#and stops asking the doctor to take him home

[nerdygirlramblings]

totally not at all inspired by a real life snowboarding injury, I present poly!141 x injured!reader

cw: hurt/comfort, accents attempted

You're sat in the hospital bed doing your best not to cry. You hold the tears at bay not because you're fine. Not because you're proud. Not because of the shock running through your system. No, you try hard not to cry because you don't know how your boyfriends will react if you're in tears when they show up.

The spill was the most ridiculous accident, comical in its cartoonish nature: ice on the steps. You were rushing to catch The Tube, desperate not to be late. You knew if any of your men were home, they would have chided your footwear. The pink heels were absolutely impractical, but they matched your pearl grey dress so perfectly. On a normal day, you would have worn something sensible and simply brought the cute shoes to wear around the office.

But today was not a normal day. Today was your anniversary, and you had lovely dinner plans with your men scheduled. You wouldn't be able to come home after work, so you needed to look perfect all day.

You were almost home free when the last step ruined everything. Your foot slid, your bag fell, and you put your hands out to stop your forward momentum. So many bad ideas all in a row.

You felt something pop, heard a snap, and knew immediately you were very injured. Pain radiated all the way up your arm, leaving fire in its wake. Signals weren't making their way from your brain to your hand; it flapped, unresponsive, in your lap.

Thankfully your neighbor, Mrs. Gillen, was on the curb, and while she couldn't help you when you fell, she called 999 for you. She asked if your men were upstairs, and when you shook your head, she called John. You knew she had everyone's number, but as she'd learned, a call to John usually got everyone.

As they loaded you into the ambulance, you heard Mrs. Gillen ask an EMT where they were taking you, only to relay that information into her mobile.

So now you wait in A&E, arm in a sling, hooked up to an IV of fluids and pain meds, to see just how bad things are. You hear your men before you see them, John's voice low, demanding information on you. You don't hear a response, but John's growled response means he didn't get what he wanted.

Next you hear Johnny, frantically shouting your name as A&E techs try to shush him for the benefit of other patients and their families. A nurse comes in, unease in his eyes, and says there are several people asking for you. He tells you they have a code they can call if you're not safe, if the people looking for you need to be directed elsewhere or handled by the authorities.

You roll your eyes and assure the nurse it's okay. You pass him your phone, open to a picture of the five of you on holiday in Majorca last summer. "They're mine," you tell him ruefully. "Best let them back if it isn't against protocol, otherwise you'll be dealing with a big ruckus."

He eyes you hesitantly, despite the evidence on your phone. "Really," you say. "We're together. They'll be harmless if they can see me."

He steps into the hall and you watch him talk with a doctor and a man in a security uniform. They all come in and you have to explain your unconventional relationship, all the while listening to Johnny's shouts grow more panicked and Simon's rumble join John's. The only one you don't hear is Kyle, but you sure it's because he's restraining Johnny, who would be running through the halls pulling open doors if he could.

Finally the nurse, doctor, and security guard leave. Within moments the door bangs open so hard it strains the hinges. The hall light is blocked by a mass in the door, breathing heavily.

"Hi, Simon," you say sheepishly. He steps into the room, strides eating up the distance to where you are. You watch his aborted attempt to hug you. You raise your uninjured arm and he quickly shuffles into the space, pressing his face to your hair and breathing deeply.

"Oh, darling," you hear John sigh, "what happened?"

You feel your face heat and won't meet his eye. His gaze tracks from your injury down your dress to your legs. And those pink heels. You see the realization hit. "Please tell me you did not leave the flat in those shoes." His voice is muffled by the hand he's dragged over his face.

"I wanted to look perfect for tonight," you reply. "And now I've ruined it all," you sniffle.

"Och, hen," comes Johnny's voice. "Ye didnae ruin anything," he coos, coming over, elbowing Simon out of the way to press kisses to your hair and cheek. "We were so worried when Mrs. Gillen called. We jus' wan' ye safe. Yer already perfect." He kisses you again and again.

"Ya mind if we wait with ya, love?" Kyle asks, sitting in the chair next to the bed.

You were nervous about being in A&E alone, scared of what damage you did to yourself. "I wouldn't want you anywhere else," you tell him.

They boys take up various positions around the room, Simon looming behind you, eyes crossed, watching the door; John in the chair near the door, looking at your chart; and Johnny on the bed with you, your uninjured hand in his.

When the attending finally comes in, she pulls up short at how full the room now is. She looks at your men, then at you, and says, "Do you want this medical information shared, or shall we ask everyone to wait outside?"

Suddenly the room feels smaller, the air stuffier. You know it isn't harder to breathe, but your men are expansive, and the idea they might not be welcome as the doctor tells you the extent of your injuries is too much.

"No, doctor," you say, trying to head off a confrontation. "They're with me. And it's best they hear whatever this is from you." You look at John and add, "I'm sure they'll have questions."

The doctor holds your eye for a long moment, and you see the moment she decides to trust you. She comes to the end of the bed and holds her tablet out, waiting for John and Kyle to come around and join Simon behind you.

She brings up the first scan of your forearm and you see it before she says anything, the glaring black line across the solid white bones. Combined fracture of the radius and ulna. She brings up a second scan of your shoulder where the injury is less obvious. There's no bone break, but the doctor points out where you tore the ligaments in your glenohumeral joint.

The more she talks the more the words blend together. You hear surgery. Physical therapy. Weeks of recovery. John's voice joins the doctor's. Then Simon's.

You tune them out, worrying about what this means for your job, for taking care of the house when your men are on deployment, for the burden this puts on the others.

You feel a warm weight on your thigh and glance down to see Johnny's hand, thumb rubbing soothingly back and forth. The sharp line of his jaw digs into your uninjured shoulder enough to get your attention. You turn your head to glance at him. He leans forward, breath warm against your cheek as he whispers, "Stop thinkin' so hard. Takin' care a ye isnae hardship. Hell, it's gunna mean ye cannae tell us tae stop."

You frown and whisper back, "I'm not supposed to be a burden," mouth twisted into a frown.

He scoffs. "Ah dare ye tae tell LT or the Cap'n yer a burden."

A throat clears, and you look away from Johnny. The doctor looks resolute; John's eyes are full of pity. They both seem to wait for your reaction, but to what? You were spiraling until Johnny drew you back to them, but what had John and the doctor said to make them look at you like that?

Your eyes dart between them, mouth opening and closing in your best imitation of a fish until the doctor saves you further embarrassment. "We can't do anything more today. The bones in your arm can't be set until the swelling goes down, so we can only put you in a temporary splint until a real cast goes on in about a week. And I don't want to schedule the surgery until the bone is in a cast, and preferably not until it's healed, but I need more imaging on the ligament to determine how quickly it needs surgery. I'm going to have to send you home with pain medication only. You're going to need quite a bit of help for a while."

At first, the most you manage is a small, "Oh." You clear your throat and try again. "Thank you, doctor. Er, when should I schedule the imaging for? And how should I do that? Oh, and where do I go for the actual cast?"

The doctor sighs and looks at John first before the others. "I gave your, er, friend all the contact information for the orthopedist and imaging specialists. He said they'd make sure you have your appointments set. I also gave him your script for pain medication to help you manage these first few days."

You thank the doctor again as your boys escort you home. You hold the tears at bay on the drive home, waiting quietly in the car when Kyle takes your prescription into the chemist. You make it up the stairs in Simon's arms, cradled against his chest like a fragile bird. It isn't until you're back in your flat that the tears come.

A torrent of pain snakes down your arm, stealing the breath from your lungs when you try to shrug your jacket off. Simon is only a step behind you, and he lunges forward, hands under you as you crumple, sobbing, to the floor.

A pair of warm, calloused hands gently cup your face. You can't see through the tears, but you smell sunshine when Kyle shushes you, telling you they're there.

"I don't want to be a burden," you cry between sobs. Your lungs are beginning to burn, everything throbbing in time to the ache in your arm. "Now I've messed everything up!"

You're picked up, gently, from the front hall. The smell of gunmetal tells you it's Simon. His soft steps thud along the floor. There're too many steps for you to be heading for the den, you think. The realization strikes that you must be going to the bedroom. The arms holding you deposit you in front of them on the bed.

Your hair is maneuvered over your uninjured shoulder and you hear the rasp of the zipper as it slowly descends. Simon carefully manipulates your good arm out of its sleeve while Johnny kneels to take your cute shoes off. Then Kyle and Simon work together to carefully, cautiously shift and support your arm to get your other sleeve off. You have a momentary flash - I'm glad A&E didn't cut my dress - before it's overwhelmed by the agony of getting your other sleeve down.

By the time the top of your dress has been slipped off, you're practically panting, teeth clenched tight to prevent the scream from clawing its way up your throat. The boys get you the rest of the way undressed and into your pajamas.

You look around and notice John isn't in the room. You look behind you to Simon, the one most likely to give you a straight answer, but when you ask about John, he pretends not to know him at all!

John walks in a moment later with some flowers you recognize from the vase in the kitchen. "I know you're disappointed, dove. We all are, but not because we think we're missing out if you're not there." John gets down onto one knee. "This isn't what we talked about. This isn't where we wan'ed to do it." He pulls a ring box out. "Was gonna do this at dinner, but I think you need ta remember, dove, you're our world."

You blink back more tears as Simon's voice vibrates your ribcage. His voice rumbles, " Wan' ya to be ours fully."

You look at Kyle and see the giant grin splitting his face.

You don't have to look to see Johnny's sitting, energy practically vibrating off him in waves, waiting as patiently as a kid on Christmas morning.

Your eyes land on John again, still kneeling. Silly man, putting himself through hurt for you. "Marry us, dove?"

Despite the unfounded hopelessness seeping into your bones. Despite the self-pity drowning you under waves of all you haven't done yet. Despite the agony rippling through your arm to the rest of you. Despite all that, you're answering before he fully finishes his question.

"Yes!"

[smutallyouwant]

One-shot World Chp. 8

" Baby " Sitting

Word Count: 3.4k

M reader x Jihyo M reader x Chaeyoung

[ Cum dump baby sitter Chaeyoung ]

" Mmrhh , take it easy honey" Jihyo groaned while you're on top of her.

It's been 3 months since she gave birth to your son, Mico. The doctor said that her stitches are now fully healed that's why you cannot help but fuck your hot wife early in the morning.

" Honey, it's been so long I've been holding back since " you muttered.

" Ughhh, mhhh, honey it feels so good, I nearly forgot how big you are "

" Then take it fully today, honey "

You pushed your shaft into her womb making her bite her lips and grab your nape. Her breasts are big and it just got bigger due to lactation, her boobs are begging to be freed from her shirt. You unbuttoned her shirt and her lovely plump chest appeared in front of you. You quickly suckled on them as soon as they popped up but still making sure that your pace of fucking your wife never change as this is the key for her to reach her climax.

" Honey, don't suck on them, you can just lick them gently. The milkies are for Mico " Jihyo asserted.

You stopped sucking her titties to make sure that all of her milk nutrients will go to your son. Instead, you kissed her passionately as you made love.

" I love you honey "

" I love you too honey "

You're longing for this sight for too long— your beautiful wife under your body, paired with her seductive gaze as she takes all of your length feeling every ounce of pleasure from making love with you.

" Keep going honey, I'm almost there " Jihyo mumbled.

" Yes honey, go cum for me " You replied.

You fasten the pace slightly making her lean on her back and her spine arced.

" You're cumming honey? I'm cumming too " you asked.

" Yess, yessss! Keep going! "

" UAAAGHHHH! " Jihyo squealed.

Jihyo catches her breath as both of your body twitches, you took more strong thrusts as your cum keeps on spurting inside her.

You leaned on her chest for a while before the two of you hugged each other on the bed.

" You came so much inside me, are you in a hurry to have another child? "

Your wife teased you while she fingers her inside showing you the mess that you made.

" No it's just that it feels so good doing it with you "

" How was your art commission for that company you mentioned last night? "

" It's doing pretty good, I'll be working on the deadline this week so I'm pretty sure I'm going to be busy "

You noticed that Jihyo keeps on fingering her insides and plays with your cum.

" Do you wanna go for another round? "

" Okay honey, let's be quick "

You quickly fucked your wife from behind but got interrupted by your baby sitter's knock on the door.

" Madam, sir, the breakfast is ready "

" Let me finish first honey " you whispered to your wife.

" Yes! We're coming ! " Jihyo shouted.

" Let's stop for now, Mico is waiting for his morning milk " Jihyo exclaimed.

You're frustrated but you can't protest as your wife is just being a good mom for your child. You helped her fix herself and both of you quickly went to the dining table.

" Ohh you're such my good boy aren't you, Mico " Jihyo said as she held your son.

" Look at him sleeping so peacefully, our babysitter is the best when it comes to calming him up " you said as you stared at your babysitter.

Chaeyoung has been your babysitter for 2 months as Jihyo had to go to work after her month leave on her work. You're a work from home artist and frankly you don't even know how to take care of a baby, that's why both of you opted to hire a babysitter / maid. She's responsible for making Mico sleep and taking care of him while Jihyo is gone, cooking, and washing dishes in the morning. You're the one that cooks for dinner and for washing the dishes.

" Hey, Chaeyoung you can eat with us. I'm going straight to work after taking a bath " Jihyo said while breastfeeding Mico.

" No it's okay ma'am I can eat after you finish"

" No, no, hurry and sit so you can wash the dishes right after and you can take care of Mico " Jihyo insisted.

Chaeyoung sat down at the table and ate with you. After eating Chaeyoung quickly washed the dishes and Jihyo took her bath. You went inside your bedroom and Mico is sleeping quietly on his crib when you check him.

" Honey, here's Chaeyoung' s pay for the month. Please give it to her because I'm running late " Jihyo said.

" Take care of Mico for me okay, Chae " Jihyo said as she headed out.

" Bye honey, I'm going now " Jihyo said before the two of you kissed.

Right after you closed the door you went to your wash room and pulled Chaeyoung in.

