off as standoffish,” you say. “But a lot of people think you’re sweet too. Also people are just kinky like that and enjoy this stuff.”

“Do you? You know I’m nothing like this.”

“I think you’re perfect the way you are. Don’t think me reading this stuff is me actually wanting you to be like this, I just think it’s fun to picture you in different scenarios. I mean, if people wrote smut about me would you want to read it?”

“I don’t know, I’ve never thought about it, because that’s weird to think about,” Jihoon grunts.

“Getting defensive there Hoonie?”

“Just shut up and go back to reading,” Jihoon grumbles.

“Oh you want to go back to reading? So you like it?”

“I just want you to shut up.” 

You do shut up, but only because you want Jihoon to continue reading.

The fic is getting to your favorite part when things start to get really intense. You have to give props to the writer for really going in. You know that you would never be able to find such…colorful language to use to describe the things you and Jihoon get up to.

You can feel Jihoon shift behind you. A small smirk spreads on your face when you feel the smallest bit of bulge press into your lower back. Jihoon likes this. 

“You okay back there Jihoonie?” You wiggle your hips a bit and Jihoon lets out a huff that you’re pretty sure is hiding a moan. “Enjoying this?”

“No.” His voice sounds tense and he answered a little too quickly to not be suspicious.

“It’s okay if you do Ji. It’s a bit of an ego boost isn’t it? Knowing all these people find you’re hot. I know this fic is particularly well liked, it has nearly three thousand interactions on it, and then all of the people who have read it without interacting. Do you like that? Three thousand people want to fuck you Hoonie.”

“I-I don’t-”

“Even if you don’t find that hot, isn’t the actual story kind of sexy? Just imagine it’s you and me in this scenario. Don’t you wanna be tangled up together as you fuck my brains out?”

“Y/N,” Jihoon whines. “Stop.”

“Stop? Stop what? Teasing you? No, I think you like it, just like how you liked the fanfic. Doesn’t it sound fun? Don’t you wanna do mean things to me while telling me how pretty I am?”

“Th-”

“Admit it baby, you like thinking about putting your big, fat cock into me.” You know you’re taking a gamble with your choice of words but it seems to work because Jihoon finally breaks.

You feel Jihoon’s hand come up around your neck and slam your body back into his. “Maybe I do.” His mouth is right next to your ear and you have to admit you do let out a shudder. “You want me to do mean things to you?”

“I think you want to do mean things to me.”

“Maybe I do, what then?”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

That’s all Jihoon needs to flip you both over, position himself over you. You definitely were not expecting to awaken a new kink in Jihoon when you told him to read the fic with you, but you’re definitely not complaining.

Jihoon keeps his loose grip around the base of your neck as he leans down to lock his lips with yours. The kiss is harsh and hurried and it doesn’t take long for Jihoon to stick his tongue in your mouth. He licks at your mouth and you arch your body into his.

His body rests between your legs and you can feel him grind down against you, his dick already fully hard. Jihoon’s mouth pops off of yours with a loud smacking sound. His hand moves off of your neck and trails down your body before it makes it to the hem of your shirt. He pushes his hand up under it, his fingertips making contact with the warm skin of your stomach.

He rubs his palm over your waist before moving higher to grope at your chest. His finger flicks over your nipple and you moan. Jihoon chuckles at this.

“Clothes off,” he growls as he pulls away from you. You quickly comply, stripping down to nothing as Jihoon does this same.

His cock is already slick with pre-cum at the tip and you have the urge to get on your knees and suck him off. Jihoon doesn’t allow this though, as he pushes you back onto the couch. You’re definitely worked up yourself by now and Jihoon can tell.

“Needy little thing, aren’t you?”

“You’re one to talk,” you bit back. 

“Ah, but I’m the one in control here.” Jihoon grabs your wrists and pins them above your head. “Aren’t I?”

“Hoon-ah, please,” you beg.

“Please what?”

“Please fuck me.”

Jihoon grins. “Glady.”

Jihoon lets go of your hands and brings his fingers up to his lips. You watch as he spits on the digits before moving them down to play with your entrance. You buck your hips into his hand and Jihoon uses his other hand to push them back down.

After what feels like an eternity of teasing Jihoon finally pushes one finger into you and you let out a mewl. Jihoon pumps it in and out of you until you start to loosen up and then he shoves another one into you. He continues to do this over again until you’re finally adequately opened up.

“Ready for me?”

You nod and Jihoon lines his cock up to you and pushes in. It’s a comfortable, familiar feeling as Jihoon starts to rock his hips into you. Jihoon is buried balls deep into you when he grabs your leg and hikes up over his shoulder.

Whereas Jihoon is usually soft and slow with you, he’s now fast and hard as he slams his cock into you deeper and deeper. Jihoon has always been an adequate lover, but now you get what people mean by it’s not the size but how it’s used.

Jihoon locks one of his hands around your thigh, digging his fingertips into the fat there. You’re sure you’re going to bruise later, but you don’t care right now. His other hand reaches down and cups your jaw. His thumb swipe over your lower lip before pressing down.

“You right, you do look pretty like this,” Jihoon smirks down at you. This thumb presses harder into your bottom lip until Jihoon finally pushes it all the way into your mouth, pushing down on your tongue. “Next time I’m going to tie you up and make you choke on my cock.”

You whine around Jihoon’s thumb at the image. It’s a good thing Jihoon is blocking you from saying anything because you’re sure if you tried it would just be utter nonsense.

With the way Jihoon is cramming up your g-spot you know you’re not going to last much longer. Luckily it seems like Jihoon is close as well from the concentration displayed on his face.

“Fuck, gonna cum inside, yeah?” You just nod the best you can.

You’re expecting Jihoon to cum first, but your climax creeps up on you and suddenly your legs are shaking as your back arches up off the couch. Your eyes roll back into your head as you let out a wanton moan.

Seeing you fucked out thorougly makes Jihoon spill over the edge finally, his warm cum spilling into you. He stays in you for a moment to catch his breath. He leans down to press kisses to your bare shoulder, nipping at the skin as he does.

Once you two finally have recovered, Jihoon slowly pulls out of his. You can feel his cum slide out of you as he does and it makes you whimper a bit.

“You were so good for me,” Jihoon coos.

“So you liked it?” You grin at him.

He defeatedly nods. “Yeah, yeah I did.”

“Yay! See Hoonie, look at all the doors this has opened. Maybe we should read more fanfiction together.”

“No, nope. We discovered this one thing, no more.” With that Jihoon gets up to go get you some water and a rag to clean up with.

Despite his final protests, you still feel victorious as you grab your phone and scroll down to the comments of the fic you two were reading.

You’re not going to understand this, but thank you SO MUCH for writing this fic, you’re the best &lt;3

taglist: @pandorashbox @leejihoonownsmyheart @soonhoonietrash @chaimi-yuta @embrace-themagic @kayleeshinee @joonsytip @heyxxitsxxtay @synthetickitsune @chwecardcaptor @candidupped @dreamhannies @d0nghyck @niyizh @baldi-2 @enhacolor @noniestars @heavenly-mobo @sunnyteume @debsworld23 @m1nghaos @just-here-to-read-01 @blxckswxnxge @17kwans @jeanjacketjesus @x-veex @namjoonbaby @ovai @belladaises @todorokiskitten @jihoonliker @valentxi @1694 @niktwazny303 @brxzilianbaby @moshiyuron @im-gemmy @honeylovemoon @wonchansbrooklynn @opwolfe @luvthatleader-nim @cbgisland @lorde-oftherings @hoeforcheol @hotricewoozi @prpldahy @nox-writes @wujihoons @0717luv @yeosayang @marzmeltdown @calvinkleinhoon

join my taglist: here!

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

Excessive Force : Tom Ludlow x Fem Nurse Reader (COLLAB W/ THE INCREDIBLE @johnwickb1tsch) - Chapter One Two Three Four

TW: sexual harassment, no means yes, asshole doctors/doctor slander (sorry if you’re an actual good doctor), mentions of alcoholism/sickness, burns

You should probably decide to do whatever the opposite of man up is-pussy down?-and specifically request to not have Officer Ludlow ever be on your patient roster again. He’s bad for your health and, despite being the one always putting him back together, you’re bad for his, too. 

