#cause i have wire stuck in my head

[voiced-and-animated-by]

Today's gender is voiced by Ron Perlman and Animated by Worthikids (and brought to you by dpxdc brainrot)

[nanivinsmoke]

✩ Grey Sweatpants

✩ dilf!toji x fem!reader

✩ warnings & tags: ovulation, age gap (readers in her mid 20s & toji is late 30s), creampie, breeding kink, overstimulation, blow job, couch sex, etc.

✩ ✩ living with your ex-boyfriend/baby daddy is a hassle, but sometimes it’s for the best.

“bye my babies! have a good day at school—I love you!” you waved from the door as you watched your kids boarded the yellow school bus; with it driving off into the distance. you closed the door and sighed, turning around to see your messy living room. you rolled your eyes and began to pick up the clothes that were strewn across the floor.

‘his ass couldn’t help me clean up before he left?’ you cursed to yourself, thinking about your lazy ass baby father.

the two of you had one child together, your daughter; tomie, who was the light of your life and the one of the only good things to come from your previous relationship. in addition to your daughter, you gained a step-child; megumi. even though you & toji never married, you considered the boy as your own—loving him like his mother should’ve.

toji and megumi were forced to move in with you after a fault wire in the house caused a fire. you had speculated that toji was the cause for it, but he kept denying it everytime.

toji stayed home most of them time, since his job didn’t need him currently and you thought having him around would be good. but, you thought wrong. he hardly helped around the house, leaving you to clean the messes that him and your children made, he hardly cooked—which you were kinda glad about; you didn’t trust him to defrost chicken. however, he was an amazing dad to your two kids and wouldn’t knock him for that.

as you swept the floor, the sound of the front door being opened and closed alerted you and you turn your head, ready to fuss at your baby daddy. “toji! when are you going to—.” toji stepped into the living room, sweaty and shirtless—and as your eyes followed a sweat bead that dripped down his chest, the hem of his grey sweatpants caught your attention; and they fixtated there.

you could see the imprint of his dick and your thighs pressed together, as you began to remember all about it and how it made you feel.

“yer’ gonna quit your staring or what?” toji’s deep voice brought you back to reality and you immediately went back to yelling at him.

“can you start fucking helping me around here? im getting swamped! its bad eno—.” he walked up to you and cut you off, holding your chin up with his hand. “alright, you take a bath and I’ll handle the house. I’ll cook something to eat too.”

never in a million years did you think toji would cook or clean for you, but you weren’t about to pass it up. you nodded and scurried off to the bathroom that was adjoined to your bedroom and immediately drew a nice bubble bath. you put in your favorite scents and even lit a few candles, before you turned off the steaming water.

peeling off your clothes, you cringed when you got to your blue panties—the coldness of your arousal stuck to your lips as you peeled it off. it’s amazed you how he could still make you feel that way, without even touching him. it’s like your body was molded for him, it craved him at every moment. and as you sat in the bathtub trying to forget about it, your body and mind betrayed you. just the thought of him freeballing in those grey sweatpants, had your nipples hardening and your cunt gushing.

toji’s body looked like it was sculpted by gods, it was perfect. the way each ab and muscle were defined was mind boggling. you found yourself laying against the cool porcelain tub, teasing your hard nipples while you pinched your clit between two of your fingers.

“fuck toji~!” you moaned out softly, the subtle pleasure coursing through your body. you stopped pinching your clit and started rubbing it, eyes rolling back as it throbbed on your middle finger. imaging toji’s fingers replacing yours on your pretty little clit had your toes curling and your cunt spasming like crazy; cumming hard as the bubbles sloshed around you.

you sat there breathless for while before you got the strength to clean your body and drain the tub. rummaging through your closet, you found one toji’s old tshirts that your kept—slipping it on along with your slippers, before walking out of your bedroom.

the smell of food cooking made your stomach growl and as you turned the corner into the kitchen, the sight in front of you made you cover your mouth with eyes. your baby daddy was standing in front of the stove, stirring up whatever food was in the pan his muscles flexing with each movement. those infamous grey sweatpants sat low, showing the start of his toned ass.

you wanted him so bad right now, you could feel yourself getting more aroused by the second—and you had to do everything in your power to stop it, despite the thumping you felt down below.

“is this a dream? never thought i would get to see you cook. it’s like a miracle,” he snickered as you teased him, still stirring up his dish; before turning the burners off.

“taste this, mama~” he called you by the old nickname he gave you and it made you melt. you opened the mouth and accepted the savory taste of chicken and rice, unable to help the moan that escaped your mouth. his scarred lips turned up into a smirk and he grabbed two bowls, making one for him and you. toji led the way to the living room, putting the bowls on the coffee table, before going back to get you both something to drink.