No words were said, Chae just glared at you intently. She casually bent over the washing machine as you took off her shorts and underwear.

" Mhhhhh, Hhushhh "

Chae gently moaned and both of your breaths became heavy as you pushed your already hard cock into her.

" You're already rock hard sir " Chae said with a lustful smile.

" Yeah here's what you get for interrupting our second round. And frankly your half naked body is just too hot to see in the morning "

" Ughhhh, ughh, mhhhhh ~~ shitttt "

Chae can't help but moan as your pelvis clapped her ass at a moderate pace. You sniffed her bare shoulders, you can smell a mix of butter and garlic from her shirt probably from the fried rice that she cooked but her sweet strawberry scent engulfed your nose into ecstasy.

You reached for her perky tits to fondle them from outside her tshirt and your other arm grabbed her from the neck so you can pull her for a kiss.

" Mhhh~~~ slurps* ~~ughhh sir~~ "

" Sir~~ you really made me your cum dump"

" Yeah, I'm grateful that you're best in doing your babysitting job. But also you're the best at fulfilling my sexual desires for the past few months "

" But you can now have sex with madam Jihyo " Chaeyoung muttered with a grin.

" Why, are you sad ? This may be our last "

As you say those words, it made you think of how you ended up like this with Chaeyoung.

Approximately 2 and a half months ago...

9:30 night time.

" Arrgh, honey we can't do it. My stitches still hurt "

" I know honey, but can you at least give me a blowjob? " you insisted.

" I'm tired honey, I've been taking care of Mico all day long please let's just rest "

" I understand, let's hire a babysitter starting tomorrow so you won't be this tired everyday it's my fault that I don't even know how to take care of our infant son "

" Oww, it's alright honey come here " Jihyo said as she pulled you for a hug.

" But are you sure about that? Full time baby sitters are expensive to have these days " she added.

" It's okay honey, I'll take care of that. I have an upcoming commission for a big company and they're going to pay me handsomely "

" Okay honey, let's look for a babysitter tomorrow, thank you for understanding me " Jihyo said before you two fell asleep.

Your baby sitter arrived after 2 days and her name is Chaeyoung.

Jihyo starts to go to work and you observe Chaeyoung every time she takes care of your son intending to learn from her as you do with Jihyo. But you're finding it difficult because her petite body paired with her strawberry sweet scent makes you think of inappropriate thoughts.

She likes wearing tank tops and loose sleeveless shirts every morning and you can swiftly take a glimpse of her side boobs every time. When time allows it, you take it to stare in her exposed cleavage every time you stand up after eating.

Every time you have small talks with her, it is an opportunity to check out her incredible body. This becomes your habit every time Jihyo goes to work and before you go to your office to continue your work.

1 week after hiring Chaeyoung...

10:30 night time

You walked out of your room to go to your toilet but you were stopped by Chaeyoung wearing her usual black tank top and shorts.

" Sir, where are you going? "

" Oh it's just you Chaeyoung , please don't surprise me like that " you said as you hold on your chest.

" I'm just going to the toilet, how about you? Why are you still awake? "

" I just drank water, I observed that you're always going in the toilet this hour "

" Ahh, yeah " you said with an awkward smile.

You're embarrassed because you can't just say that you're jerking off inside the toilet every time.

" Releasing tensions every time sir? "

" Ahh, yeah hehe my stomach hurts every evening and I don't know why hehe "

You played it cool, you touched your tummy for extra acting points.

" No sir, I'm talking about that " Chaeyoung said as she points at your bulge.

You quickly turned around and made an excuse.

" Oh this is nothing, it's natural I'm heading in now "

" Maybe I can help? " Chaeyoung exclaimed.

" What do you mean ? "

" You're always checking me out sir, do you think I won't notice you glaring at my body every time? "

" Oh no, Chaeyoung that was... "

" You're a perv right? Or should I say you have a high sex drive, but madam can't have sex right now so you just jerk your dick off every night "

" So what? This has nothing to do with you Chaeyoung " you've started to get pissed.

" I'll suck your dick, will that help sir? "

" For one condition, can you please increase 1/4 of my pay? " she added.

" What? Are you serious? "

" Yes sir, I won't tell madam please just increase my pay for 1/4 of it "

" You repeated it, you need it so bad? Alright I'll help you, and you help me, sounds like a fair deal "

You led her inside the wash room, because Chaeyoung can't hide anywhere if ever Jihyo looked for you in the toilet. You leaned on the washing machine and Chaeyoung kneelt in front of you.

" I'm not an easy bottle to squeeze Chae, so you better be good at this " you teased her.

As she removed your bottom, your thick cock slapped her face. It made her face look ecstatic as she licked your base from the bottom.

" Such a thick and long cock sir, and it's not even hard"

" Suck it good, Chae "

" You can freely peek at my boobs, sir, you can even touch them if you want "

Chae said as she swallowed the tip of your length.

Chaeyoung skillfully sucked your dick until it turned harder and harder inside her mouth. Eventually she started to gag and drool flowed out of your cock.

" Fuck, you're so good at this aren't you Chaeyoung"

Her eyes glared at you as she swallowed your whole length into her throat. It shows no sign of quitting and it was so good that you can't even feel a single scrape from her teeth.

Your cock began to throb inside her mouth. One thing that she does that made it feel so good was she applies subtle but precise pressure every time she pulls her face to suck your shaft.

" Yes keep going like that, Chaeyoung "

You can resist the urge to peek at her cleavage, you removed one of her shirt straps so you can fondle her plump boobs while she suckles your dick good.

She licks your head from time to time to rest her jaw but is quickly putting it again inside her mouth. Chaeyoung looked at you with a seductive gaze.

" Yes keep looking at me like that, from now on you're my baby girl okay? "

Chae nods as she remains eye-locked at you for the rest of her work.

" Keep it like that, I'm cumming"

Chae continued the pace. You plunged your dick deep in her throat as you dump your cum in her mouth. Tears flowed from her eyes and cum drips from her lips onto the floor.

Chae headed to the sink to spit your mess and you cleaned yourself in the toilet. Chae headed back to her room and you came back to your wife straight away.

This went on for two weeks, Chaeyoung has been giving you head every night. Until one night you did it in her room and both of you can't hold back from the temptation of lust. A man and a woman inside one room, the two of you ended up fucking each other that night. You came twice that night, one on her boobs after fucking her missionary and one in her throat after she ride your dick.

From then on, the two of you looks forward to it everyday to fuck each other. Whenever you want to relax of take a break from work, you just checks on Chae if Mico is asleep, you makes her suck on you or you just fucked her in your office. Chae basically became you fuck meat, a cum dump that you can fuck whenever your wife is not around or already taking a rest. You're giving her a 25% increase in salary but she enjoys having a sexual affair with you that she never asked for another increase when you started fucking each other.

Back to current time...

" I'm cumming now, baby Chaeyoung"

" Yess sir daddy, give it to me all aargh~~~ give me you cum sir "

" Fill your fuck meat with your semen sir daddy, use my pussy as your sex toy "

" Yess babyy, take it all! "

You plunged your dick deep in her pussy as cum spurts out that made Chaeyoung scream in pleasure.

" ~~~~uyggggghhhh! "

You thrusted a few more to release every drop of your cum deep in Chaeyoung. Chae' s face became blank as she took it.

" Look daddy, I'm dripping wet with your cum " she said as cum drips out of her pussy.

" Clean up now baby, I'll head to my work now. Please take care of Mico " you said before giving her a kiss on the cheeks.

The day went on, you called Chae earlier to suck you off while you brainstormed ideas for your work. The night came and your wife Jihyo arrived from work. Mico is already sleeping. It's already 10 pm late but you wait for her every time so you can have dinner with her.

You went to bed after Jihyo took her shower.

Jihyo sighed as she lays on the bed.

" Huuuush! Finally I can rest, how is Mico today honey? "

" He's still a good boy today, Chae always does a good job " you said before laying one hand on your wife's boobs.

You kissed her and the two of you made out for a minute. But was interrupted.

" Sorry honey I'm so tired, we can just do it tomorrow after we wake up "

" But I'm already hard honey, I missed you " you said.

" You can just use Chae again, honey " she said with a smile.

You're surprised by what she said.

" What are you saying ? "

" I know you're fucking with our babysitter honey, you're going out every night and I can hear her cries and moans from her room one time I went to drink water "

" I'm sorry honey "

You can't look into your wife's eyes as she talk.

" It's alright honey I understand, you're always full of libido even before we were married, so I understand that you can't help but to have our babysitter as you fuck buddy " she said as she palmed both your cheeks.

"Plus Chaeyoung is a fine young lady, I can lend you to her as long as it's just sex and for pleasure only "

" I'm still sorry Honey, I love you so much, and thank you for understanding"

She hugged you as she whispered.

" I'll be sleeping okay? Fuck her besides me tonight "

Your wife gave you an approval and horny look as she said this. She rolled on the other side of the bed and you checked on Chaeyoung from her room, you pulled her into your room.

" What are we doing here sir? Madam might wake up "

" No she's a heavy sleeper "

You closed the door and began making out with Chae besides the door.

" Are you sure this is alright sir daddy? " Chae asked as she cupped you bulge from your boxer shorts.

" We can even fuck beside her and she won't wake up "

You sat on the bed and made Chaeyoung deep throat your shaft.

" gawlk, galwk galkw"

Chae remained her stare at you as she took your length into her throat.

" Suck it like a slut you are, baby "

Chae gave you a lustful look before you pulled her and positioned her on the bed exposing her ass in front of you.

" Aaaagghh!~~~ "

Chaeyoung screeched in pleasure as you fucked her instantly after pulling her hair.

" mmhhhh~~~ mhhhhh~~ mhhh~~ "

Chae' s moaned was muffled by her hand but you removed it.

" It's alright, baby , you can moan as much as you like "

" ~~ ughhhh, okay sir daddy, fuck me, use me infront of you wife "

Sounds of flesh banging and Chaeyoung' s pleasure cries filled up the room.

" My wife is so sexy isn't she?"

" Yes daddy, your wife has a perfect body shape, and have great boobs, she's a perfect fuck meat for you "

" ~~~UGHHH! " Chae screeched in pleasure as you slapped her ass hard.

" Don't insult my wife, you're the only one that is a fuck meat here okay?",

" I'm sorry daddy sir, your wife is so beautiful it makes me envious "

" Daddy please slap your baby's ass more, it makes me feel good as you pound hard from behind "

Chaeyoung drooled like a dog as you abided by her request.

" I'm cumming, baby "

" Yessss daddy! Fill me up with your thick cum, fill your cum dump again"

You ended up cumming inside her again, and you made her come back to her room quickly as you pounced on your wife right after you closed the door.

" You have been listening aren't you honey? Does your husband fucking another girl made you so horny? "

Jihyo nodded, this is the second time that you saw your wife's face as horny as hell. The first time is when you two first made out and had sex.

You hurriedly took of your wife's clothes and fuck her missionary so you can see her beautiful and horny face.

" Does it feel good honey? Fucking Chaeyoung beside me? "

" Yess honey, I get to look at two beautiful hourglass bodies at the same time "

" Do you want to do her better ? "

" Chae' s exceptional, but you're just the best honey, your pussy is my favorite " you said as both of you indulged in sloppy deep kiss.

" But she definitely gives off more in giving head " you teased her.

" Oh, maybe I can learn from her " she teased back.

" Do you want to have a threesome with her honey? " She added.

Just the thought of it was enough for you to reach your climax. You nodded and you fastened up your pace.

" I'm cumming honey "

" Yesss honey, cum inside me "

You hugged your wife tightly as you cum inside her. The two of you laid on the bed and fell asleep naked.

The night went through and morning came.

The day went as usual, and Jihyo was preparing to go to work.

" Don't drain it all to her okay? " she said before pinching your bulge from your shorts.

Your wife teased you before kissing goodbye and going off to work.

END

[mrs-elsie-barnes]

Restraint | Bucky Barnes x Reader | Oneshot 1.6k

You rush to Bucky's side when he's hit with a a super serum booster out in the field so that you can...take care...of him.

Warnings: 18+ smut, if you're looking for an medical ethics this isn't it, p in v, oral (m recieving), unprotected sex, orgasm denial, dirty talk. Topping from the bottom a bit? Bucky is restrained/slightly subby Bucky if you squint, but also dominant Bucky. Bucky is horny, reader can't help herself and they're both crazy possessive.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics and @saradika-graphics

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes

“Where is he?”

“Who?” Sam asked, his warning look at Joaquin came too late. 

“Tell me!” You turned on the younger man, “where the fuck have you put him?” 

“He's -”

“No, it's for her own safety,” Sam pulled Joaquin away, trying to dodge around you. 

“Where's Bucky? Tell me - please.” You were desperate, running through the hanger as soon as you heard he'd been hit, you needed to see him- now, needed to know he was okay. 

“I really don't think-”

“Sam I'm going to find him, I don't care if I have to search every inch of this airfield I'll find him. So you might as well just tell me and get it over with.” 

“Fine, but you've gotta leave him to it, he needs to recover and we don't know -”

“Sam!” 

“Upstairs, room 205.” 

You could hear him before you could see him, the sound of metal on metal unmistakable, and then the door to room 205 slammed shut behind a fleeing doctor and his cry of anger was released into the corridor. 

“Bucky?” You pushed the door open again, peering inside. 

“Don't, baby, just go and I'll come to you when -” he cut himself off, thrashing side to side. 

205 was somewhere between an officer's quarters and a hospital room, it was furnished like a bedroom, but away from the mess hall and regular sleeping areas downstairs. You'd expected to see Bucky hooked up to machines, maybe an IV drip, at least a monitor. 

But Bucky was handcuffed to the bed. The vibranium cuffs attached at each corner, spreading his body across the sheets. He’d shed his shirt and leather jacket, but his tactical pants still stretched over his thick thighs, his boots kicking out despite the restraints around his ankles. 

“Bucky, what happened?” 