You’re trying not to morally question yourself about why you didn’t do something after the first, second, or hell, even third time he borderline sexually harassed you…  You’re trying not to think too much about why you don’t do it now: open the manager’s door with your shaking, clammy hand and say “hey, creepy patient, please keep him away from me”. It would be so easy. This stuff happens a lot to the other staff in the ED, and always gets solved without a problem. 

You don’t do it, though. You walk away without blacklisting Tom Ludlow. And doesn’t that just say mountains about you. But, anyway, you have your own job to do fighting disease and trauma from the mean streets of the City of Angels, so you don’t really have time for all this petty drama bullshit. 

Whatever helps you sleep at night.

You’re not really sure how it’s possible, after eight years of higher education plus residency training, but doctors really can be idiots sometimes. 

“Discharge, really?” You whisper to yourself, clicking on the order to see if it’s just a mistake-nope, legit. 

You grab the clipboard from your patient’s bedside and go hunt down Dr. Mercer, who is currently standing at the desk flipping through paperwork. 

“Hey, Julian, can I have a quick second?”

He gives you one of his signature, charming white smiles that can calm almost any belligerent patient down. “Of course. Anything for my favorite nurse.” He motions for you to sit in the swivel chair, and takes the one opposite from you. 

Julian makes it a point to give you his full attention, and that never fails to fluster you, but you can shoulder through it most of the time. The man is too handsome for his own good, and you haven’t found a female in this hospital immune to his charm-even Shelby, the housekeeper who is strictly attracted to women… and one man: Dr. Mercer. 

“You put in a discharge order for room 13?” 

“Hmm, one sec.” He leans over to click through the computer, then turns back. “Yes, is there a problem?”

“Well, I thought we would be admitting him?” 

“No, that won’t be necessary. He’s free to go home.” 

“Julian.” You’ve known this man for a whole year and should not be this hesitant about questioning a single order from him, but you take a big pause nonetheless. Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem; any other doctor you could confront with ease, but Julian is so, so nice and he always gets your Starbucks order right and never lets you pay him back for it. You don’t want to be a dick to such a sweet person. “I don’t think he’s ready to be discharged. He’s a heavy drinker and his potassium is still low. Plus, he lives alone.” 

“His potassium is only one point off, y/n. And the rest of his labs look good. I can’t keep someone for alcoholism.”

Well, the good thing is that you’re not hesitant anymore, just really pissed, because obviously Dr. Mercer’s kindness and understanding doesn’t extend to his less fortunate patients. 

“Wow, that’s not okay, Julian.”

His smile fades a little bit, or just turns mean, you can’t really tell which, and he sighs. “I’m sorry, I’m very busy. If this conversation is about morals, I’m afraid I don’t have time for it.” 

“It’s not about morals.” You try to lasso your anger, but it seeps into the tone of your voice like a hiss. “I’m concerned about patient safety, and his potassium is just going to drop further if we send him back to drink himself to death. And then he’ll have a heart attack.” 

“I treat current conditions. I can’t focus on what-ifs.” He tries to put his hand atop yours, but you pull back. 

All doctors are the same? What a shocker. You haven’t met even one who didn’t eventually do this shit, and Julian is no different despite your burgeoning hope that he was. 

“I’m not giving him that paperwork,” you say. “I’m not discharging him.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I’m not doing it.”

“We need to free up the bed for patients who need it.” 

“Do it yourself, then.” 

His smile falls the whole way down, and you can’t find it in your bleeding heart to care.

You need to get away from him before you say something that will make him want to get you your usual coffee order and then spit in it, but he grabs your forearm gently before you can. 

“Y/n-“

“I told you I’m not discharging him.” He lets you pull back. “And I really don’t have time for this.” 

***

You should just let it go, but by the time your break comes around, you are still quietly seething over Dr. Mercer’s idiotic order, and the way he fucking talked to you. 

You’ve come a long way, but sometimes when a man talks down to you with that certain tone, you still see red. 

Maybe it’s a character flaw, but after the hell you’ve lived through, you can’t help but feel entitled to some righteous feminine rage.

You’re alone in the little side nook with its hard plastic chairs that almost hurt you more than standing. But your feet need a break, so while you massage your foot your tailbone suffers.

You need a massage. A real, full-body rub-down–why is it, that the thought calls up the memory of a certain large, strong, calloused pair of hands that may or may not belong to a certain inappropriate officer of the law?

It’s possible you are staring into space, fantasizing about burning dark eyes unabashedly boring into yours as those mitts for hands–

A soft knock on the doorjamb pulls you back to the present–and the last person you want to see is taking up the whole doorway. It takes every iota of self-control you have left not to snarl, What do you want?

“Doctor?” You even put extra sugar into your tone, which he seems to sense is utterly manufactured judging by his awkward smile.

“Y/n.”

You wait silently, allowing the lift of one eyebrow that you fear conveys all your disdain. “I believe I owe you an apology.”

You blink, certain you misheard. 

“I’m sorry?”

“You were right. The patient was not ready for discharge.”

You blink again. Has hell warmed over? “I know,” you finally answer, which for some reason makes him smile. He takes the liberty to cross the room to sit down next to you, with only one plastic chair between you. 

“It took some courage to stand up to me. Well done.”

Dr. Julian Mercer is TV doctor hot–tall, broad shouldered, handsome. His thin scrubs do very little to conceal his lithe, athletic body underneath, and everyone in the hospital loves to titter about him as he breezes by. You’re not exactly immune to his charms, but failing to advocate for a patient for fear of displeasing him wouldn’t have even occurred to you.

“I just want what's best for my patients.” That, at least, is the truth. 

The good doctor nods, his longish hair swinging into his eyes. Maybe you do feel the slightest urge to brush it away. 

“Truly commendable, y/n.” Then he points at your foot, and makes a come hither gesture with his fingers.

You don't understand what he wants, and your face shows it. 

“Is your foot hurting you?”

Perpetually, is the answer, but you just nod dumbly.

“Give it here.”

“Why?”

His smile is gentle as spring rain. “I’m offering you an apology foot rub.”

“How wildly inappropriate,” you comment while extending your foot. You’ve eyed Dr. Julian’s hands before. They may be soft, but they are big, so maybe he could be of some use to you. 

He laughs at that; a short huff of laughter that possibly softens you a little towards him. And once your foot is in his hands–ok, that feels good, maybe better than good, and maybe Dr. Julian does know something about making the human body feel better. A small noise escapes you, and you are breaking so many hospital policies right now, but god dammit they work you to the bone here.

He’s even kind enough to do your other foot too, and by the time he’s done with you you’re leaning back in your chair on your hand with your eyes closed. You open one eye with a sigh as he gives the ball of your foot a finishing squeeze.

“Ok. I’m mostly not mad anymore.”

He gives a short guffaw at that. “You were mad?” Like he’s surprised you’ve taken any of this personally.

“Of course I was.”

“Oh.”

Strangely he doesn’t seem offended by this. “You really do care about your patients.”

“Why do you sound so surprised?”

“I'm not surprised. but…”

“But what?”

“It's hard on us as medical professionals, to take every case personally. We do our best, of course, but at the end of the day you have to keep some sliver of your heart back for yourself, or you won’t survive to help anyone tomorrow.”

You raise your eyebrows at that. It never would have even occurred to you not to give your heart and soul to anyone who needed it during your shift. 

“I guess we’ll have to agree to disagree on that one.”

You can’t help but notice he still hasn't released your foot, toying with the curve of your big toe through your sock. 

“Perhaps we will.”

He is looking at you searchingly, and it’s all you can do not to flinch from that intuitive gaze.

“Thank you, Dr. Mercer.” 

He opens his mouth as though to say more, but one of your colleagues walks in, and that’s the end of your little moment.

***

Surprise, surprise, when the next night, Guess Who finds his way onto your examination table.

For fuck’s sake.

“Officer Ludlow. What brings you in tonight?”

You know you sound tired, look like hell, and smell like straight up human waste, but Tom looks extra happy to see you. “You work too much.”

You don’t have the energy to argue, much less with the truth. “Yeah, and you get injured too much.” Great, solid comeback, you really got him there. Stupid, stupid, stupid. 

He whistles. “Bad mood. Damn.” 

“Just tell me what you’re fucking here for, Tom.” You plop down on the stool next to his bed, chin in your hand. 

He tugs his charred pant leg up, and beneath, so fresh it should be sizzling and smoking, is a nasty burn the size of your head. 

“How did you manage that?” You wince, leaning down to assess the damage. Luckily, it’s only second degree, shiny and bloody and wet and looking too painful to bear weight on. “How are you walking?” 

“Remember the sword?” 

“How could I forget?”

“Okay, well this time it was a flamethrower.”

“How are people getting their hands on this shit?” 

He shrugs, which makes you laugh for the first time all day. “Alright, I don’t think it’s third degree, but I need the doctor to-“

“Good evening Mr. Ludlow.” Julian has drawn back the curtain and stepped inside your little exam room with that branded, signature smile on his face.

“Hey, Julian-Doctor-can you take a look at this?”

While Julian looks at the burn, you sneak a peek at Tom, and see some type of look on his face-not confusion, not concern, more analyzing. Assessing. Thinking. 

“This your doctor boyfriend you were telling me about?”

You can almost hear the sizzle of heat making its way up your neck to your cheeks. This fucking bastard. Embarassing you at work, trying to catch you out in your lie. He levels that penetrating gaze with you, just the tiniest tick at the corner of his mouth betraying his amusement.

Yet he is not the only perceptive man in the room. Julian looks between the two of you, and you swear he reads the situation as clearly as a book. Without losing a beat, god bless, he goes into Full Authoritative Doctor Mode. “I am, not that my relationship with Miss y/n is any of your concern.”

Either of them could have pushed you over with a feather–you can hardly believe Julian is playing along.

“Sorry, doc. I’m a detective. Just curious by nature.” Ludlow levels Julian with a stony look, conveying that he didn’t believe the doctor–or he really didn’t like what he’d said.

“I’m sure you are,” answers Julian, throwing you a knowing look that only makes the fire under your collar ten times worse. “Can you go check on Mrs. Andersen in room 10, y/n? I can handle Officer Ludlow.”

Somehow, you kind of doubt that, and you find you’re reluctant to leave them alone in the room together. But, you’ve already been insubordinate once this week. They’re grown men. What’s the worst that could happen? 

Yet as you’re making your exit, you can’t help but feel like you’ve just left Dr. Mercer at the mercy of a wolf. 

You are glad you went to check on Mrs. Andersen, because she needed some warm assurance, on top of a slight adjustment of her IV. When you walk back out into the hall, headed for the nurses station, it’s almost as though the atmosphere has changed. No one else seems to sense it, but somehow you just know something is off. With dread in your heart you scurry back to where you’d left Ludlow and Mercer, bursting through the curtains.

They are standing toe to toe, nose to nose. It’s made a little more ridiculous by the bulky dressing on Tom’s calf, but you still don’t doubt his ability to wipe the floor with Dr. Julian. Which is a ridiculous fucking thing for you to have to worry about, but here you are.

You don’t raise your voice, not wanting to draw attention, but you do not hesitate to put yourself between them. You try not to notice how solid Tom’s chest is beneath your hand, compared to Julian’s. “That is enough.” You direct this at Tom, of course, because you have zero doubt as to who started it.

“Why are you yelling at me?” Tom complains childishly.

“Because I’m not stupid.”

“I know you’re not stupid. But this asshole seems to think he owns you.”

You do lift an eyebrow at that, but it’s so not the issue at hand. “Do you want to be escorted out by security?”

“I think I’m done here anyway.” Ludlow picks up his jacket, glaring at Julian. “Thanks for the dressing, Doc.” His tone, however, more conveys Eat shit and die. Then he looks at you, and those burning dark eyes send an uneasy thrill to your toes–by way of your treacherous pussy, who does not seem to understand that men like Tom Ludlow are very bad for you. She has gotten you into so much trouble before, and by god you are not letting her run the show this time.

“Be seeing you, sweetheart.”

“Not on these hospital grounds, you’re not,” asserts Dr. Julian, and Tom, damn him, just laughs.

There is just something about that man’s presence that leaves behind traces of him in a room, long after he has gone. You just stand there, maybe rather stupidly, struggling to process what just happened. What is it about you, that attracts these cocky assholes that just can’t take no for an answer?

“Are you alright?” asks Julian, and you actually believe that he cares about you, concern written in his achingly handsome features, his kind hand on your shoulder.

“Yeah, sure. Sorry about him.”

He gives you a gently amused look. “You are not responsible for that man’s bad behavior.

And you won’t be treating him anymore.” 

You would argue, assert yourself, do that thing where you’re strong and independent and take care of the own sore skin on your back, but you really don’t have the energy right now, and Julian-fuck him-he’s right, you should not be Ludlow’s nurse anymore for his sake and yours. 

You pinch the bridge of your nose and close your eyes, wishing it was the end of your shift. “Alright.” 

At least the rest of the night goes by fairly quickly, although that means you’re busy enough not to have another break, however, Julian-apologetic Julian, who brings you a turkey sandwich and makes you sit down and eat it and drink at least half a bottle of water-is making things a little better. 

The doctors don’t really get into the shit like you and your fellow nurses, although they are just as busy, and the fact that he takes time to be concerned about you after the emotional beginning of your shift really touches you. He knows he fucked up the other day, and he’s in full sweet cinnamon roll mode to try and rectify it. That’s why you can’t-and, if you’re being honest-don’t want to tell him no when he catches you in the parking lot before you get into your car. 

“Here, you left your stethoscope.” He loops it around your neck, then opens your driver’s door for you. 

“Julian, it really is okay.” You reach up to pat his lab coat shoulder in reassurance. “And I’m fine. Tom is just a big bully.” Why do you feel like you’re betraying him by talking shit to Julian in the parking lot? 

He looks down at you like he’s made up his mind about something, and grins. “Have coffee with me?”

You blink at him. “Like, right now?” 

“No, Saturday morning. Seven AM?” He grabs the spiral notebook and pen from his breast pocket and writes you his number. “Since I’m your boyfriend, I should take you out on a date, don’t you think?” 

Well, at least he’s asking nicely instead of being an asshole about it like some people… 

You chuckle, tuck the note and your hands into your scrub pockets, and hope the heat isn’t visible on your face. “Guess you’re right.” 

You might be playing a dangerous game, here, but hell, there’s a reason you work in the ED of a level one trauma center; you’re a sucker for cheap thrills

[presidentlokis-hornyhelmet]

Cockroach!

Pavitr Prabhakar x f!reader

Summary: Reader is scared of roaches and accidentally finds one in the bathroom. Pavitr saves her + fluff <3 [used Google translate for Hindi words, sorry if it's wrong 😅] My boi has so less fics so i decided to do one myself '^_^ A/N: "N/n" means nickname

"Paviiiiiii beta!", Maya auntie calls from the kitchen. "Can you please get the door? I'm busy." 

"I got it, aunite!" 

Pavitr opens the door to none other than his best friend and partner-in-crime, Y/n. 

"Hey, N/n!", he pulls you into an embrace. You smile and return the sentiment, nuzzling his cheek before pulling away. 

You remove your shoes outside and step in, as is custom in India, greeted with a playful pinch to your cheek by Maya auntie herself. You giggle. She was like a mother to you and you loved her as such. 

"My beti, I haven't seen you in a week! How was your vacation?" 

"It wasn't great without you, auntie. We just got home and I came to see you right away!" 

"Suck up, suck up", mutters Pavitr in the background, gaining a playful slap to his head -courtesy of you. 