“Doll, please -” he grit his teeth, jaw ticking, and set his head back on the pillows, “I don't want you to see me like this, go home, I'll come back.”

‘Like this’ was sweating and writhing, veins bulging in his already flexed muscles, sweat forming on his brow. 

“I can't leave you, what happened?” 

“Hit,” he tugged at his bonds again and you noticed red welts forming on his right wrist, "serum booster something, they were trying to - ugh -” he arched up, a vein in his neck pulsing, “enhance, but I - hit. We don't know - ugh - what it will do to me.”

Despite his otherwise out of control appearance, Bucky's blue eyes were clear and pleading. This was painful, you were sure, made worse by his movement in the cuffs. 

“You need to calm down, baby, stop moving.”

“Can't,” he tugged again, rattling the cuffs. 

“Let me help,” you stepped forwarding, shedding the big coat you'd pulled on when you left the house in a hurry. Your nipples pebbled under the flimsy nightdress you'd been wearing when you got the call. Bucky took a deep inhale at the sight. 

“No, no, no - I'm here because I could - fuck, baby, I could hurt someone. I don't wanna hurt you, go - fucking hell you look so damn delicious - go home!” 

But you ignored him. Instead you knelt on the end of the bed and unlaced his tactical boots, sliding them slowly off and setting them to the floor. Bucky kept his eyes squeezed shut. 

It did feel better to have them off though, and he rolled his ankles in relief, despite the cuffs. 

“Better, baby?” Your hand was on his leg and he managed to get out a quick nod before your hand moved higher, higher. He thrashed. 

“Seriously, you have to stop, what if I -” 

“You won't hurt me, you're a good man, Bucky. And look at you.” 

Your hand left his leg, the bed moved and he cracked his eyes open in time to see you settle in his lap. He bucked up, involuntarily he was sure, and revealed in your giggle as you grabbed his tac belt for stability. 

“Hmm, later, Bucky baby. Let me take care of you first.”

Your hands were back, sliding up his chest. He'd put on weight, since moving in with you, coming home to a hot dinner every night, desserts on the weekend, treats on dates. You liked seeing him well and happy. Beneath your hands the feel of his abs was still there, an undeniable strength, but he was so soft too and you loved that about him. The softness that he only shared with you, that he had gained through your love and care.

“Doll-” his warnings were beginning to sound whiny, pleading, and you could feel his familiar hardness growing beneath you now. 

“Just let me look after you,” you repeated, though you weren't sure if this was for him or you.

Your hands grazed higher, over his pecs, brushing your thumbs against his nipples, and up to his tense shoulders. It would hurt, you knew, to have his arms pulled like that. Especially his left, where the vibranium met skin and muscle. You'd massaged that spot enough times to know exactly where to dig your thumbs to make him say - 

“Fuck - I can't -" the cuffs rattled again, his hips driving upwards and knocking you off balance, leaving you in one of your favourite places, sprawled over his chest. He was thick beneath you, spreading your thighs wide, his cock straining against his zipper and pressing up between your legs.

“Bucky - let me take some of that pressure off, I love you so much - I” 

He tipped his head, catching your lips in a bruising kiss. Your hands clutched at his hair, turning his head to the perfect angle, lips parted you kissed him back fiercly in a whirlwind of his desperation and your need.

“We shouldn't - the doctor said -” 

Your hands were gone again, leaving his hair mussed on the pillow. 

“You're mine, Bucky, I won't have anyone else telling us how I take care of you.” 

The zip on his pants was close to splitting and so was Bucky's sanity, back arched from the bed, teeth bared. Slowly you popped the button and lowered the zip, allowing the hard length of his cock to spring free.

Like the rest of him, Bucky's cock was beautiful, thick and ready, the vein running up the side pulsed beneath your palm, precum beading at his red tip. He looked delicious.

“Do something,” Bucky's hips pumped again and again, thrusting up into your grip. You let go and he growled, low and throaty, body straining against his bonds. “Get your hands back on my dick right now.” 

You shivered, lust coursing through your body like fire. "I thought you told me to leave? Besides, wouldn’t you rather have something else?” You teased, leaning forward and licking a long stripe from his base to his weeping tip, gathering his pre-cum on your tongue and groaning lewdly in satisfaction. 

“Fuck!” He tugged again and the bed groaned. “Do that again.” Instinctively, you lent forwards and wrapped your lips around his head, sucking slowly and dipping your tongue into his slit. It was Bucky’s turn to groan now, head tipped back. 

He was thrusting up, trying to get himself as deep into your mouth as possible and - fuck - you loved him like this. Raw and wild and passionate. You had to have him, the need was so strong you could feel your heartbeat between your legs, arousal making your thighs slide together when you moved to sit up. 

“No, no, no, doll, please, what are you doing?” He pleaded, eyes wide in understanding when you climbed up to sit in his lap. 

Bucky’s cock lay hard against his soft stomach, your lips perfectly molded around it to push the tip against your clit when you rocked back and forth. It was delicious, this temptation, the tease. But Bucky was beyond teasing. He needed to be inside of you now.

With one last pull he broke free of the restraints. His hands, vibranium cuffs still hanging from his wrists, went straight to your waist, lifting you enough to impale you on his cock. 

He was so ready, throbbing inside of you, and the sensation of being empty and then so wonderfully full had you clenching around him immediately, teetering on the edge of an orgasm you weren't prepared for.

“No, no, Doll, this was your idea so you can fucking wait for me.” 

You wailed but clenched down, willing yourself to hold on for now.

Bucky set a bruising rhythm, holding you still as he thrust up into you, using your body to chase his own pleasure.

“Bucky I'm gonna -”

“No you're fucking not, you're gonna hold it like a good girl and cum when I say.” His voice was low, gravelly from shouting.

God. You needed it. It was like an electric shock, the power looking for an escape and ricocheting around your body until every muscle felt sore from holding back. 

“I can't, Bucky, I've got to-” you sobbed, tears welling in your eyes from the effort. 

“Cum,” he grunted, holding you down and grinding you onto his cock while your body went tight, light exploding behind your eyes, “look at me.” 

You opened your eyes and met his, dark with lust, and you twitched again, milking him as he filled you in three harsh pumps.

“Fuck,” he dropped his hands to the bed and you rolled off him. 

“Well, at least you didn't get sick from the serum, right?” You flopped back onto the bed. 

Bucky rolled into his side, looking down at you with a grin on his face, hand pumping his already hard dick again. 

“No ill effects, anyway.” He laughed, before sliding back between your legs. 

[beenreidingaboutyou]

Hopeless, Breathless, Baby Can't You See?

part one of Flashes of the Battle

who? Spencer Reid x reader

content warnings: alcohol, depression, kissing, drinking instead of dealing with emotions, season 8 spoilers, Maeve (is she worthy of a content warning?); if I've forgotten something, please message me!!!

a/n: This is mostly gender neutral, but there is a mention of girls' night! This fic is dedicated to my beloved @alsofoundinpeas thank you for all of your help getting over my writer's block and your encouragement as I fought to finish this! <3

word count: 3.3k

If someone had told you five months ago that you’d regularly spend your Friday and Saturday nights drinking and dancing, you’d have laughed in their face. You weren’t the type, preferring to stay at home with a good book or rewatching one of your comfort shows, but that was before you got too attached and had your heart broken by Spencer Reid.

It all started with Garcia. You worked in a different department, but the two of you often caught the elevator at the same time each morning. One morning you complimented her dress, the next she told you she loved your shoes. The conversation didn’t go beyond compliments for a couple weeks until Garcia invited you out for drinks with the team. You were still relatively new to the area so you jumped at the chance to make some friends. That night you double and triple checked your appearance before heading to O’Keefe’s, desperate to make a good impression and show Garcia she was right to invite you. Most of the team was already there when you arrived so Garcia made introductions and soon you were starting to feel comfortable, relaxing as you realized how easy going everyone was, especially when drinks were involved. JJ was in the middle of telling a story when he arrived and, as cliche as it sounds, it was like time stood still when you laid eyes on Spencer for the first time. You couldn’t help but feel an instant attraction to the man and, unfortunately, you weren’t great at hiding it either. Garcia picked up on it easily despite your efforts to cover up your feelings. Being a self-proclaimed love guru, Garcia took it upon herself to extend an invite to you whenever possible. Soon you were a regular at team outings, even scoring an invite from Rossi himself to come over for a team dinner. Garcia, of course, also made sure to drag you along to girls’ nights, not that you were complaining, even if it was obvious she was using the outings to practically grill you until you finally admitted your crush on him.

This admission was how you found yourself voluntold to attend a showing of some Russian sci-fi film with Spencer offering simultaneous translation. Truthfully, you didn’t remember much about the movie. When you think of that night, all you recall is Spencer’s voice in your ear as he recounts the dialogue back in English, the way his breath felt against your skin when he leaned in closer, making sure you could still hear him over the louder parts of the film. While neither of you would call that night a date, it was the first of many date-like outings. The two of you never put a label on whatever was between you, you were too shy to bring it up and Spencer seemed a little oblivious about how much you cared for him. You never complained, content with spending your weekends at your apartment eating take out and discussing Doctor Who or letting him drag you to yet another foreign film screening (“No one else will go with me!”). The two of you fell into a comfortable routine. If he was in town, you’d spend at least one evening together before he got called away on another case. This arrangement went on for months, until it tapered off. You could tell he was distracted by something or someone and he clammed up anytime you asked, pushing you away. Before long, he stopped returning your calls, stopped inviting you out, and for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out what you did wrong. Maybe it was your fault for not asking what the relationship was, for assuming that you meant more to him than you actually did. Maybe he was going through something and pushing everyone away like he was known to do. You could speculate for days about his motivation, but you’d never work up the nerve to just ask him.

At first, you shut yourself off from the world. Taking the stairs instead of the elevator, turning down invitations to girls’ night, ignoring Garcia’s messages, and pretending you didn’t notice the number of missed calls you had from the team, asking where you’ve been lately or if everything is alright. Some of the calls were even from Spencer, but you couldn’t bring yourself to pick up. Instead you dealt with your heart break the way you knew best: moping. There was usually a pint of ice cream involved, maybe a comfort show or a cheesy romance novel, but you started to go stir crazy, holing yourself up in your apartment like that all the time. Some part of you was desperate to feel something other than hurt, an emotion you were all too familiar with these days. You’d be the first to admit that it was reckless to go the drinking route, but it was nice to just forget about everything for a while. With Garcia still texting you invitations, it was easy to avoid the team when they went out to drink, not wanting to face them and receive pitying looks. You were sure they all knew what went down between you and Spencer. Hell, they probably knew more about it than you did since Spencer never really explained why he stopped spending time with you. Regardless, you were careful about not running into them, knowing they’d be able to read you like an open book and see how much heartache you were experiencing. Your weekends became a blur of late nights and neon lights; your week nights spent pretending like you weren’t lonely despite all of the ‘friends’ you made each time you went out. Some of those nights, you’d bitch about Spencer to anyone who would listen, even lying that you had been the one to ghost him just to make yourself feel better. Other nights you could be found on the dance floor, drink in hand, without a care in the world. The partying was starting to get to you, but you were too stubborn to admit it which means that tonight you’re yet again out on the town, drinking one too many shots. You hadn’t checked your phone since arriving so you had a unread message from Garcia about last minute plans to get drinks, a message you would’ve taken as a sign to find a different bar just to avoid the team. Instead, you’re caught off guard by the sound of JJ calling your name as you down another shot of tequila. You almost choke on the drink, but manage to recover and greet her back.

“I haven’t seen you in forever! How have you been? We all miss you, especially on girls’ night!”

You smile half-heartedly at her, “I’m good, I’ve just been…busy.”

You were sure she knew the real reason you had been so absent lately and you were proven right by her next comment.

“You should reach out to him. He could really use your company right now. He has some things he needs to get his mind off of and you were always good at making him laugh.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, JJ. Besides, if he wanted to talk to me, he would.” You tried to act nonchalant, hoping she couldn’t see through your facade.

“He wouldn’t, not after…Just think about it, okay?” You can tell there’s something more she wants to say, but the look on her face says she knows it’s not her place.

“I will. Look, I gotta get out of here…I have an early morning. I’ll uh see you around.”

“Right. Well, keep in touch. Seriously, we miss having you around.” You could hear the sincerity in her voice, but you knew you needed to get out of there. You could catch up with them later.

You give her a terse smile and head out. When you get home, you toss and turn all night, internally debating if you should take her advice. You didn’t know what she could possibly be alluding to, why would he suddenly need your company? Why now, after so many months of radio silence? Did he even miss you in the months since you’d spoken last? You made a mental list of the pros and cons, trying to remind yourself of how badly it hurt for him to drop you like that, but you found yourself reminiscing about how much you enjoyed being in his company, the way he made you laugh so hard you cried, his constantly rambling about anything and everything, the times you’d both opened up to each other about your pasts, comforting one another when reminded of a painful experience. In the end, your curiosity- and desire to see him again- won out. Despite your poor sleep, you were up relatively early. You sat on your couch with your coffee in one hand, your phone in the other as your thumb hovered over the call button. You weren’t sure how long you sat there before you finally worked up the nerve and pressed it. You nervously bounced your leg as you put your phone up to your ear, trying to ignore the overwhelming sense of dread building inside. As the phone rang, your mind began to wander again. What if he was mad that you called? What if this deepened the hurt you’d been trying to drown out? What if he sent you to voicemail? Would you leave a message or just hang up and pretend the call didn’t happen? What if- your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of his voice; you hadn’t noticed that he’d picked up the phone.

“Hello?” You didn’t realize how much you’d missed his voice until you heard it- one word was all it took for you to be hit with a wave of emotions: longing, heartbreak, maybe even a little anger.

It takes a second for your brain to catch up, but you quickly cover the surprise in your voice as you try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach, “Oh, hey um I know it’s been awhile so you may not be interested, but I was wondering if you’d maybe want to come over and watch Doctor Who? No worries if not, I just thought it might be nice to hang out again.”

You could practically hear his internal conflict in the beat of silence that followed your question. You opened your mouth to apologize and tell him to forget the whole thing, but before you could speak, he answered.

“I…yeah, that sounds nice, actually. I can pick up some food from that Chinese place we like? I assume your order hasn’t changed since last time.”

You laugh softly, “No uh I still go with my usual, but yeah, Chinese sounds nice.”

“Great. I’ll be over in a little bit. See you then”

After he hangs up, you take a moment to process what just happened before it hits you that you should get ready and, taking a glance around your apartment, clean up a little. By the time Spencer arrives, you’ve managed to make both yourself and your place presentable, finishing up right as he knocks.

When you open the door, you can see what JJ meant when she said he needed the company. At a glance, he looks like the same old Spencer Reid, but there’s something different about his demeanor, something new behind his gaze, a pain he hadn’t carried the last time you saw him. You knew better than to ask what it was; he wasn’t the type to just open up like that, regardless of how close the two of you had been less than six months ago. You swallow the urge to reach out and comfort him, instead you step aside and welcome him into your apartment. He nods, acknowledging your invitation and crossing the threshold. You do your best to ignore the way your heart starts racing at the familiar sight of him in your living room, watching wordlessly as he sets the food down on your coffee table. He stands there awkwardly, fidgeting absentmindedly until you speak up.

“You can sit down, you know,” you offer softly as you take a seat on the couch and wait for him to join you.

He hesitantly sits next to you, leaving some space between the two of you. He grabs the bag of food and silently divvies it up.

You both sit there awkwardly, eating wordlessly, neither knowing what to say. You grab your fortune cookie and read your fortune out loud, something you and Spencer used to do every time you got Chinese. There’s something about that old habit that breaks the ice. Before long, the two of you are talking and joking like no time has passed. When it’s time for Spencer to head home, he invites you to an art gallery. You accept, eager to spend more time with him. This was the start of your rekindled friendship.

Soon the two of you fell back into your old routine, spending weekends together when both of you were free. In a way, it’s almost like nothing has changed, as if the two of you had never stopped talking, as if you hadn’t spiraled out over him, but there was something different in the air, an unspoken tension as both of you skirted around the discussion you desperately wanted to have; one you couldn’t work up the nerve to start, scared of pushing him away if you pried too much before he was ready. It took time, longer than you’d have liked, but eventually, Spencer did open up to you about Maeve and her stalker. You didn’t bring up the way he’d hurt you by ghosting you like that, realizing that he had seen your hangouts in a different light. Instead, you comforted him about Maeve and let him get his thoughts off his chest.

You weren’t sure when it had started, but you could almost pinpoint the moment you realized he was interested in you. You may not have been a profiler, but you had taken the seminar at the academy and you were well-versed in body language, especially Spencer’s body language, so the subtle changes in his behavior didn’t go unnoticed. It started small, with things that could easily be explained away as an accident- the occasional brush of the hand or his leg touching yours when the two of you were sitting on the couch. You couldn’t ignore it anymore when he grabbed your hand and intertwined your fingers while the two of you walked through the park. You could feel your heart racing at the unexpected contact, but you didn’t comment on it; you gave his hand a gentle squeeze and continued your conversation. After that, you picked up on more subtle behaviors: the way he would glance over at you anytime he made a nerdy joke, how his eyes would light up when he spotted you, the blush that would color his cheeks when you caught him looking at you. It all added up to one thing: Spencer Reid had a crush on you.

If you hadn’t already caught onto his crush, you would’ve known something was up when he invited you to his place for the first time. Spencer wasn’t exactly the type to let people in his personal space. You hesitantly knocked on his front door, only waiting a moment before he opened the door, as if he had been standing nearby, ready for you to knock at any second. He was clearly just as nervous as you were, another sign that there was something special about tonight. He let you into his apartment and took your coat. The aroma of carbonara filled the room and you couldn’t resist the opportunity to tease him. “You cooked? I didn’t think you knew how to do that.”

Spencer responded defensively, “Hey, I can cook!”

You raise your eyebrow as you shoot him a questioning look, “Since when?”

His cheeks flushed and he mumbled, “Okay, I may have gotten a little help from Rossi. I wanted tonight to be perfect.”

“Why? You have big plans or something?” You joke.

“I do, actually.”

His answer caught you off guard, but he continued before you got the chance to ask what he meant.

“I was kind of hoping tonight could be our first date.”

“You- I- what?” You stammered, trying to process what he just said.

“I just thought we were both on the same page. I know I’m not supposed to profile you, but Morgan pointed out that you show a lot of signs of liking me and once he did, I could see it too. I like you too, but if I misinterpreted something, you can tell me and-”

You cut him off by cupping his cheeks and pulling him in for a kiss. You had a feeling he’d be a good kisser and you were proven right once his brain caught up to the fact that your lips were on his. He rested his hands on your waist, pulling you closer. When you had to pull back to breathe, you mumble “I’d love for tonight to be our first date.”

He smiles and kisses you again, unable to get enough of the feeling now that he’d had a taste. The two of you lose track of time as your fingers tangle in his hair and he deepens the kiss. The smell of burning food causes him to pull back with a curse. He runs to the kitchen and frantically pulls the pot off the stove. He sheepishly looks back at you, “I uh I think I burned dinner.”

You can’t help, but laugh, “Should we order takeout?”

He nods, “That would probably be wise.”

Your “hang outs” with Spencer became dates. They were almost the same, but there was far more making out than previously. The more time you spent with him, the more you found yourself falling, and hard. Spencer made it easy to fall and this time, you knew he’d catch you.

The first time you said “I love you,” it was a slip of the tongue. The two of you were sitting on your couch; you were scrolling on your phone and he was engrossed in a book. There was something comforting about just being in one another’s presence, the two of you didn’t need to talk and sometimes the silence was nice after a stressful work week. You looked up from your phone and quietly watched him, taking in everything from the way his fingers ran down the page to the look of concentration on his face, the way his tongue would dart out occasionally to lick his lips, just like it always did when he was thinking. The words slipped out of your mouth before you could stop them.

You could hear his breath hitch in his throat and he slowly looked over at you, “Say that again.”

You repeat yourself, a little more confidently this time, “I love you.”

You don’t think you’ve ever seen Spencer smile as sincerely as he did when he responded, “I love you too.”

The two of you became practically inseparable after that, spending almost every minute together. In fact, things seemed to be going so well that he had asked you to move in with him. That plan got out on hold when his mom got worse and he brought her back to D.C. It was a long discussion, but you both agreed it would be for the better if you waited until he could figure out the best way to help his mom. Your relationship didn’t suffer for it though. You were more comfortable than ever, still going on dates and occasionally spending the night. That all came crashing down when you got the call that Spencer was arrested.

[deliciousangelfestival]

Nothing Has Changed - 17

Summary: Returning home for peace, you're faced with your tormentor, Bucky Barnes, who is now involved in your family's business.

Character: Bucky Barnes

Warning: Dark, Mystery, Betrayal.

Nothing Has Changed - Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more. 💖💖💖

Knowing Ransom was heading straight into your personal hell made your stomach twist with unease. Something felt wrong—deeply, irreversibly wrong. And you didn’t want any part of it.

After the consultations with Tim, you rushed back to see your father, your mind racing.

Steve immediately noticed your tense expression when you returned. His brows furrowed. “Bad news?”

You exhaled sharply. “I have two jobs for you.” Your voice was firm, brooking no argument. “First, I need you to stay with my dad while I’m gone. And second, a lawyer will be coming to meet you both.”

Steve’s expression flickered with suspicion. “Wait. A lawyer?” He straightened in his chair. “No. I’ll go with you.”

“No.”

“Please.” His voice was almost desperate. “After everything you’ve done for me, at least let me do something to help you.”

“If you want to help me, then do this.” Your eyes locked onto his. “Stay here.”

Steve looked like he wanted to argue, but you continued, your voice low and sharp. “Two doctors. Two. Misdiagnosed both of you. If I hadn’t caught it in time, we’d be burying my father this year.” Your jaw clenched. “I will drag Tony to the deepest circle of hell for what he did. He treated my father like a disposable test subject, throwing whatever drugs he wanted at him.”

A sickening thought hit you—if you had been too late, would you be attending Tom’s funeral instead?

You turned back to Steve, voice cold. “And as for your doctor? He’s lucky we caught it early. If we hadn’t, I would’ve made sure no hospital on this earth would take him.”

Steve swallowed hard. He had never heard you talk like that before. A chill ran down his spine.

🌸🌸🌸🌸

You both entered Tom’s room. He lay on the hospital bed, his face no longer as pale as before. There was a visible difference now that he had stopped taking Tony’s damn medicine. He looked calmer. Healthier.

Seeing him like this made it easier to leave. At least here, he was safe.

You stepped closer to his bedside. “Dad, I’ll be gone for a little while.”

Tom’s tired eyes met yours. “Where are you going?”

“I need to go back home for a bit—to get your things.” You kept your tone light, masking the true reason for your trip. “You’ll be having surgery soon, and Allan said the recovery will take a while.”

For the first time in years, you realized you were saying goodbye like you actually wanted permission to leave.

Tom studied you for a long moment, then nodded. “Let me pray for you.”

“Pray?”

You hesitated.

As a mortician, your father had spent years witnessing grief, loss, and regret. Every day, he worked with the dead—people who could no longer ask for second chances. And before every funeral, he always whispered a quiet prayer for the departed, hoping their souls would find peace. He prayed for the families they left behind, too.

And, though he had never told you, he prayed for you. Every single day.

His biggest regret was never saying goodbye properly before you left all those years ago. Now, with his weakened body, this was all he could do for you.

Tom lifted his hands, looking between you and Steve, waiting.

You could refuse. Or you could take his hands.

You stepped forward, slipping your fingers into his. Steve did the same.

Tom closed his eyes and took a deep breath before speaking.

“God,” Tom began, his voice thick with emotion. “I am grateful for the time I have now, for the second chance to be with my daughter. For the truth that has been revealed.”

His grip on your hands tightened slightly.

“Bless her with strength and wisdom if she ever faces hardship.”

Your throat tightened.

“And help this young man recover. Amen”

Steve inhaled sharply. His lips parted slightly, but he said nothing.

Your chest burned. You almost cried right then and there.

“What hardship?” you scoffed, clearing your throat, trying to compose yourself. “I’m just grabbing your stuff. I’ll be back.”

Tom opened his eyes, watching you carefully.

“I know.”

As you stepped out of your father’s hospital room, the sterile scent of antiseptic clung to your senses, mixing with the tension coiling in your chest. Steve followed, his footsteps quiet but steady beside you. The hallway stretched ahead, dimly lit, eerily silent except for the occasional murmur of nurses in the distance. You glanced at him, your voice low but firm.

"There will be two lawyers coming to meet you."

From your pocket, you pulled out two sleek business cards, their embossed letters gleaming under the fluorescent light. You handed them to Steve. He took them with a furrowed brow, flipping them between his fingers. He had no idea who they were—yet. But soon, he would learn.

Harlan’s advice echoed in your mind: Make connections. Befriend everyone. You never knew what life would throw at you. Back when you were just a junior analyst, Harlan had dragged you and Ransom to every business seminar, every high-profile networking event. At first, you didn’t understand why. But then, you saw it—those rooms weren’t filled with people. They were filled with predators. Deals were silent battles, conversations were well-crafted traps, and everyone was there to hunt for their next big opportunity.

You had no family legacy, no name that carried weight. But you had something better—you worked in finance. You knew where the money flowed. And with Harlan’s bank behind you, you had leverage.

Still, blending in hadn’t been easy. The CEOs, the vice presidents—they wouldn’t even look at a junior like you. Ransom, of course, fit right in. He had the name, the presence, the confidence of someone born into privilege. But you? You had to adapt.

So you did.

Instead of chasing after the top dogs, you turned to the ones no one paid attention to—the young lawyers, accountants, auditors. You collected business cards like weapons, knowing that, one day, they would prove useful. Business was just another game of survival, after all.

And now, standing in this dim hospital corridor, those connections were finally paying off.

"I’m going to sue the hell out of the doctors who misdiagnosed my father and you."

Steve blinked, taken aback by the fury in your tone. You could feel your pulse hammering against your skin, the sheer injustice of it all threatening to consume you. If you hadn’t caught it in time, if your father had kept taking those damn pills… You swallowed hard. You wouldn’t think about that.

"But I need you to keep pretending to be sick," you continued.

Steve's brows knitted together in confusion. "Why? I can start making new art next month."

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. "Do it if you want, but keep it quiet. And whatever you do—don’t tell the gallery owner about your condition."

His expression darkened. "Why are you making this so secretive?"

Because you weren’t sure yet. Because there was something off about all of this—the timing, the misdiagnoses, the way the pieces were falling into place just a little too neatly. A cold shiver crawled up your spine.

"If I get proof, I’ll tell you," you admitted. "But for now, I need you to trust me."

Steve studied you for a long moment, his blue eyes searching yours. Then, he sighed, slipping the business cards into his pocket.

"Promise me you’ll come back."

You hesitated. Lying to him felt wrong, but you couldn’t make a promise you weren’t sure you could keep.

"I’ll try," you said softly.

It wasn’t a promise. But it was the truth.

🌸🌸🌸🌸

Sliding into the sleek interior of your sports car, you gripped the wheel, the leather cool against your palms. With a sharp turn, you accelerated onto the open road, the city skyline shrinking in your rearview mirror. The tires cut through the damp asphalt, the rhythmic sound of the engine steadying the unease coiling in your gut.

As the miles stretched ahead, the landscape darkened. The air grew heavier, the bright city glow fading into an eerie emptiness. The further you drove, the more suffocating it felt. That damn small town was waiting for you.

By morning, you were back.

The sun cast long shadows over the town as you stepped into the hotel lobby, the scent of polished wood and freshly brewed coffee thick in the air. You spotted them immediately—Ransom, dressed in his usual effortless elegance, and several employees from the bank, their crisp suits making them stand out in the rustic setting.