"Did you do your exams well? I didn't have a chance to ask you before you left." 

"I think I'll get an 'A', thanks to Pavitr's tutoring." 

You watch him perk up out of the corner of your eyes as your praise.

The boy in question puffs out his chest, showing off his biceps from where he's leaning on the kitchen door frame. "Have no fear, Pavitr is here!"

You cup your mouth, laughing at his antics as Maya auntie playfully shakes her head in exasperation. 

"Pavu can be like that sometimes", she chuckles, leaning into your ear in a stage whisper, "He missed you a lot, you know. Never shuts up about you. And, you know, beti, I keep asking him to already tell you but-" 

"AUNTIE!" 

You both blush as Pavitr hushes the old woman. She just winks at you. Of course, she knows. 

The awkwardness is too much and Pavitr takes your hand, leading you into his room. 

"Okay okay, enough talk, ladies. Y/n and I have some work to do -for a project!", he adds quickly when Maya auntie smirks at him. "I.. that-..auntie!" 

She just giggles and ruffles his hair before walking back to the kitchen, leaving you both standing awkwardly next to each other, flustered. 

Pavitr clears his throat. "She.. she was just kidding, I didn't-" 

"It's okay", you say shyly. 

You have feelings for him too but both of you are just too timid and would rather take it to your grave than admit it out loud. 

He falls onto his bed and crosses one leg over the other, resting his head on his elbows as you sit next to him. 

"So, what has my favourite person been upto in the meantime, leaving me all alone in this big, big city?" 

You playfully roll your eyes. Dramatic little shit. 

"You? Alone? Liar, the whole city is your friend." 

He pouts, trying to look offended, but gives in and laughs. 

You discuss about your project and he shows you some beta models of his brilliant ideas. You stare in awe at the young genius before you, playing with his "toys" as he explains them patiently. 

"Hey, can I use your bathroom for a sec?", you ask when he finishes. 

"Sure. Make yourself at home, N/n! I'll go sneak us some snacks", he winks, peeking from outside his door. 

You shake your head, smiling. It's not that Maya auntie would refuse you snacks, but Pavitr convinced you there was a thrill in food-stealing and you couldn't deny it. 

You shut the door, switch on the light and turn to the sink to wash your face when there it is -the thing that you most fear, the monster of your nightmares -a cockroach! 

You scream bloody murder and run out of the bathroom, colliding into a hard wall. You look up realising it's actually Pavitr. 

"You okay, N/n?" 

"R-roach! Roach!", you point at the bathroom door frantically. 

You stay in the corner as he goes in and stomps it dead, washing his hands before he comes to hug you. 

"Deep breaths, deep breaths.. now exhale.. that's it.." 

You cling onto him and follow his orders, grip loosing as your breathing slows down. His hand circle your waist, holding you firm and secure. You rest your head on his chest, calming down at the rhythmic beat of his heart. 

You only belatedly realize it: you're hugging him, your chests touching each other's. 

He seems to realizes it at the same time too, but instead of letting you go -like every other time- his hands tighten around your waist. 

Pavitr catches your eyes with his own mesmerizing brown eyes; yours unable to leave him, entranced by his orbs as he slowly, gently leans in. Without noticing, you lean in too. 

The gentle touch of soft lips spark fireworks in your body, your nerves tingling with the new feeling of his lips on yours. You could get used to this. 

You panick a little it registers what you're doing, but Pavitr chases your lips, pressing against them firmly and you instantly calm down. He cups your face, cradling your neck as he brings your lips closer. It's his way of reassuring that you have nothing to fear. 

"Hope I'm not interrupting anything." 

You guys jump back as if burned when the door suddenly flies open. Maya auntie is standing there with a guiless face and a bright smile. 

"I brought chai for you kids!", she says cheerfully and sets down the cups. "Did you hear that scream earlier? Where did it come from?" 

"It, uh, it was me, auntie", you say, quite embarresed, running a hand through your matted up hair. "There was a cockroach in the bathroom and I got scared." 

"Aww, poor child." 

Pavitr looks away, blush blooming on his cheeks yet not obvious due to his skin tone. He rocks on his heels, running a hand through his hair. You know he too can still feel your lips on his from the way his eyes never leave you. 

Maya auntie's eyes sparkle mischievously as she smiles and goes into the bathroom, finding the toy roach and throwing it into the trash can.

She smirks under her breath and washes her hands, sighing as she mutters in amusement. 

"Oh, the things an old lady gotta do.."

_________

Reblogs and comments feed my fic dragon <3

[mysticficti0n]

∞༺♥༻✧✧༺♥༻∞　　∞༺♥༻✧✧༺♥༻∞　

Talk to me

warnings- swearing, confession, drinking, smoking weed, (they're like 18 in this), petname, "enemies" to lovers, rude!tom to sassy!sappy!Fluffy!tom

NOT PROOF READ BC ITZ LITERALLY 1:45 AM AND I'M TIRED 👺

words- 897

I slammed my cards onto the table seeing Tom huff in disappointment "loser!" I sang "now I get the €30 you promised me if I won" the boy shoved a hand into his pocket pulling the cash out and practically throwing it at me

"how do you always fucking win its fucking stupid- you're literally dumb as shit and can barley count and now scammed me of €30- I'm going for a smoke so I'll be back in a sec... fucking hate this god damn game" Tom rose from his spot at the table and walked up the stairs to who knows where, I looked toward Georg who shrugged and grabbed the vodka that was sitting openly on the island, the rest of us carried on playing until Tom's sec turned into an hour, the boys had migrated from the kitchen to the living room and slouched on the sofa giggling half asleep watching MTV but the thought of Tom being alone didn't leave my mind as much as I hated him I wondered if he was okay

"I'm gonna go for a smoke" I patted Gustav's shoulder while he cried in hysterics as Bill fell from his seat dropping his drink over his jeans "ugh" I sighed double stepping the stairs, I walked down the hallway until I reached Tom's room and pushed the door open slightly, I could see his window open and him sat on the roof with swirls of smoke cascading into the air from his lips. I went to the window and crawled out "hey you've been awhile" he hummed followed by a snotty breath

"what do you want Y/n?" his voice quivered "I really don't feel like fucking talking right now" I looked to him, eyes red not just from being high but tear streaks lay across his skin which he tried to rub away with his damp sleeve

"woah I came to check on you after the cards aftermath" I held my hands up in surrender seeing him turn away and bring the bud to his lips again "pass it to me" lazily his hand hung toward me holding the end to me as I tuck a suck from it feeling the air fill my chest "so whats on your mind?"

"did you not hear me literally twenty seconds ago?" I shook my head pushing myself up the roof to sit next to him "you really piss me off Y/n you know that"

"yeah I get that impression a lot from you" I joked finding myself funny "I mean I don't really like you much either but I feel I hide it better" a small 'oh' left the boy, my eyes flicked to him finding his already on me "'oh' what?" I asked

"nothin'" I cocked my head to him making his tough persona drop "well I was gonna apologise for being a dick to you half the time but I mean after you said that I take my shit back" a little laugh chirped in my ear making me smile

"no I'm sorry I like you but you just never seem to like me so I thought we'd have just like a mutual dislike to each other you know and I mean you called me a dumb so..." I took the and of the bud out his hands and lifted it to my lips taking the last drag before throwing it somewhere

"well I mean I like you... quiet a bit actually but erm I just thought I wouldn't have a chance" I turned my body to face him as I breathed out the last of the smoke "I know its stupid"

"no... I don't think so, just a misunderstanding" he nodded and the air seemed to become really thick "so..." our eyes Locked together as two small chuckles left us "I'm sorry" I began seeing the boy shake his head

"shut up it's not your fault.. well not all of it" I faked to be offended shoving his shoulder slightly "Ow my shoulder!" he cooed

"oh be quite dumbass" I quipped feeling his hand jab at my side "Hey that actually hurt!" I called pushing his hand away

"yeah did it?" he played mocking my voice

"did it did it" I mimicked and he shut up "thats what I thought" I spoke flicking my hair away from my face

"be quiet Y/n" he sneered as I turned to him "what?"

"make me" in a swift movement his hand was under my chin holding me inches away from his lips and my heart stopped

"quiet now huh?" he toyed with his pricing while looking at me "silent even" I smirked in his grip and pushed myself closer "what are you doing?"

"making you shut up" I pressed my lips to his and felt him relax into me, his hand leaving my jaw and going to my waist as I hooked an arm around his neck "good boy" I hummed into the kiss feeling the heat of his face burn onto mine, the two of us pulled away with a small smile

"well... is that what will happen if I say sorry?" I nodded letting my hand that was around his neck trail down his back "mh- Y/n?" I smiled to him "I'm so fucking sorry you know- really really sorry in fact- like so so so so sorry"

[sammygender]

is there any point in the series that sam could have made an escape and actually successfully gotten away from dean and hunting, or do you think that his lack of support system made it impossible

FANTASTIC QUESTION. sorry im gonna ramble for 7374893594 words now

tldr, past like s3 (and certainly past s5) i think its kinda impossible.

early seasons, like 1-2, sure and totally, he almost does, he plans on it. but then the demon deal for his life happens and theyre trapped in cycles forever and ever and everything becomes a lot harder and, also, sam and dean just naturally become more and more codependent, decreasing the chances of them ever being able to have a 'normal relationship', which i think is necessary (dean loosening grip on sam, them having connections outside of each other) for sam to ever 'get away' from dean/hunting (cause otherwise its just an all-or-nothing choice, more on this in a sec).

i think its less so much about sam successfully getting away in terms of getting dean off his back/to leave him alone (which, dont get me wrong, WOULD be hard, especially as the seasons go on, considering dean cant stand to be alone and has extremely controlling and occasionally stalkerish tendencies <3..... but could still certainly be possible), but about him actually choosing to leave dean/hunting (which for the purposes of this question we r equating).

bc its sort of like..... he takes a lot of Breaks especially during mid seasons (s5 after lucifer's set free (tho iirc this one is dean's doing), s7 after dean kills amy, s8 with amelia tho he thinks deans dead, s9 after gadreel possession is revealed....) but he always always comes back. of course s8 is dean Literally Dragging sam back into it (<3) and also just shaking everything up by being generally Alive, but s7 and 9, its cause dean has done something awful thats genuinely shook sam up, and in the end he just... gets over it. cuz what is the alternative? dean doesnt change and rarely apologises!

like its the fact that of course he wants a relationship with dean because deans the closest person in his life and everything to him, but having a relationship with dean equals their intense codependent unhealthy bond, equals dealing with dean's disregard of his autonomy and ignoring it (read: letting it wear him down). dean's all or nothing. they cant just be 'normal brothers'. and i find it extremely hard to see sam ever actually longterm choosing 'no dean' over 'dean who loves him more than anything and will always do anything for him but systematically wears down his personhood and punishes him for percieved disobedience and thinks he's the one who gets to make choices about sam's life'. like he would have to have a bunch of connections outside of dean, they probably both would, and that would never really happen partially because of dean. they can never let anyone else get on their level. like u said. lack of support system!

and its like... what could dean Actually do that would make sam 'cut him off'/distance himself permanently. i literally and truly cannot think of anything. sam canonically has an INCREDIBLE capacity for forgiveness, just in general - where's that jared quote about how sam forgives everyone cause he sees himself as someone so in need of forgiveness - and this even more so applies to dean. dean locks sam up and leaves him to die, kills his friend, tricks sam into letting an angel possess him, and tries to kill him, and none of that makes sam leave dean permanently, not just because dean makes it physically difficult for him to (tho he does - insisting they work together in s7 on the case, going off to get mark of cain in s9) but also cause sam just eventually forgives him and moves on. is it 'capacity for forgiveness' or is it that he doesnt really view bad things that happen to him as a big deal, that (thru s5-esque emotional abuse techniques <3) deans subconsciously gotten him questioning his own reality and opinions so deeply that it just takes time before sam's agreeing with dean again. makes you think!

but tbf (and this is a digression but i just find it interesting) this probably goes both ways too - what could sam actually do to make dean leave him permanently? even when deans incredibly angry at sam he usually wants him around to berate about it <3. exceptions being start of s10 when hes a demon but even demon dean soon switches to sam-obsession.... and s5. which i know according to endverse Wouldve been a permanent split up? which is kind of wild? and canonises that that Couldve Happened i guess. samgirls should do more with endverse, id kill to see an actually good samcentric fic of like. the events leading to endverse. if anyones read any pls pls recs. ANYWAY. theres also ofc s2 meg possession, where dean just fully thinks sam killed people and is like <3 okay baby brothers lets pretend this never happened we got this do u need me to bury a body <3. truly a ride or die. unless ur actively going against Him specifically. things to think about. tell me ur takes.

and anyway then s11 onwards he is NOT getting out. not unless someone really managed to get it into his head Hey So Pro Tip This Is Fucked. sam acquiesces to dean-as-dictator, having literally Let Dean (be about to) Kill him, dean (newly cured from moc) is consequently much more pleased with sam and with their relationship, they fight much less and theres therefore much less prominent emotional abuse etc since dean is at his worst when hes upset. (iirc. late seasons are a blur except for jack stuff.). and by s13 he has a son and maybe if this happened seasons ago dean's treatment of jack would've been enough to prompt at least a temporary split up but it doesnt, it just sparks a few vague arguments between samndean and sam telling jack that dean is trying <3 and that its very difficult for him <3 which is why he told you hed kill you <3 thats just what dean is like you have to get over it at some point <3 (I LOVE S13). so then yeah. too late.

TLDR... he is too indocrinated <3. sad!

[bam-bi-buck]

8x04 SPOILERS

Buck 🥰

Gerrard 🤢

Excuse me, that is not Buck’s job, you can’t ask him to choose someone to fire, are you out of your mind?

Love Athena not liking the houses lol

“I’ll know it when I see it”

Bleh, Ortiz for Mayor 🤢

“Who loves being a public servant?”

Everyone reluctantly rasing their hands lol

“Love the enthusiasm” what do you mean Gerrard, you’ve made the firehouse such a lovely place to work

Body cams??

Mama: “bet I know who put the order for that”

Why do you keep saying tight end?

Don’t call him 🥺 Wes needs a hug

Oh Eddie 😭

Wes no!! 😭

Wes you better not die!!! It’s not allowed!!!

I genuinely have no thoughts during this ambulance ride other than aaaaaaaahhhhh

The way Eddie cheers then the soft “you’re gonna be okay kid,” after he called him Dad 😭

“Hell of a save”

“And you got us here”

Love when they all cheer each other

Hen’s speech 😭

But also don’t name drop her girl, that’s such a risk in court

The look of devastation on Karen’s face

Noooo 💔💔💔

No contact why???

This judge sucks

“911 what’s you’re emergency” love Maddie

Also this totally took me out of the scene for a sec, is there something on Maddie’s nose, does she have a nose piercing?

Am I seeing things?

Anyways I’m gonna fight Ortiz and this judge whatever her name is

“I don’t want another house, I want my house” 🥺

Aww Michael name drop

lol how many greats are you gonna say there Bobby?

Hen at Ortiz’s office 😭

“I’m expected to go on, maybe young Mara will have to learn to do the same”

Bitch

“He is not my captain you are my captain”

Yes Hen!!

Love them all coming to Bobby

Bobby’s face when Buck said Gerrard was touching him

Cue the “No, my boy” audio bit

At least we learned that Eddie’s having regular zooms with Chris, even if he’s not talking much in them

Chimney talking about Gerrard’s Ego feels important, they’re gonna use that against him aren’t they?

That’s mean Chimney (his comment about Buck not Gerrard - say all the mean things about Gerrard Chim)

“I wouldn’t call it an attack”

As the nurse is putting bandages all over him 🤣

DUDE

“He wasn’t 400 pounds when I got him, he was an adorable cub”

My mama “well guess what dumbass they get bigger”

“Where’d you learn to do that?”