And there was Bucky.

He stood in the middle of it all, giving the bank representatives a tour of the property, his voice smooth and commanding. He fit here too well—too at ease, too comfortable.

Then, his gaze landed on you.

His face lit up, and before you could react, he was beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders in a casual side hug.

You shivered.

It wasn’t from the cold. It wasn’t from surprise. It was something else—something instinctive. You wanted to pull away, to put distance between you and him, but you forced yourself to stay still. Show nothing.

"How’s your dad?" His voice was warm, almost too warm.

You swallowed down your discomfort. "He’s getting surgery."

Bucky’s eyes widened slightly, feigning shock. "I’ll visit him soon."

"You should visit Steve too," you said, testing him.

"Steve?" His brows furrowed, confusion flickering across his face. "What happened to him?"

"He got into an accident. Hurt his hand."

Bucky let out a short laugh, shaking his head. "Oh, boy. He should’ve listened to me. I told him he wouldn’t fit in the big city."

Your fingers curled into a fist behind your back.

Not a single trace of sympathy. Just that smug, knowing tone like he had been right all along.

You bit the inside of your cheek, forcing yourself to exhale slowly. "Why did you choose to work with this bank?" You kept your voice even, neutral.

Bucky met your gaze, and for a second, something unreadable flickered in his eyes. Then, he smirked. "Simple," he said smoothly. "Because it’s linked to you."

The way he said it—like there was something deeper beneath the surface—made your stomach tighten.

Silence stretched between you.

You needed to get out of this conversation.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Ransom looking in your direction. He had already noticed you, his expression unreadable but sharp. Without hesitation, you stepped away from Bucky, breaking the tension as you walked toward Ransom.

Bucky didn’t stop you.

As you reached Ransom, he gave you a slow, knowing smirk. "Didn’t think I’d see you back here so soon."

"Neither did I," you muttered.

Now, it was just the two of you walking together. And for the first time since you arrived, you could finally breathe.

Ransom walked beside you, his hands in his pockets, his usual air of arrogance softened by curiosity. “Do you think it’s worth investing here?” he asked.

You didn’t hesitate. “My advice? Don’t even waste your breath.”

His brows lifted in amusement. “Woah.” He let out a low chuckle. “I knew you hated your hometown, but this place actually has potential. There’s a lot of undeveloped land. And near the hospital, they’re planning to build a retirement home. Give it a few years—this town could be the getaway spot for people escaping city life.”

He was joking, clearly expecting you to roll your eyes or throw a sarcastic jab back at him. But when he noticed how still you had gone, how you weren’t meeting his gaze like usual, the humor drained from his face.

“Ransom.”

His expression turned serious. “Yeah?”

You exhaled slowly, keeping your voice low. “Don’t trust James Barnes.”

Ransom frowned, but before he could question you, you stole a quick glance over your shoulder.

Just as you suspected.

Bucky was still standing where you had left him, his hands tucked into the pockets of his tailored slacks, his expression unreadable. But he wasn’t talking to anyone. He wasn’t moving.

He was watching you.

Your stomach twisted. There was something about the way he lingered, something unsettling in his quiet observation. It wasn’t just idle curiosity. It was like he was studying you, waiting.

A slow smirk ghosted over his lips when he caught you looking.

You turned back to Ransom, your voice firmer now. “I mean it.”

Ransom’s jaw tightened, his gaze flickering between you and Bucky in the distance.

Something was off.

And you weren’t going to ignore it.

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[robertsfloyd]

Begin Again

Chapter One

A riding accident leaves you broken, mentally and physically. Your mother thinks the best move for you is to return to your grandfathers ranch, the place where you fell in love with riding.

But your grandfather has a new ranch hand. A hot new ranch hand. A ranch hand who just so happens to be your childhood enemy. Jake fucking Seresin.

Enemies to lovers, cowboy au

It had all happened so fast. One moment you were fine, riding along as you normally did. He was confident, calm and sturdy beneath you. It was just you and Percy against the world.

The next moment, heavy machinery was in your path, driving towards you. It would have been fine, all stuff you and Percy had dealt with before. But then the sirens started blaring, lights flashing and men shouting. There was nothing you could do to keep Percy calm, to stop him from bolting.

Percy took off with you. You held on, that much you could remember.

The next thing you knew, you were surrounded by paramedics and your horse was missing. You couldn't remember the ride in the ambulance. You couldn't remember being wheeled into the hospital. You couldn't remember being told that your poor, sweet pony had been found.

Found, but not in good condition. You were delirious, high on pain medication and whatever else they had given you when you agreed to pay whatever it took to get him better. But you would have said it regardless. You would have paid anything for your Percy.

You didn't know what cost more, your hospital bills or Percy's vet bills. You and Percy were in awful shape. All of the injuries the doctor listed off to you, from the fractured leg to the concussion; you could feel all of it. Back pain, pain in your shoulders. Your entire body ached constantly.

Your mother was at the stables for all of Percy's vet visits. She had grown up around horses and there was nobody you trusted more to look after him while you were stuck in bed. She couldn't do everything, you knew, didn't have time to muck out his stall or sort his food. But that was what you paid your stable fees for, for a member of staff to look after him.

The update picture she sent to you kept you going while you were in the hospital. Everything the vet said to your mom was sent to you in text messages, all decisions about Percy left up to you.

At the end of the first month, Percy was going on daily walks with your mother, but you were unable to move without pain and the help of a mobility aid. You were miserable, but your horse, your entire world, was on the mend.

The first time your mother took you to the stables, you cried. You had been discharged from the hospital and was finally back home. But being stuck in the house, watching shitty daytime television was driving you crazy, and your mom could tell. So, she got you into the car and took you to see Percy.

The sympathetic stares almost had you hobbling back to the car as you made your way across the yard. But then you saw Percy's head over the top of the stable door. You rushed towards him. It was still a hobble, and you were definitely risking yourself more injury at your attempt at speedy, but you had to get to him.

His ears were forward as you stumbled over, only remaining on your feet when one of the grooms grabbed you. "Thanks," you said as you pulled your arm out of his grip.

"Big guy missed you," Ben said, patting your horse's neck. You tried not to pull a face at him.

But then it hit you. "You've been looking after Percy?" You asked and he nodded, unable to keep the grin from his face. All of your money, going to Ben Ritter.

There was nothing wrong with Ben. He knew how to take care of horses, had worked as a groom for several years now. He was good on the ground, good when it came to grooming and mucking out the horses. It was in the arena where you judged him harshly. Whips and spurs used with enough force to leave marks on the horses. His rough hands pulling on the bit until it drew blood.

Yeah, you hated Ben Ritter.

Ben patted Percy's neck and something stirred inside of you. You didn't want him touching your horse, but you couldn't get close enough to stop him. You were as close as you could get without Percy touching you. Even if he stretched out his neck, he couldn't reach you.

"Thanks, Ben," you said through clenched teeth.

Ben kept speaking, but you took none of it in. You just wanted a moment alone with your horse, was that too much to ask? He fed Percy a treat from his pocket, watching as the horse reached towards you, trying to investigate if you had more. When you made no move to touch Percy, tings became awkward..

Clearing his throat, Ben leaned against the stable door. "You'll be back to riding in no time," he said, using all of his willpower to not glance at your fractured leg.

Asshole.

"But, until then, you'll need someone to ride Percy for you, right?"

"No!"

Several eyes were on you now.

"No," you continued. "Nobody is allowed to ride Percy, okay?" The vet hadn't cleared him for riding, anyway. Even if they had, you didn't want anybody to ride him. "My mom is gonna hand walk him and that is it," you said, loud enough for everybody on the yard to hear. "Touch my horse and I will end you."

With his hands raised in defence, Ben backed away from the stable door.

You used your crutches to hobble back towards your mother. Her look of pity was the worst. She'd had riding accidents of her own before, but nothing like this, nothing that left her unable to touch her horse.

Percy stretched his neck out towards you once again, but you were gone. Fuck, you were going to cry again. Your throat burned as you held it all back. You weren't going to cry again, not surrounded by your competitors.

"Can we grab his saddle before we go?"

Your mom nodded and pulled open the car door. She helped you into the passenger seat and laid your crutches across the back seat. Your lip wobbles as you stared towards the arena in front of you. Somebody was riding, jumping a small course. That should have been you and Percy.

For five minutes, you sat in the car. Tears fell, but you didn't sob. You just let them fall. When your mother opened the boot and placed Percy's saddle inside, you wiped the tears away.

You drove away from the yard, silence filling the car. You didn't have it in you to turn on the radio. You passed a horse and rider on the road, and panic took hold of you. They had no idea how dangerous it was.

Your mother glanced at you out of the corner of her eye. "You'll get back on," she muttered, mistaking the look on your face as jealousy. "Soon you and Percy will be back in the ring, getting win after win."

You didn't want that. You didn't want to get back on and start competing again. Maybe this was it for you. Maybe it was time to hang up your boots, retire Percy to a field and let him get fat and lazy. Maybe you would sell him on, sell him to somebody who could properly take care of him. How could you take care of him when you couldn't even touch him?

You wiped at your eyes.

"Wanna get ice cream?" Your mother asked.

Shaking your head, you folded your arms over your chest, ignoring the slight pain in your shoulders from the slight movement. "Just take me home," you mumbled and kept staring out of the window. For a few minutes of the drive you passed nothing but fields of horses. Percy should have been in the fields, if it wasn't for the accident, for the vet's recommendations.

Take me home. But you didn't go to your home, your little apartment in the city. Your mom drove past your street and kept going, taking you back to the house you had bought for her. You couldn't be trusted in your own apartment, your mother told you when she first took you to stay with her. You were too independent for your own good.

Your mom helped you out of the car and into the house. She sat you on the sofa and and headed into the kitchen to make you some lunch.

You hated this.

Your independence was gone, forced to rely on your mother for almost everything. You couldn't go five minutes without feel like you were going to choke on your own tears. Hell, you couldn't even touch your horse without panic seizing you.

Your Percy. He deserved so much better than this. He deserved so much better than you.

The thought of selling your horse had never crossed your mind before today. And this was the second time in a few hours the thought had entered your mind. It would break your heart, to sell him to someone else. But maybe it was the best thing for him. To get him healed up, back to his best self and sell him to someone who could ride him to his full potential.

Just six years ago, your grandfather had bought Percy for you. He was only young when my grandpa picked him up for you, barely backed. Percy was your grandfather's way of saying that he was proud of you, of where you career was going. Back then you had been show jumping on a smaller scale, only when you went to stay with him in the summer. He used to let you ride his rodeo ponies into competition until he bought you Percy.

You used to feel so smug, beating the all of the girls training their expensive show jumpers while you rode your grandpa's cutting horse, Chewie. By that point, your grandfather had retired him from the rodeo, used him to move cattle from pasture to pasture.

Nothing could beat hearing your name called by the announcers as you took first place.

Well, almost nothing. There were just two things that could. Having the rosette placed on Chewie's bridle and hearing your grandfather cheering your name from the stands.

That wasn't who you were anymore. You couldn't just jump on any of your grandpa's horses and ride into the ring, taking first place. You couldn't even jump on your own horse and ride into the ring, full stop.

You were no longer the girl your grandpa could be proud of.

Your stomach made a noise and you reached for your crutches. It took too much effort, caused too much pain, but you pulled them close and got them under your arms. Pushing yourself to your feet, you used your crutches to hobble towards the kitchen.

As you got to the kitchen door, you paused, keeping it partially closed in front of you. Your mom spoke and you took a moment to listen in.

"I think this'll be good for you," your mom whispered to whoever was on the other end of the phone. Oh, so she was talking about you.

Your mom paused as whoever was on the other end of the phone responded. That part you couldn't hear, having to wait for your mom to start speaking again.

"If anybody can get her back into the saddle, you can," she said and you felt panic settling in. No, no, no, no. "She's miserable and she won't admit it."

But she was right, you were miserable and and you weren't going to admit it to anybody. The fact that your mother had picked up on it through your silence was impressive, since you didn't think you were giving anything away. Maybe you weren't as stoic as you thought.

"I'll bring it up to her in a minute," she said and you backed away from the door. It wasn't the easiest thing with your crutches, a miracle you managed to keep yourself upright while reversing. "Thanks, dad. I'll speak to you later."

She ended the conversation with your grandfather and you listened as the phone hit the kitchen counter. As your mom walked towards the door of the kitchen, you hobbled back to the sofa. Sitting down, you rested your crutches on the cushion beside you and tried to gain control of your breathing.

Pushing open the door, your mother strode over to you, a plate in hand. She placed it down onto the coffee table in front of you and sat in the armchair across from you. "Midge," she said and you stared at her. You breathed in, tasted the smell of tuna in the air. Gross. "I've just gotten off the phone with your grandpa."

You pushed the tuna sandwich across the coffee table and sat back. "Yeah?"

She breathed in and leaned forward, elbows against her knees. "We thought it would be a good idea if you went to go and stay with him for a while. You and Percy."

You sucked in a sharp breath, sharp enough to make you cough. But you recovered quickly and stared across the room at her. Go to stay with your grandpa, at his ranch. You couldn't do it.

You couldn't fucking do it.

"No," you said and shook your head. "I don't think it would be good for Percy."

Your mom rolled her eyes at you and stood up. "Midge, honey, I'm not giving you a choice."

***

The backwards cap on his head did little to protect his face from the sun. He took it off to wipe his brow and returned to mending fences.

Chester Morgan watched from the corral. It didn't matter how many times Jake told him I got it, he still watched. Chester trusted him, Jake knew that for a fact, but he still watched, still make sure he was okay with his workload.

Jake wasn't the man in his seventies. He could cope with his workload. He was the one worried about Chester.

He dog pulled at Jake's shoelaces as he worked on fixing the barbed wire fencing. Last time the cows had been in this pasture, they'd used this hole in the fence to get out. Jake had spent the night with Javy, trying to get each and every cow back onto Chester's property.