“I have layers” 🤣

The cat jumps up

Mama: “Surprise!”

No pets

Yeah, wild tigers would fall under that policy, wouldn’t they?

Hen & Chim being separated + Buck & Eddie being separated feels wrong but I love when Buck & Hen get to work together, love the looks they share

“Not so loud the rest of the team thinks it’s an essemble”

“He’s the voice of god around here”

“No not a fan” “That’s Brad Torrence” 🤣

Bobby!!!

“I’m telling you who you should get rid of- yourself!!!

It’s all about his Ego!!!!

I see the pieces!!!

LOVE Bobby scheming

“I’m a dad who doesn’t live under the same roof as his son”

Eddie 😭

Wanna shake Wes’s dad

Gerrard going to Ortiz after talking to Bobby, Bobby charmed… (well maybe Brad did lol) him, didn’t he?

“You know Vincent, we’re a lot alike,”

My mama “jackasses?”

22 million budget reductions for the LAFD seems like a lot

Like for the FD specifically

You’d think you’d want them funded in particular

Excuse me sir

Is there a reason you called her Miss?

Mama: “Oh did the other jackass help? Now I feel bad”

Me: “Don’t feel bad, he’s still a jackass”

“This is a set up”

“It sure as hell is”

A team that schemes together, stays together!!!

Eddie helping Wes 😭

Mara gets to go home!!!! 😭😭😭😭

“Let’s build something new, something just for us” awww 🥰

Welcome back cap poster!!!

“The man the myth the legend” 🤣

I actually don’t mind him being at the Hot Shots job, as long as he isn’t in the 118!!!

HALLOWEEN EPISODE

There goes everyone’s “Bucks the one with a pumpkin on his head” theories lol

Denny!!! No!!! What the hell!!!

Give the Wilsons’ a break, my god!

[losersimonriley]

every way that matters

(Ghost/Soap, marriage proposals, first kiss, in that order actually)

“MacRiley.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Ravish!”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ.”

The longer he thinks on it (the longer Johnny goes on listing horrid mash-ups of their surnames,) the more convinced he becomes that they should just keep their own as is. It would make the streamlining process a hell of a lot easier (as easy as it can be for a dead man with a high-clearance-only military file to get legally married. Ghost’s paperwork will be a nightmare no matter if his name is changed or not.) Plus it would mean no unnecessary confusement in the field.

Johnny is quick to veto that idea.

“Where’s the romance in that, ye numpty? C’mon. What sounds better, John Riley or Simon MacTavish?”

Ghost actually full body snorts at that one. “They both sound dead weird.”

“Och, ye wound me. There’s no other choice then. Plain ol’ Riley-MacTavish it is. Simon Rhys Riley-MacTavish,” Johnny says his name with such softness that it hurts.

And that one…that one might work. Bit of a mouthful but nobody besides an officiant is ever going to be saying his full name anyway. And Johnny, apparently.

An officiant. With the highest of clearances. At their wedding. Their make-believe wedding.

This is all, of course, a joke. They’re meant to be having a laugh on watch duty while Garrick and Price sleep their dedicated four hours. Simon had maybe forgotten himself and delved a little too deep into the idea. Maybe he forgot this wasn’t a real conversation. Easy to do with electric blue eyes lit by a full moon and a perfect mouth spouting random, sleep deprived nuggets like “What if we got married?”

“Sure. That’s the one,” he says, regretting every single one of his life choices that led him to this moment. They need to stop. Now.

“That’s the one,” Johnny repeats.

Despite it all, his own jaws keep fucking flapping. Soap tends to have that effect on him. Curious, that.

“When I was a little brat,” he’s already second-guessing the confession about to escape his lips, “I used to think I’d make the perfect husband one day. Cause my old man showed me everything not to be.”

He tries to ignore the sharp inhale that Johnny attempts to mask with a clearing of his throat.

“You would be. Anyone would be lucky to have ye, Simon. I’d certainly be beside myself,” he says that last part in a mutter, looking off into the dark of the forest.

“Right,” he whispers, sarcasm dripping from the word. He hopes they leave it at that. He thinks they have left it at that, peaceful silence promising until Soap picks it up again within minutes.

“If it weren’t for the military, the task force, would ye marry me?”

“Maybe if you asked nicely.”

“Simon. I’m serious.”

He glances up and, yes, that is Soap’s serious face. He’s staring at him so intently it might burn a hole straight through the hard shell mask and into his skull. Fuck. Fucking hell. What is this? The fuck is going on here?

“I—Johnny, we aren’t…we aren’t together,” he can’t help but ease into it as if he’s breaking the truth to Soap. And yet he phrases it as a question instead of the statement it’s meant to be.

“Ye didnae answer the question proper.”

“You didn’t ask proper,” he quips, agitation rising in his voice. Why can’t Soap just stop this? Can he not see how much it’s hurting him? He’s usually so good about reading him.

Johnny grins evilly and plucks a blade of grass from the ground, quickly tying it off. “Need ye to stand up for a sec.”

“What,” he deadpans.

“Up.”

He stands, ever the obedient dog for John fucking MacTavish.

And John fucking MacTavish stays sat on the ground, switching his position to a kneel right in front of him.

He’s going to throw up.

This isn’t happening. This cannot be happening. He’s in a dream and he’ll wake up screaming and sweating and shaking any second.

“It’s not funny anymore, Soap,” he croaks.

It hurts.

“I’m not laughin’,'' he holds the blade of grass up, haphazardly knotted into a tiny circle. “Simon Rhys Riley, would ye do me the absolute fucking honor of being my husband in all ways except legal? Sir.”

It’s so stupid. It’s pretend—he knows that, but he’s sinking to his knees anyway. “This would make me your fiancé. Not husband.”

“That a yes then?”

Johnny is serious and his smile is blinding. Not for the first time, he’s bloody thankful for having his mask on around this ridiculous man. He’s sure his entire face could rival a tomato.

Maybe it’s not a real proposal but, Simon realizes, it’s real to them. Maybe not so far as a promise, but a wish. A what if.

“We’ll wait a bit, let it marinate. Maybe this’ll turn to gold, aye?” Johnny makes to slip the…ring…onto his finger but hesitates, motioning to the glove covering Simon’s hand. “Can I?”

He nods once and the skelly glove is far too gently pulled off and replaced with another far too gentle glide of grass up his ring finger. It’s the perfect fit. It doesn’t rip, doesn’t fall off when Johnny moves his hand back into his glove. It’s as if that stupid blade of grass was meant for him.

What a stupid thought. A stupid thought for a stupid, lovesick ghost.

They blink at each other, both seeming to be in a daze of their own when something possesses Simon—something unhinged and desperate and absolutely necessary in this moment.

He yanks the mask completely off before surging forward and kissing hard enough to hurt both of their noses and quick enough to leave them both aching for more. Johnny whines pitifully and follows his lips when he pulls back.

“Think we’ve done this all backwards, LT,” Johnny breathes into his mouth, hands coming up to pet his face.

This is everything. Everything. Backwards, frontwards, sideways, he doesn’t give a fuck because Johnny is everything.

“You started it, Sergeant.”

***

Six months and six thousand kisses later, Johnny presents him with a gunmetal black ring. Fucker had it planned from the start.

Engraved on the outside:

Riley-MacTavish

And the inside:

In every way that matters.

[actualalligator]

"I should really stop being a coward." for buddie if you are so inclined :)

Thank you so much for this! It ended up being much longer than I planned, but it was fun!!

"I should really stop being a coward," Buck sighed. He sat in the back of the ambulance, watching Eddie punch the bag across the room.

"Yes," Hen said from behind him. "And you should actually help me restock the ambulance or get out of my way."

"Sorry, sorry." Buck stood and did help. They were just finishing when the B-shift crew started to filter in.

"Buck!" Eddie shouted.