To this day, Chester still didn't know about their little adventure. It was a secret Jake and Javy would take to their graves.

The hammer hit the nail. Jake held the other three between his teeth and continued with his work.

Wednesday. Jake's favourite day of the week. It was the day he and Javy headed out to Blue Sunday with Brisket and Donald. Javy clocked Jake and Brisket around the barrels and Jake helped him while he practiced roping. They couldn't exactly practice with the bulls outside of the rodeo.

After that, they would head out to The Drunken Cactus to see what trouble they could get into. Trouble that usually had long legs and flirty smiles. There was a reason Jake was called a bad influence growing up.

Jake hammered another nail into the wood. As soon as he was done, he pulled on it, tested the durability. Nothing. No creaking or groans from the wood. There was a reason Chester had him fix everything around here.

A whistle cut through the air. Jake looked towards the corral, to where Chester was waving his arm. Waving him over, he realised. Dropping his tools, Jake walked over.

It made no sense to him, why Chester had Chewie in the round pen. Chewie had been enjoying retirement for the last two years; he definitely didn't want to be dealing with whatever Chester was putting him through. Training him like he was a foal.

"Get on him," Chester said as soon as Jake reached the round pen.

He stared at his boss. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Chester replied sharply, but it wasn't vitriolic.

Almost reluctantly, Jake climbed into the round pen. He jumped over the fence and strode towards a stationary Chewie. His ears were forward as he stared, nostrils flaring as he began calling for Jake.

"I know, I know," Jake muttered once he had reached him. "I don't know what he's playing at."

Chester held Chewie's reins as Jake climbed into the saddle. Something he had done a hundred times before, but not on a horse as small or old as Chewie. If Jake was uncomfortable, Chewie certainly was.

Jake patted his neck as Chester passed the reins up to him. "Just keep 'im walkin'," he said and stepped back, returned to the middle of the corral.

Chewie was a cow pony. It had been a good, long time since Jake had ridden him, since he'd ridden any horse that wasn't Brisket or, on occasion, Donald. Most of the horses at the ranch were old, living out their retired years. Jake knew Chester wanted more for the ranch than retired horses and cows, but they weren't in the position for anything else.

Not yet, anyway. But Jake had seen the plans in the office, the drawings Chester's grandfather used to do. His dream was her dream, the one she had as a girl, visiting in the summer.

Chewie was bouncy as Jake rode him, like he was holding back. No, he was holding back, Jake knew him too well to think any differently. Last time he had been ridden, properly ridden, it had been around the show jumping ring, flying over fences. He had been younger then, but he still had it in him.

"Get him on, now," Chester said and Jake urged Chewie on. Just a faster walk, that was all he wanted. But Chewie sped up into a trot.

"Jesus, Chew," Jake mumbled as he tried to bring him back down. But there was nothing he could do but sit there and let him go. Even turning him towards the fence did nothing. But that was Jake's fault; he was the one that had trained him around barrels.

Chewie went as fast as he could in the round pen. Not very fast in the slightest. A canter and nothing more. But his ears were forward as if he was running free. He was enjoying it and, admittedly, so was Jake.

Finally, he slowed. He brought himself back to a walk and put his head down, neck stretched out. "All right," Jake mumbled as he patted Chewie's neck. "Are we calm down?"

Chewie stopped and shook. The first time he had shaken his entire body with Jake on him, it had thrown him, send him tumbling off the side. But it had become a classic brisket move over the years. Ever every run he shook as the buckle bunnies surrounded them.

Releasing a sigh, Chester approached. "That wasn't really what I wanted from you, Chew," he mumbled as he pulled them into the middle of the round pen, leading Jake like a child on a lesson. "Think we can make him beginner friendly by Friday?"

Jake's eyebrows rose as he jumped from the saddle. "We're not trying lessons again, are we?" He asked as he loosened the saddle and pulled it from Chewie's back.

Chester shook his head. "No, nothing like that," he said, leading Chester from the round pen.

Something was going on, something Jake wasn't allowed to know about. There was no secrets on Morgan Ranch, not unless he was the one keeping them.

"Get those jumps from the shed after lunch. Then you're free to go."

The jumps in the shed. Jake remembered making them at sixteen. It had all been a bit to impress some girl, so that she could use them to practice her show jumping. It had worked, sort of. She was impressed by the jumps, but she was more interested than them than Jake.

That was ten years ago, now. He thought about her sometimes, when he saw the bucking bronco at The Drunken Cactus, when her impressive, long standing record was on display. Many cowboys had tried to beat her record, but nobody ever had, Jake included.

Jake did as Chester asked and set up the jumps. He set them in the field, putting them out in an easy course. They weren't high jumps, but they could be made bigger. Brisket would hate it, I knew, but there was something that made him want to try, something like that longstanding record in the bar.

***

The car was new, the trailer, too. Just big enough for two horses, but the paint work seemed to shine in the afternoon sun. Expensive, no doubt. Not the sort of trailer found in Silver Ridge, Montana.

That begged the question, what were people like that doing here?

Jake stopped what he was doing, leaned on his broom as he watched. They drove past the paddock, past where Jake was working in the barn, and pulled up outside of the house. Leaning his broom against the the faded red door of the barn, He folded his arms over his chest and watched as the driver of the car climbed out.

Stephanie Morgan. Shit, it had been years since she and Midge moved out of Morgan Ranch, years since she followed Midge across state lines, to Colorado. Even after hours of travelling, she looked good. But Stephanie Morgan always looked good, a MILF in her own right. Jake watched as she pulled open the back door of the car and pulled out a pair of crutches.

She walked around to the front of the car, to the other side. Pulling open the door, she handed the crutches to whoever was in the passenger seat and stepped to the side.

You.

Midge Morgan.

Jake had never seen you look so frail before. Even when you were teenagers, and he dared you to take Chewie barrel racing. Chewie was happy to work, but you weren't a barrel racer. You came off at the first barrel, falling head first into the barrel. Jake had grabbed Chewie, holding his breath until you stood up like that.

This was so much worse than that.

You looked... Broken.

Slowly, you used your crutches to move towards the house. Stephanie stayed beside you, ready to help at a moment's notice. "Steady," she said, voice carrying across the ranch.

One of your feet were flat on the ground, the leg that you were balancing on. You moved your crutched forward just a little, your other foot following it. You touched your foot to the ground but didn't put your foot flat. Your jaw was clenched with every movement you made.

Broken, but you were so damn pretty.

Swallowing, he strode forward. "Hey!" Jake shouted, and Stephanie turned towards him. You kept on forward, so concentrated that Jake wouldn't have been surprised if you didn't hear him. He held out his hand, ever the polite cowboy, and Stephanie shook it.

"Little Jakey Seresin?" She asked, almost in shock.

His jaw twitched. He hadn't been little Jakey Seresin since before you left for Colorado. His teenaged years had been spent trying to shake the nickname and, until now, he thought he had done it. "Yep," he said quickly, dropping her hand.

"What're you doing here?" She folded her arms over her chest, but her voice was plenty friendly. But she was too busy looking at Jake to notice you getting further and further away.

Jake pulled it had from his head and held it down by his leg. "I work here now," he said, hoping his smile was somewhat charming. But Stephanie was still staring at him, so he kept speaking. "I fixed up the room above the barn and moved in."

Stephanie let herself smile. "Well, isn't that nice," she said and looked around. Her eyes landed on you, not moving fast enough to be far away. "Could get you Percy out of the trailer and put him in the barn for us?" She asked and gestured to the trailer.

Your trailer. Just like it was your car. Jesus, how much money did you make? Jake spared you one last glance, watched as Stephanie returned to your side, and walked around to the back of the trailer.

Pulling out the pins, Jake lowered the ramp. "Hey, Percy," he said as he walked past the partition in the middle of the trailer. His gray ears were forward as he turned his head towards Jake, a snort leaving his lips. He let him smell him, let him investigate his shirt and pockets as he untied him. "Nice to meet you, too," he mumbled as he raised his nose to Jake's face.

Pressing on his chest, Jake walked Percy backward. Percy did exactly as he asked, his metal shoes hitting the trailer ramp.

As soon as he was out of the trailer, Percy looked around. He kept his ears forward as he turned his head towards the paddocks, his attention on the other horses. He lowered his nose to the grass at his feet and began easing.

In the sunlight, Jake could better see the navy blue rug on his body. On either side of the rug, towards his rear end, was a logo. MM. Midge Morgan, your logo. Jake swallowed as he shoved his hand down the front of the rug and pulled it forward. It was thin, not offering Percy any additional heat. It was all for show.

Jake walked Percy into the barn. He walked close to him, nearly tripping Jake up as they walked inside. As soon as they were inside, the other horses put their heads over the stable doors, ears forward as they sniffed to investigate. Brisket reached for Jake as he walked past, kept his neck stretched out to sniff Percy. "Be nice," he said to him, warning in his face as He pulled open the door to the empty stable beside him.

Unclipping the rope, Jake stood against the stable door as Percy walked inside. He kept his nose down, sniffed the bedding. As he shut the stable door, he dropped down, neck stretched out as he rolled.

For a big, impressive showjumper, he was sweet. Curious, investigative. When he stood, he moved his nose towards the bars separating him from Brisket and sniffed.

You and your horse back at Morgan Ranch. What the hell were you doing here?

its here!! my cowboy jake fic! i'm so obsessed with this, you have no idea - 4.4k so far! i got half of the second chapter ready to go

just a btw, midge is named after highland midges! it has nothing to do with her height

[raymeonz]

Swallow It Down, Then Take Me

( Heeseung )

Your boyfriend just came back after a long week of working his ass off. All he wanted was you. But this is what he came home to.

"Give me a kiss," he begged.

"Not in a million years, Seungie. I’m sick, I don’t want you to catch it too," you marked the end of the discussion with a firm voice.

"Baby, have you taken your cough medicine?" he asked, clearly concerned but still trying to convince you.

"I’ll have it soon. Give me a—" You didn’t finish your sentence before a loud cough interrupted you.

Heeseung immediately went to the kitchen to grab a cup of water, returning with it and some cough medicine, thinking it was for you. But... no. He drank it himself.

He didn’t even wash it down with water, and before you could protest, he pulled you into a kiss. He tried deepening it, but you stopped him, confused.

"What? It's fine, right? You're just in time for your medicine," he murmured, his fingers tilting your chin up as his dark eyes locked onto yours.

"If you won’t give me a kiss, I’ll give you a healing one instead," he smirked, his voice dripping with mischief.

Before you could even think to protest, his lips were on yours, the bitter taste of cough syrup slipping past your lips as he deepened the kiss. His tongue teased against yours, making sure you swallowed every drop. You gasped against him, but he only tightened his grip, pressing you closer.

"See? Now we’re both medicated," he whispered against your lips, his breath warm and teasing. "But I think you need another dose... just to be safe."

Without waiting for a response, he grabbed the bottle of medicine, downed another dose, and smirked.

"Round two," he murmured, pulling you back in, this time with even more intensity. His lips moved hungrily against yours, his hands gripping your waist as he deepened the kiss, making sure you had no escape. "Doctor’s orders."

But soon, the effects of the cough medicine began to kick in. The warmth of his embrace, the lingering taste of the syrup, and the exhaustion from the long week all melted into a sleepy haze. Heeseung let out a deep sigh, his arms instinctively tightening around you as he nuzzled into the crook of your neck.

"You’re so warm," he mumbled, his voice drowsy. "Now I don’t wanna let go."

You felt your eyelids growing heavy too, the comfort of his body against yours making it impossible to stay awake. With a soft hum, you curled into his chest, his heartbeat steady beneath your ear.

Within minutes, the both of you drifted off, tangled in each other’s arms, wrapped in warmth and the lingering effects of your so-called "medicine."

[beatrixst0nehill]

Alice rubbed her belly, flaunting her pregnant form eagerly. "Soooo, this is very exciting. H-Hey guys, surprise! I'm pregnant.... My parents basically gave me an ultimatum. Either detransition or start pumping out kids. Like.... I was thinking of just detransing, like what trans girl doesn't pump her cock thinking of that??? But I chickened out and said I wanted to start breeding! Granted, I was bringing home a new guy or three.... or five.... basically every night. And my parents had to listen to me giggle and moan and get my fat, girly ass pounded for hours, all the while having to deal with the walls shaking and hearing their spoiled princess get spanked and smacked around. I think they really regret talking me into transitioning but it's too late now!

I actually received an already-pregnant womb. Allegedly I'm six months along but I've only had this womb for three months. The hospital got it out of some ditzy college girl who was testing experimental fuck machines. A student cranked it up when she was testing it on her ass and it scrambled her guts. Soooo, lucky me? Is this big for six months? I feel like it is. My doctors assured me everything is normal and it's becoming very common for trans girls to become breeders!

There is one teeny tiny problem. So, they gave me a choice when daddy brought me in to get my womb. Either they don't do anything and my belly just gets bigger and bigger with no birth canal until the hospital scoops me off the street to give me a C-section, or they give me a birth canal. I thought the first answer sounded a bit scary. Apparently it's pretty popular and really exciting for the girls to see how long they can last without getting dragged to the ER and having their kids scooped out. I asked for a birth canal. Ummm, let me just show you."

Alice removed her baggy skirt, lifting her cock with great heft, hanging down to her knees. She slapped it onto the table in front of her camera. It was even thicker than her upper arms, totally swollen, with a gorgeous head the size of her fist and the color of her lips, its urethra drooling precum. "Look at this!" Alice stroked her cock, reaching forward, slipping four fingers into it with ease. "Oh fuck, it feels so good! Look, I can fist my cock! I may or may not be encouraging guys to fuck it, too....... My balls are gigantic, too. How am I supposed to stay a girl with balls the size of grapefruits??? Ugh, I swear I must cum a gallon a day at least, it's unbearable how bad my erections get after only an hour or two without sex or masturbating. I'm told it's a similar level of horniness to most cis pregnant girls. Hurray, I guess?