When Buck turned, Eddie was standing freshly showered and dressed in his jeans and a hoodie, bag over his shoulder about ten feet back from the ambulance.

"Happy hour ends in half an hour. Do you want wings or not? We gotta go!" Eddie asked, resting a hand on his hip.

Buck glanced toward Hen, who rolled her eyes. "Go," she said. "You should really stop being a coward."

Buck looked at her for a second, then nodded. "See you tomorrow, Hen." And he hopped out of the ambulance and sprinted to the locker room to change.

Eddie leaned against the jeep when he got out there. "If we miss happy hour, you're buying."

Buck laughed. He unlocked the jeep and tossed his bag in the back.

Eddie got in and immediately started to fiddle with the radio, settling on a classic rock station and humming along as they drove.

Buck parked the jeep near the back of CJ's lot and turned it off, but didn't get out. He unbuckled and turned to face Eddie. "Eddie, can we talk a sec?"

Eddie glanced at his watch. "Can we talk after we've been seated and ordered wings?"

"Yeah, yeah," Buck said, ducking his head.

Coward.

He climbed out of the jeep and followed Eddie into the restaurant. They were seated quickly.

"I'm thinking hot and the Thai curry ones we got last time," Eddie said, flipping over the happy hour menu to look at the wing flavors.

"So you want to melt my face off," Buck replied. "What about some of the Korean BBQ?"

"I'm trying to build your spice tolerance, Buck. I'm doing you a service here," Eddie said with a grin. He then flashed that grin at the waitress Sarah who was often their server on wing night.

"Getting in right under the wire, I see, gentlemen. What can I get you?" Sarah asked.

"We want two dozen. Ten buffalo hot, ten of the Thai curry, and four Korean BBQ. A basket of fries and," Eddie paused, glancing at the beer list. "Do you still have the black forest stout?"

"I'd have to check. They were on the last one. But Rosewood sent another stout to replace it with," Sarah said.

Eddie nodded and offered her the menu. "Whichever Rosewood stout you have is fine."

"Buck?" Sarah asked.

Buck offered her a smile. "Lots of ranch. And whatever pilsner is on tap."

Sarah tucked her pen on her apron. "I will go put that in and get those drinks."

Buck watched her go before he looked back at Eddie. "Kind of you to get four wings that are a little less spicy."

"You like spice. Even if it makes you cry a little," Eddie replied, smiling. "And last time you said the curry wings were the best you've ever had." He paused, tilting his head. "Do you want me to go grab her and change the hot to medium?"

Buck shook his head. "You're right. I do like spice." And then he took a second to just look at Eddie as he stared down at the drinks menu.

"I will never understand paying fifteen dollars for fifty cents worth of liquor and some juice," Eddie said, shaking his head. "I can get a bottle of tequila and a carton of orange juice for fifteen bucks."

"Shitty tequila," Buck said.

Eddie grinned. "That's what the orange juice is for."

Buck laughed, shaking his head, but convinced he fell even more in love every time Eddie flashed him that grin. He thought weak at the knees was a made up think until the first time Eddie smiled at him.

Sarah returned. She set Buck's pilsner down in front of him and then about three-quarters of a pint in front of Eddie. "Keg kicked in the middle of the pour. I'll bring you another when they've got the new one in."

"Thanks." Eddie picked up his glass and held it out toward Buck. "Cheers."

"Cheers," Buck replied, clinking his glass against Eddie's and taking a drink. As Eddie's glass came away from his mouth, it'd left behind a little foam on his upper lip. Fondness spread through Buck and without thinking much about it, he said, "I love you."

He wished then that he was in one of those made-up worlds where love at first sight existed and love made one weak at the knees because time also seemed to stop there when things like this happened, when those words accidentally slipped put.

But Buck wasn't in one of those worlds. He was in the real world, and time kept ticking as Eddie registered exactly what it was Buck had said.

Eddie blinked. "What?"

"I'm sorry," Buck said.

"Fuck." Eddie shook his head. He laughed. "This is where you finally do it? In CJ's?"

Buck frowned. "Finally?" he repeated, then pointed his finger at Eddie. "I asked if we could talk in the jeep. You asked if we could do it after we ordered wings. It's after we ordered wings. What do you mean finally, Eddie?"

Eddie looked down at his drink. "I just wasn't sure when you were going to tell me."

Buck's face suddenly felt hot, and something burned hot inside his gut. Embarrassment, maybe. Shame, like he was the butt of a joke. Was it a joke? Had he been so obvious that Eddie had just known? Was it sad? Pathetic?

"I love you too," Eddie said. "I need you to hear that before you start to spiral about this. I love you."

"Why did you wait for me to say it," Buck asked.

Eddie reached out and gripped his shoulder. "Because when Taylor said it first, you weren't ready, and you felt bad about your response. I wanted you to get to say it first. And I wanted you to hear it back. I love you, Buck."

Buck wrapped his fingers around Eddie's wrist, just holding it there, grounding him for a moment. He let out a breath. "Will you kiss me before my mouth goes numb from all these stupid hot wings you ordered?"

Eddie moved each of their beers off to the side and leaned across the table. Buck's hand dropped as Eddie moved his to rest on the back of Buck's neck and pull him close.

The kiss was quick, but everything Buck wanted it to be. Eddie didn't pull away.

"I love you," Eddie said.

Buck laughed and surged forward to kiss him again.

[sol-consort]

(Blows a little kissey at the anon who talked about pervy alien roommates, thank you for giving me this itch again 💋)

Krogan roommate who treats you like glass to begin with. He's heard enough about how fragile and weak humans are, with their oh-so-sensitive nerve endings and small squishy bodies, he doesn't want you to think he's a brute if you're gonna be sharing a flat together.

But oh, he wasn't expecting this now, was he? One day he comes into the kitchen to find you on your tip-toes trying to reach something in the cupboard and you make a tiny bounce, he's not even entirely sure your toes left the ground but he wasn't really paying attention to thar when your whole body rolls with the motion and for a brief moment, the Krogan wonders if your body would do that when he's drilling into you from behind. He shakes his head, almost confused by where his thoughts had taken him in that moment, but they just will. Not. Leave.

It doesn't help that humans are physically affectionate and scrappy, you're always either leaning your head on his shoulder (or as close as you can get) so he can see the way your plush soft skin sinks around his hard plating, or the times you try and instigate a play fight with him. Always over something silly like a remote or who gets to pick takeout but even when he's actively trying to lose to you, to not hurt you, he always ends up wrapping you into a fullnelson or pinning you to the ground, keeping you in that position a little longer than is nessicary or appropriate, but even when you struggle and try to break out of his hold, you must like it to some degree, since you always come back for more, right? Mmif you're not careful he's gonna let his hands roam even more along your body next fight, you know that right?

Heaven help you when he ends up going into rut/heat.

The smile I had while reading this was that of a fool in love

We all desperately need a krogan roommate who's tying to be on his best behavior for us all the time out of insecurity we might view him as a "brute" as if krogan culture doesn't overlap a lot with humanity's.

How he heard so much about humans and their plump soft exteriors, he knew about the lack of shells, he just...expected their skin to be rough, sturdy or at least elastic to compensate for the lack of a proper protection.

But no, oh no. Humans are completely bare. Even a newborn infant krogan has thicker skin, hell, even the eggshell of a krogan egg is rougher than the human skin.

Nothing could've prepared him for the silky smooth it felt, how the plush fat would pudge and sink around his fingers whenever he'd press into it.

Your pliable body would sink around whatever surface it presses into, the subtle jiggle to your thighs as you walked.

Yet you acted so fearlessly as if you weren't a akin to a walking soft mound of flesh, a cuddly plushie playful attempting to wrestle with him on the couch over the last bag of chips as if he couldn't hold you down with his pinky alone.

No matter how careful he was, supressing his strength and purposely giving you the winning lead, you'd always end up with a bruise or two from pressing against the blunt spike on his shell, or a moving a limb too quickly and slamming against its the stone hard surface.

How are humans alive? He has watched videos about the animals on your planet. How did your squishy species survive the bears, sharks, gorillas, and lions. He knew the turians were idiots but he didn't think they'd be stupid enough to actually let your species make more than half of C-sec.

You're not as wise and stern as the women of his species, neither are you as dim and aggressive as the male krogans. No... regardless of gender, he found out that all humans are a weird mix of both

There is cleverness in you, but it's mitigated by an equal amount of carelessness. You're adventurous and curious but also cuddly and lazy. You have no qualms showing weakness, leaning against him so casually—he can't remember the last time he was hugged before you came into his life, and now he cannot get enough of you body sprawled over his lap.

Whatever the hell natural evolution is, he is immensely thankful to it, for the stars to align and make the humans as plump as they are bouncy. The way a simple jump enough to get all parts of your body moving in a roll, the way a ripple moves through your thighs and stomach when he pins you down on the couch.

The way he'd fist his cock at night while watching a video of a human riding an impossibly girthy dildo, it's almost the size of their forearm and yet their greedy hole takes it in so seamlessly.

Fuck, it's almost the size of his cock.

Imagining it's you bouncing on his lap instead, not allowing him to help move you up and down, instead stubbornly insisting to fuck yourself on his cock.

ripples going through your entire body as you bounce up and down, chest pressing against his face, almost touching the rough exterior of his shell. How his entire mouth is as wide as your torso, how his gaint tongue can swipe against both your nipples at once.

His cock squeezing tightly in your hot insides—he tightens his fist around it as—borderline painfully so, how he can trace it's outline slightly poking out from inside your stomach.

He's so close, he wants nothing more than to fill you with his cum. Resisting the urge to grab you by the waist and fuck into you like a flashlight, he needs to be gentle, you're beginning him to breed you, he needs to go slowly, you're climaxing around his cock, he needs to move with care, you're milking him for all he's worth begging for his cum, he needs to be–

A deep sound loudly leaves the back of his throat, akin to an animalistic growl as he empties himself into his hand. Stripes of white covering the sheets, pooling in the middle of the bed from the sheer quantity of it.

He takes a deep breath.

You might just trigger his rut early without realising it.

[mmimagine-40]

Pup pt.6

Alpha!Steve Rogers x Omega! F! Reader

No warnings in this one mainly just a lot of Fluff

____________________________________________________________

Y/n had a nice time as they sat and ate with Nat and Bucky. She was a little off put by Bucky as he is an Alpha. But she warmed up to him fast. Learning he's just like Steve. Making her relaxed more. This is the first time she actual laughed and talked freely and had a nice time around alphas. The first time having people she would call friends.

After eating and talking Steve turned to Y/n. "We should probably get going, you ready?". "Actually I have to go to the bathroom before me go." Steve nodded as he watched Y/n get up using the crutches. "I have to go too so I'll come with you." Nat said standing up as they made their way to the bathroom. Steve nodded at Nat in Thanks. As he was a bit worried about Y/n.

Steve groaned as he turned back to look at Bucky who was smirking at him. "Its not like that!" He growled at the other alpha. Bucky laughed shaking his head. "Okay sure. But the way you look at her says other wise.". Steve rolled his eyes at his friend. He doesn't look at her any special way. Then someone looking out for an injured omega who needed some help. "Plus the fact you gave her that fake scent bond mark." Bucky said sitting back smirking as he watched Steve. It was clear Steve felt something about this omega by the way he's looking at her. Steve's eyes snapped back to Bucky. "What are you on about? why does it matter if I gave her that fake mark?". Bucky gave him a 'really?' face before sitting up as he rest his arms on the table as he looks at Steve. "Steve I watched you tell many omegas you wouldn't put a fake mark on them. Hell I watched you date Sharron for 4 years and never once put a fake mark on her. Even when she begged you to. So what's so special about this omega that you did?"

Steve looked down at his hands for a second. Bucky is right. He never put a fake mark on any omega before. Sharron begged him to as they dated for years. As she wanted to mate with him but he wasn't ready. So she wanted the fake mark to at least act like they mated. But Steve said no. It cause a huge fight and lead to their breakup. Well it lead to their break up when Steve told her why he won't mark her.

His mom always said that fake marks where so close and connected to mating that you should only use them on the one you really wanted to mark and mate.

With Sharron he didn't feel that way. He had fun being with her and dating but he never had that connection with her. He never saw Sharron as his mate. He only felt that way about one woman, Peggy. Peggy was Steve's Highschool sweet heart. They broke up when they went to college. Peggy went back to the UK for a higher education. Either of them could handle the distant and broke up. But Steve always though she was the one. Even if she was a beta. Not that Steve really cared beta or omega.

But now here he is. He fake marked Y/n. And Steve can't deny For a second after he put the mark on her his mind filled with thoughts of her as his mate. He kind of just thought that was part of the fake mark. Being a mark your heart and mind just thinking about the person as a mate for a sec. But maybe....Maybe Bucky was on to something.....

"Steve!" Bucky said snapping Steve out of his thoughts. "Sorry , just lost in thoughts" Steve says softly. Bucky chuckled watching his friend. He couldn't help the smile on his face. Since Peggy , Steve always pushed aside the idea of a mate. Even dating at the most part. No matter how many omega Nat threw at him. He just didn't seem interest. Yeah he dated Sharron. But that was not a good relationship. She was Peggy's cousin. So everyone was pretty sure Steve was mainly with her to get over Peggy. But it seemed over then her, no one was going to replace Peggy. So it was nice to see Steve opening his heart again.

--Meanwhile--

Y/n was actually really grateful Nat came with her. As she helped her out at the bathroom was really crouch friendly. So Nat gave her an arm/shoulder to hold as they hobbled into the bathroom. "So Steve.." Nat said smirking. "What about him?". Y/n asked as they waited as the stalls were full. "Well you know he's a nice Alpha.....an eligible Alpha." Nat says trying to play it cool but Y/n could see through it. "Steve...Steve is a very nice and sweet person. I don't know many not even just Alphas but anyone else who would be helping me like him...But I don't know about that.." Y/n said as she looked down. "I mean I have a lot of baggage. I mean I'm married to an alpha trying to track me down and take me back to a cult basically to mate me and make me have his children's and care for him".. Nats head snaps at Y/n. "Your married?". Y/n nodded as she looked back at Nat. "The..place I come from they believe in marriage then mating.". "That dose make things a bit more complicated." Nat says surprised as Steve didn't tell her that. Probably for good reasons. "Plus I'm a broken Omega. Steve deserves so much more then that. So much more." Y/n says staring a head at the wall thinking of Steve. How amazing he is. How he deserves the best omega in the world. Nat slightly smiled as she looked back at Y/n. She could tell that look. Y/n felt something about Steve. But maybe just was scared at the moment. "Your not broken. Just a little hurt and need some healing." Y/n turned smiling at Nat. "Your too nice.". Nat softly laughed shaking her head. "honey have you never had a girl friend before?". Y/n's smile kind of fell as she looked head again. Shaking her head. "I never had any friends...wasn't allowed.'" Nat frowned as she looked at Y/n before smiling as she linked their arms and bumped their shoulder together. "Well your in luck! Cause now you have 3! and Good Luck getting rid of us!". Y/n laughed with Nat. As she smiled. Friends? It felt nice to say.

After a bit more Nat and Y/n made their way back to the table. They all said their goodbyes. Bucky and Nat saying they should all meet up again soon. When Y/n was feeling a bit better and probably off the crouches. Y/n couldn't help the smile on her face as she looks out the window of the truck. As Steve drives them back to the cabin. Steve couldn't help to look at her every now and then. She was beautiful.

----

After watching Steve and Y/n pull away and Nat gets into the passage side of the car as Bucky gets in the driver seat, she pulls out her phone calling someone. "Who are you calling?", Bucky asked looking over at his mate as she held her lips to her mouth to tell him to shush. "Tony , Hey. So I have something I think you should look into."

___________________________________________________________

Kind of Short but I thought this was a perfect ending to what's to come. Enjoy! -MM