I am also on very high doses of estrogen to keep my hormones in check, but still! My cock used to be like five inches, and my balls were like marbles. My doctor says they're almost finished growing but I'm not sure I believe him. Either way us trans girls with wombs are apparently kept pregnant by the state. I thought I'd have to go out and get fucked but nope! I have no choice. I'll be kept pregnant forever now, forced to push as many kids as possible out of my 'birthing shaft' as they call it. Since technically it's too big to actually fuck girls with. Doesn't stop them from trying. I get soooo many pregnant girls who excitedly approach me, feeling my belly, asking how far along I am, or to see how swollen my pussy looks, only to lift my dress or skirt and they gasp..... Then these girls take it as a challenge, trying to suck it, stroking it, bending over and begging me to 'try my hardest to ram it in their holes'. It's kinda fun getting so much attention from girls all of a sudden but it's exhausting, too. And I'm only six months? How do girls walk with such giant bellies???

Oh well, another four months or so until the big day. I'll definitely be filming it. Hopefully my cock can withstand pushing out so many kids. I can't wait to try! I feel like even at this side my poor cock might burst trying to do this but I promise to put on a good show either way! I love being pregnant, and hopefully this is the first of many more! ❤️"

[bearr02]

Safe and sound |Chapter thirteen|

Pairing: Hybrid!ot7 x f!reader

Chapter warnings: maybe slight angst, fluff

Summary: You have worked at a hybrid rehab and adoption center for years, enjoying being able to help people others only see as their animal side. You thought you might end up taking in one or two, what you didn’t expect however, was to take in 7.

Genre: fluff, angst, eventual smut, non-idol au, hybrid au, strangers to friends to lovers au

Word count: 1k (sorry it’s so small 🥲)

Member’s hybrid types: Namjoon: Bear, Yoongi: Bobcat, Hoseok: Ferret, Jin: Wolf, Jimin: Red panda, Jungkook: Bunny, Taehyung: Marble fox

A/n: so it might not be too good, I need to go back and re-read the storyline because it’s such big gaps between my chapters, but I’ll try to improve on that!!!

Last - Next - Masterlist

On your way back to the facility, you called Mr. Dubose, alerting him of the situation that had just occurred.

By the time you’d reached the facility, Dr. Martin was already waiting in the lobby, ready to check Taehyung for any injuries.

You and Jimin followed Dr. Martin to his office, worriedly watching Taehyung. Dr. Martin lays him on the bed in the room, starting the exam to ensure Taehyung is injury-free.

After the examination, Dr. Martin came out of his office to tell you about Taehyung’s condition. “He doesn’t have any major injuries, just a sprained wrist so he’ll be in a brace for about 2 to 3 weeks and 2 bruised ribs. He also does have a pretty big bruise on his back from the impact, and he will be sore for a good while, but thankfully nothing is broken.” He smiles.

You exhale softly in relief, glad he doesn’t have any broken bones. Jimin slowly peeks around your body, “can… can we see him?” He whispers, his eyes flickering to Dr. Martin’s office. He nods, stepping to the side to allow you and Jimin to pass through.

Taehyung looks up, a small, tired smile spreading across his face. Jimin sniffles, going over to Taehyung, taking his hand in his.

Jimin kneels beside the bed, I’m so glad you’re okay.” He whispers, sniffling. Taehyung reaches out and gently wipes away his tears. “Me too, Minie.” He says softly, his voice a bit weak. You walk over to them, “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here to stop them from sending you, Taehyung.” You frown slightly, running your fingers lightly over the brace on his arm.

“You couldn’t have known… besides, I didn’t technically have anything keeping me here.” He smiles reassuringly at you. Jimin looks up at you, sniffling, “will you make sure Tae stays here from now on?” You nod, however somewhat hesitant.

Jimin looks back at Taehyung, not noticing your hesitant nod. Taehyung stares at you for a moment, being the only one who had noticed your hesitance. You excuse yourself, stepping out into the hall, looking for Dr. Martin.

You walk down the hall a little, finally spotting him. “Dr. Martin!” You call out, jogging over to catch up to him. He turns and looks at you, smiling, “Yes, Y/n?”

“I wanna take Taehyung and Jimin.” You blurt, unsure of how to beat around the bush with a statement like that. Dr. Martin’s smile falters at your words, his eyes widening slightly, “Y/n, you already have 2 hybrids at home. 4 would be a lot.”

You nod, your eyes filled with determination, “I know, Doctor, but I can’t see Taehyung go through pain like that… or see Jimin worry like that.. not again.”

Dr. Martin sighs, understanding where you’re coming from, “you’re going to have to ask Mr. Dubose.” You nod, smiling at him, “thanks, Doctor.” You walk down the hall to Mr. Dubose's office.

You knock on the door, “come in!” Mr. Dubose calls out after a moment. You open the door and step inside, shutting it behind you. Mr. Dubose smiles, “Y/n! So good to see you! How’s your head?” You look up at him, “fine… I actually came here to talk to you about Taehyung and Jimin…” You step closer to his desk.

“Ah yes, how is he? I planned to stop by and see him later this afternoon.” You nod slowly, “he’s okay… he has 2 bruised ribs and a sprained wrist… but nothing major…” Mr. Dubose nods, “at least it’s nothing major. So what about them is concerning you?” You sit in the chair in front of his desk, “well, I was hoping I’d be able to take them home… with me… indefinitely…”

Mr. Dubose’s eyes widen slightly, “indefinitely? But you already have 2 at home with you.” He frowns slightly, “that’ll be a big responsibility.” You nod, “I’m aware, sir… but I feel this is for the best… for both Tae and Jimin.” Mr. Dubose hesitates, “Y/n, this is big… you do know you can’t just take every hybrid that comes through here home with you…” You nod, starting to grow frustrated.

“I know, Mr. Dubose, and I’m not asking to take home every hybrid…I just feel it’s best if I have these two with me as well. I’ll sleep easier at night.” Mr. Dubose sighs, knowing you won’t stop until you get your way, “fine. I trust you’ll take good care of them.” You smile, “thank you! Thank you, sir!”

He dismisses you with a wave of his hand, “yes, yes, of course, no need to thank me. Now scram! I have work.” He smiles. You smile and nod, quickly leaving his office.

You practically skip down the hall to Dr. Martin’s office, excited to tell Jimin and Taehyung the news.

You knock on the door, pushing it open after a moment with a wide smile. They look at you, confused by your wide smile, “where did you go?” You shut the door behind you, walking over to them, “I was talking to Mr. Dubose, and… I can take you guys home with me.” You watch their reactions closely.

They both stare at you for a moment, Taehyung blinking a few times in surprise, “f-for real?” Jimin whispers, as if expecting you to take it back. You nod, sitting on the end of the bed. Jimin’s eyes fill with tears and for a moment you think he doesn’t want to go, but then he throws his arms around you in the tightest hug you’ve ever gotten. He buries his face in your neck, whispering ‘thank you’ like a mantra, sobbing against your skin.

You wrap your arms around him, holding him close, Taehyung slowly sitting up, wincing as he does so. You look up at him, gently nudging Jimin so you can move closer to Taehyung. Taehyung scoots a bit closer as well, wincing, but moving nonetheless. He hugs you as soon as you’re in reach, resting his head on your other shoulder, “thank you…” He whispers, closing his eyes.

Last - Next - Masterlist

A/n: Sooooooooo………. What do we think?

Series taglist (open):

@blancflms @dreamerwasfound @pettyandprettyy @watermelon2319 @yoongistangerine @danielle143 @canarystwin @catlove83 @joonie-tunes @staygirl1986 @singukieee @juju-227592 @bangtan4everr @revnamjinn @anjoellamorte @jewishmommy @talyaaas-blog @btskzfav @sugathy @btsizlyfe @00ihatesnaku @sophiaj650 @savagemickey03 @prettydancingdamzel @levislifeline @strawblueberrys @readerfia @deepestfacedevil @tired7o7 @svnbangtansworld @m00njinnie @nancynotperfectbutperfect @tinybasementmaker-blog @shycreationdreamland @iammeandmeisiam

If your user is highlighted in bold I was unable to tag you, and please lmk if I forgot anyone!

Permanent taglist (open):

@viankiss @lizzymizzy-blogg @teddymoon06 @rln-byg @skyys-universe @misstressmina @ldysmfrst

[noriimura]

namgyu headcanons !

content warning: dark! namgyu, drugs, smoking, addictions, family issues, selfharm, mention of death

a/n: here we go again, part 2!! although Valentine's Day has already passed, but i want to congratulate you, I hope you celebrated this holiday well with your loved one.

he has no empathy. he doesn't want to and doesn't try to understand people. as a child, when he was very young, he often ran away from home so as not to see his parents, who, as always, quarreled, fought or fucked, he always tried to understand them, that it was difficult for them and it would pass, but no one wanted to understand him. he felt sorry for everyone, if his friend fell, he was the first to run to ask if everything was okay, if someone's pet died, he sat and cried with him, but no one was ever interested in him. how is he? why is he sad? is everything okay with him? neither friends nor parents, no one cared, and after a while he didn't care, soon he lost all human feelings, his parents began to quarrel more often and he stopped feeling sorry for them, he just walked by as if it were necessary, if someone complains to him, he always says "wow well, it happens" or some similar short phrase, he does not know how to react to human suffering and feelings and what to say, he just speaks without thinking about how his interlocutor will react. It's none of his business. he doesn't care.

I think as a teenager he was engaged in self-harm, he hated himself and this world, he didn't want anything, he never thought about death, he didn't consider it a way out or some kind of reasonable solution, but he considered self-harm as an excellent way to relieve mental pain, translate it into physical, after a couple of years namgyu started using drugs, forgetting It's about this kind of self-harm, but the white stripes on his wrists will always stay with him, a flashback to the past.

he hates winter like hell, he hates snow, he hates going outside in winter, he takes a lot of sick days just to stay at home and not go outside once again. He doesn't want to feel the cold and the unpleasant sensation of small flakes of snow that lay on his warm skin, burning it with cold

he also has a rather weak immune system, which is why he is constantly ill.

I also think he has anemia, which makes him freeze quickly, whether it's summer or spring, when a light wind blows, you can soon see him covered with a huge amount of goosebumps, he constantly walks around in huge sweatshirts two sizes too big, hiding his hands in his sleeves to keep warm.

he doesn't give a damn about his health, he doesn't care, he doesn't treat colds and takes sick days only to rest at home, if there is a complication from some minor illness, he will not go to the doctor saying that it will pass by itself.

if he doesn't care about his health, let alone the dosage of drugs, he never calculates a gram, doing everything by eye, he doesn't think at all about an overdose and terrible consequences, he doesn't care, but it's all before the first overdose, he won't think about it until he finds himself on the verge of life and death

namgyu has a terribly disrupted regime, because of his work at the club, he can stay up all night working, filling out and signing regular papers, which is part of the duties of the MD of the club, after a sleepless night, he can sleep through the next day or drink a third cup of coffee just to stay awake, often neglects sleep for a couple of hours at the computer, instead of relaxing on his days off.

when he rolls up the sleeves of his black shirt, you can see a huge number of patches on his hands, because of the punctured forearms with syringes, he sealed the fresh blue-purple bruises and scars with patches so that it would not catch the eye of the club's visitors.

he doesn't like bright, acidic or too saturated colors, he prefers dark and gloomy shades, whether it's the interior, some objects or clothes, it seems to me that he can most often be seen dressed in black or dark clothes.

he is very irritable, if something goes wrong as he planned in advance, something does not work out, someone tries to insult him, if someone distracts him when he is focused or busy with something, he will lose his temper, I am sure that everything can come to a fight in which namgyu will strike the first blow.

He has a lot of bruises on his body that appear for no particular reason, especially on his legs and arms, he does not remember where they came from or where he could have earned them if he did not fall or hit anywhere.

he hates stupid people, it's not even about knowledge, but about their development, and development for him is a sense of humor, a sense of humor means a lot to namgyu, if a person jokes funny on any topic, then when it's necessary and knows how to close his mouth in time, namgyu already likes it, he hates pathetic attempts to make jokes from people who don't know how to do this, hate people who joke stupidly and expect some kind of reaction from people, it's a pity.

he carefully chooses his friends, thoughtless acquaintances are not about him, he needs to communicate with a person for a couple of months, communicate on various topics, asking various questions to understand whether they can connect or not. however, a couple of really funny jokes, the presence of individual charisma or a couple of silly old-fashioned jokes and he will already be interested. That's basically how he became friends with Thanos.

he smokes a lot and smokes more likely not even for some kind of reassurance, but for aesthetic pleasure and just because he is addicted or bored, he may not worry or think about anything, he will just see a bright pack lying on the table and go smoke because it is a habit, he is used to smoking often and a lot and he's not going to do anything about it.

[theotherbuckley]

Cancer sucks. Ravi’s pretty sure that if you asked anyone, they’d agree.

He doesn’t want to be the guy who says his cancer is worse than any other cancer or anything, but, well, childhood cancer is a special kind of bad.

He was diagnosed with juvenile chronic myelogenous leukaemia when he was five years old. Apparently, he’s lucky he didn’t get it sooner, but he’s not sure anything about this situation is lucky. His parents took him to the hospital after his fifth nosebleed in one week, and when he’d stopped gobbling down their prawn curry and instead would only eat one or two bites before refusing.

He doesn’t know what’s happening at first, the doctors take him to several different rooms for different tests. He’s not afraid of needles, but he wonders if he should be.

He ends up in a room with a bed, which he thinks is pretty cool. It looks over a park with trees that he wants to climb. The doctors take his parents aside, but they quickly return to him. The doctor looks upset, but he walks over to him anyway and sits down beside him.

“Ravi,” he says, coughing before continuing. “Do you know what cancer is?” the doctor asks, and he shakes his head.

The doctor sighs but forces a smile on his face. “I need you to tell your parents that you’re sick. That your blood is sick. Can you do that?”

Ravi doesn’t really understand, but he tells his parents anyway. Watches in real time as his parents' faces crumple. He doesn’t really want to be here anymore, but the doctors say he’s not allowed to go home.

The first time, he’s in and out of the hospital for six months. It feels like forever.

The treatment is not fun. He already didn’t feel like eating, but now he keeps wanting to throw up. He cries when he does. His mother rubs his back when he throws up into the toilet, whispers sweet words into his ear. She tells him how brave he is, how strong he is. He doesn’t feel strong at all. He just wants to go to sleep.

One of the nurses brings him a teddy bear during one of his treatments, the bear has a bandage on his arm where a plastic wire is attached, leading to a bag on a stand, just like the one in Ravi’s own arm.

He names the bear Violet.

When the nurse isn’t looking, he unwraps the bandage from the bear and pulls off the wire before throwing it in the bin. Violet doesn’t need to go through what he is.

Violet gets to be normal.

He hopes maybe one day he will be too.

It’s winter when his doctor tells him that he’s in remission. He doesn’t know what that word is, but he tells his parents that he’s not sick anymore.

He doesn’t tell them that he might get sick again.

His mother hugs him, cries and shakes, but she’s smiling. His father doesn’t, but he gives him a tight-lipped smile and a pat on the back.

He goes home, and he’s allowed to stay home. He puts Violet in the bottom drawer, underneath his shorts. He doesn’t need her anymore.

The doctor calls their home a week after he’s left, his mother passes him the phone. They tell him that he has to pay lots of money. He pretends he doesn’t notice the worry etched across his parents’ faces when he relays the information.

But he gets to go to school now, so he focuses on that instead. The rest of the kids have already started school, they’re all friends already, and Ravi didn’t think he could feel anymore like an outsider. When he introduces himself, the teacher tells him to tell the class something special about himself. He says that he had cancer.

The class doesn’t know what that is. Ravi thinks that they’re lucky.

Tagging some people who were interested: @whatwouldeddiedo @thelovewehad @bidisasterevankinard @084thoughts @bipitybopitydoo @laundryandtaxesworld @that-bi-fan @fangirlthreepointoh @little-boats-on-a-lake @dailyravi I’m really enjoying writing this actually I’m giving him so much trauma help 🥹😭 let me know if you wanna be tagged in future updates 🫶🏽

If I wrote a fic about Ravi and childhood cancer and how he’s always struggled to make friends/family outside of his immediate one because as a kid he was in the hospital and not at school and now he’s always the one who’s slightly on the outside never quite in a group would anyone wanna read that?

[corallapis]

It’ll soon be goodbye, then. Will it? Well, you’re off to Gallifrey to be President! I suppose your Time Lord subjects will find a TARDIS that really works, and get us both home? Who said anything about Gallifrey?

[chuuhees]

its so funny how much i dislike visiting doctors when thats my moms like. fave thing to do

[sidras-tak]

Accessibility takes too goddamn fucking long.

My brother was paralyzed in October 2023. We got him home from the hospital (in Texas, when we live in Iowa) in a clunky old hospital chair. He hated it. He was scared and angry and in pain and his life had just changed forever and he couldn’t do anything for himself in that wheelchair. His first goal (aside from learning how to transfer) was to get a wheelchair. My family was lucky enough to afford one so we thought it would be easy enough. Nope.

We couldn’t buy him a wheelchair. He needed a prescription. For a wheelchair. A doctor had to examine him and declare him in need of a wheelchair. It wasn’t good enough that he had scans and tests showing tumors cutting off his spinal cord. He needed his primary care doctor to examine him during a physical and write a prescription. He was making 2-4 transfers a day, tops. He had no energy to get to a doctor. Home health was in and out every day. He had no time to get to a doctor. He didn’t get a prescription for almost a month. Then it had to go through insurance.

We asked if we could skip insurance and just buy a wheelchair for him. Nope. They wouldn’t sell us one, not even at full sticker price. It needed to be approved by Medicare. We ordered a wheelchair, a nice one, a good shade of green, sporty, small. It would let him move around the house. He would be able to cook, to reach drawers and get stuff from the fridge and brush his teeth and put his contacts in at a sink. We were told it would take awhile, maybe two months. Silently we all hoped he would be around to see two more months.

He went on hospice care on a Saturday in March. On Monday, I was calling his friends to come see him before he died. I got a call on his phone. It was the wheelchair company. They were about to order his wheelchair, she said, but there was an issue with insurance— had he stopped being covered by Medicare? Well, yes. When he started hospice care, he got kicked off Medicare. The very nice woman I talked to told me to call her if he resumed Medicare coverage so she could order his wheelchair. He died less than 12 hours later.

We ordered that chair for him in early December. Medicare didn’t approve the order until March. He was dead before they got around to it. He wanted that fucking wheelchair so badly. The only reason he had any semblance of independence and any quality of life for the last five months of his life was because the wheelchair company lent him an old beater chair, a very used model of the chair he ordered. If I could go back and change one thing about his end-of-life, I would get him his dream wheelchair. He told me again and again he couldn’t wait to get it, so that he could feel like a person again. He made the best of what he had with that old beater chair, but it still makes me mad to this day. He was paralyzed. He needed a chair that afforded him dignity. We had the money for it. And yet, we were left waiting for five months, for a chair that wouldn’t even get ordered until the day he died.

[all-shelby]

@lau219 hope you don’t mind me adding my thoughts? Loved your headcanons! 💕

(Going with the scenario anon suggested of broken dominant arm)

Emmet - I can definitely see him on the couch, after arriving from the hospital, arm in a sling, arguing how orgasms are the best painkiller… (and how he can’t really take care of himself at the moment 😉)

Robert - will be so, so happy at any attention you give him after. Because he had so little attention when he was a kid, he probably doesn’t expect you to make a big deal out of it. Like this man will feel so comforted by some extra pillows, or tea, or kisses, he may get a little emotional, and will love having you around doting on him and not letting him do anything, asking if he’s in pain.

Jonathan - knows how to patch himself up, but if it’s bad enough, and if you’re worried enough, he’ll be okay with going to a hospital. Then on the ride back home, he proceeds to criticize everything the doctors and nurses did. Actually thinks it’s very sweet to have you bring him stuff while he’s stuck in bed/sofa. Tells you it’s not necessary, but won’t stop you, and will smile a little at your affection. Will want you close to him, as he’s feeling just a little needy.

Hey! Any headcanons for what the boys are like when they're injured? Think like...broken dominant arm. How would they behave, pain tolerance, and they would like to be taken care of?

Thank you for the ask! Along with injury, I also included what the boys are like when they’re sick (at the bottom) 🤧. Answers below the cut.

Cillian: Pain tolerance is average, and if it’s a serious injury, he’ll try to act tough and belittle it, and he’ll try to hide any signs of pain and remain calm. He’s almost too casual/calm about it. He could be bleeding out and he’d still just say, “Eh, might not be a bad idea to have a doctor take a look, I guess.” Will welcome a kiss or two, but insists that he doesn’t need to be fussed over, despite that he’s on his deathbed. 🤣

Emmett: Pain tolerance is very high and he tries to act as macho and unaffected as possible when he gets hurt. He’s very much the “just rub some dirt in it” kinda guy, and you have to practically drag him to a doctor or the ER. But then he loves milking the injury after the fact in order to get some attention. “You know, I heard that lots of sex helps injuries heal faster.” 😉

Leonard: Very high pain tolerance and also acts very macho and unaffected, even with a significant injury. Tries to hide from you any injuries he gets and doesn’t tell you about them or how they happened because he doesn’t want you worrying or overreacting. But, if you do find out, he secretly loves how you’ll then lovingly dote on him, after you tell him what an idiot he is for hiding it from you, of course. ❤️

Robert: Pain tolerance is average, but he still tries to act like whatever the injury is isn’t bothering him at all. Tries to act manly and nonchalant about it because he doesn’t want you to worry, but also loves when you fuss over him and take care of him, so he doesn’t go out of his way to hide it from you. Will happily let you lecture him about whatever stupid thing he did to cause the injury, as long as you give him plenty of kisses afterwards. 💋

Tommy: Extremely high pain tolerance and will brush absolutely everything off unless he’s literally about to die. Doesn’t tell you about a single thing and the only times you find out is if it’s an injury in an area he can’t hide. Truthfully, he adores that you care and worry about him so much, but he’ll hardly ever let you dote on him, and if you try to lecture him, he just shuts down. But on the rare occasions when he lets you fuss over him, he’s smiling to himself the whole time because you’re so sweet and adorable. ☺️

Raymond: Very high pain tolerance and also keeps everything a secret if he can. If you do find out, he’s belittling it all and telling you not to worry about him, and he refuses to go to a doctor. Tries to just take care of himself with whatever you’ve got laying in the medicine cabinet, and you have to practically pin him down to the floor before he’ll finally let you take a look. Still acts like he couldn’t care less and is annoyed, but secretly loves the worry and affection you show for him as you alternate between loving on him and calling him an idiot, repeatedly. 🩹

Jonathan: Has the highest pain tolerance of them all, because he can mentally focus and distract himself enough to power through the pain. Also doesn’t like to worry you, so he tells you a very watered down version of whatever happened to him and makes it seem insignificant. He does, however, enjoy a bit of indulging in your concern after the fact, and so he’ll let you dote on him because not only does he actually enjoy it, but he knows how much you enjoy taking care of him. 💗

Jackson: Extremely high pain tolerance and actually enjoys a bit of pain. Tells you to leave him alone and stop bitching at him for getting hurt, unless part of your lecture includes a blow job. Secretly, he enjoys your worrying and fussing over him, but he’ll never admit that…except when he’s groaning it aloud when he’s about to come from the aforementioned blow job. 😈

When they’re sick — as with all men — they are GIANT BABIES. All of the boys; every last one of them, even Tommy or Jackson. They all act like they’re in the worst condition possible, whine and moan, ask for you to do everything for them, and want to be showered in attention and affection, have you bringing them food, medicine, blankets, etc., and want to hear you constantly telling them “Aww, poor baby.” 🙄

[eats-the-stars]

feeling pretty frustrated lately. i feel like my sister is in a "eat your cake and have it too" situation that is making me kind of resentful.

living situation is this: our dad, me, my sister, her boyfriend, their two kids (2 and 5).

the problem is that I think my sister is, without any malicious intent, using me as a replacement parent to her kids. because her boyfriend does jack shit and gets away with it because I'M picking up the slack.

he's not a bread-winner or a stay-at-home dad. he makes basically no money at his "hobby-job" as a martial arts instructor. like, barely breaks even, which i know because my sister does his taxes (and everything else). he does TWO chores. puts away clean laundry and unloads the dishwasher. he also watches the 2yo for a few hours 5 days a week. like 2-4 hours tops. nothing else.

i work Friday/Sat/Sun, sister is home sat/sun, and on Fridays, or if i work a Wednesday, he takes the 2yo to his mom's place so she can watch him.

in comparison, I watch the 2yo 4 days a week from the moment i wake up until my sister gets home at 4pm with the 5yo.

I do mealtimes, bath-times, brushing teeth, homework, bed-times, doctor/dentist appointments, outings, play-times and also contribute to rent, get groceries for the kids and my sister, cook for them (sister also buys groceries and cooks, boyfriend does not), and clean. with 2 toddlers the cleaning is intense and constant. especially in the kitchen. i'm sweeping, mopping, vacuuming, scrubbing, washing dishes, preparing meals, doing a ton of other random cleaning like wiping countertops, scrubbing down the stovetop, taking out the trash, crushing cans. you know, the stuff you do when you live somewhere.

my sister works as hard as i do. both in terms of making money at her job (I have two jobs, she has one, both with comparable pay). she cooks and cleans.

my issue is that her slacker boyfriend is doing jack shit and living the easy life on the back of the work I'M doing to raise his fucking kids. it's a hard place, because I love my nephews and I'm happy to get to make lunches and help with homework and play in the bath and the backyard and take them to the apple orchard and grocery shopping and play hide and seek and color and read them bed-time stories. it's amazing. BUT. it's also incredibly galling to see him sitting pretty with the title Dad and no effort put in to back it up.

Like, I do all this work, every day, because I love my nephews. I want to make them scrambled eggs and pancakes and keep them clean and happy and healthy. So I'm DOING things to feed them and clean them and make them happy.

He's just sitting on his ass occasionally changing a diaper and making sure they don't totally trash the house and does two chores. And that's it. Done. And somehow that's enough? Everyone else is fine with this?

Slowly losing my mind. Also pissed that my sister is too spineless to either force him to step up, or kick him out. But it makes sense, because the easiest option for her is to do nothing.

She gets me playing the role of Parent #2, and she gets to keep her boyfriend around and avoid the drama of a breakup or the effort of forcing him to do more.

The only one losing out here is me.

But it's hard because I love my nephews and I'll probably never have kids of my own. I would be perfectly fine stepping up to be Parent #2 for my nephews...if Parent #2 wasn't already right here doing fuck all with no pressure to step up his game.

I might need to have another serious talk with my sister about this (I had one before and she said she would make him do more, but "more" just seems to be...not a lot, so...).

If she does nothing, though, I'll just continue being cold to this waste of space and hope that the best reward will be his own fucking kids loving their Auntie more than him. Fingers crossed they get older and think back and realize he was all talk and no action.

Helps that he hates going on any kind of trips with the kids, so he literally hasn't even been there for like 85% of our family outings.

Also one of my nephews has apraxia that makes him incapable of speech, so he uses an AAC device and also ASL, but guess who isn't bothering to learn any sign language? Ding-ding! You are correct, deadbeat dad! all he knows are a handful of simple signs that would be really hard to avoid learning when u live w/someone who signs.

So yeah, sit there jamming out on the couch and sweet-talking my sis all you want, douchebag. I don't know if your kids will hate you for being "just some guy" who also lived in the same house, but they sure won't love you as much as they love me.