“after all this time, you’ve decided to finally cook. why haven’t you cooked? and you cleaned the house? what’s the reason—you think you’re getting some?” you teased and he let out a roaring laugh, scooping up a spoonful of his food, before he got serious.

“I never cooked because I knew you enjoyed it. I could tell it was a way to help you distress and unwind, the same thing with cleaning the house. this is your house, I don’t wanna mess it up—mama~” your heart warmed, you did love cooking and cleaning, especially when you were stressed. you felt bad, he didn’t consider this as his house and you never gave him the opportunity to. even though the breakup between you two was mutual, you always gave him hell.

“toji….this is your house. despite everything, i love having you here—and the kids can see it too, i think they like seeing their parents together.” you spoke softly, innocently placing your hand on his crotch. he smiled and pinched your nose, turning to drink his beer; while you stared at his pretty face.

the way his adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed the rich beverage, had you pressing your thighs together—feeling yourself get wet. your eyes traveled to where you hand was and you slowly started to rub that spot, causing his eyes to advert over to yours. he raised his eyebrow and watched you, that sexy little look on your face that he knew too well—made his dick swell.

“it’s been a while, think you can handle me still?” he asked, a smirk etched onto his lips and you nodded slowly. he put down the bear bottle and pulled you into a sloppy kiss, his tongue swirling on yours. you bit his bottom lip as you pulled away before pulling his sweatpants, making his cock spring free. he was huge, his tannish cock had nice girth to it—along with two veins running from tip to base. he looked bigger than you last remembered, and it made your mouth water; from fear and sheer arousal.

you swallowed and immediately enveloped your mouth around it, the sticky—salty taste of his precum entering your mouth, making you moan out. “shit girl, just like that~” his hand pushed your head down, making you take him deeper in your mouth. you gagged from the force, but quickly got used to it. spit, pooled and trickled out the side of your mouth, and the sounds of your lewdness echoed through the living room.

he reached over behind you, and lifted up your t-shirt, shocked to see that you weren’t wearing any panties; but even more shocked to feel how soaking wet you were. he smirked and slapped your ass, hard, making you choke on his dick—as a result of you trying to yelp. he slid his finger up and down your slit, sending chills up your body, coating his middle finger in your slick—inserting it inside of you afterwords.

the two of you moved in sync, his fingers pumping fast inside of you while you sucked his cock; hitting all the right spots. he inserted another, curling his fingers up to rub against your g-spot, while you gripped his balls, massaging them as you deep throated him.

and you both could feel each other twitching, release approaching the both of you hard—no longer able to hold back, the two of you climaxed. his creamy white load warmed up your mouth, while you creamed on his fingers. pulling back, you swallowed every last bit of his cum, savoring it as it went down, before kissing him; letting him taste himself. he pushed his fingers into your mouth letting you do the same, turning you on even more.

you stood up on the couch, hovering your cunt over his crotch, “sure you can ta—shit!~”

you cut him off as you sat down on his dick, letting him stretch you out in go. you took your bottom lip between your teeth, getting used to his size—walls clenching on him as you sat there. and when you slowly began to bounce, he couldn’t help the small moan that left his mouth. you threw your head back as you bounced on his dick, cunt creaming all over him. you were beyond wet, pussy squelching and queefing—taking his cock like a good girl.

“missed…this….—mhm—this dick~.” moaning in between your words, gripping his shoulder while you rode him, jiggling your ass ever so often. he grunted, loving how fucked out you looked—putting two fingers in your mouth; sucking them with no hesitation.

with this other hand, he sent smacks to your ass—loud popping sounds vibrating throughout the living room. toji loved your body, especially after you gave birth to your daughter. he loved how plushy and fuller you became; ass more plumper each day.

he could feel you clench down, walls moving frantically.

“that’s it mama, cum for me. show daddy how much you wanted this dick~.” toji sent another smack to your ass and you threw your head back, only for him to grab you by your cheeks; forcing you to look at him while you cum.

face contorted with pleasure and your eyes were peppered with little black spots, while you rode out your orgasm. he pulled you into a kiss once more, letting you slowly grind on him. taking you by suprise, he picked you up, sitting down on the rug beneath you and making you turn around. your phat ass was facing him and your face was deep into the soft beige couch, moaning once he pushed back into your sensitive cunt.

toji held onto your waist and watched as your ass wobbled against him, clapping with each stroke. he loved to watch it move, the stretch marks painted against the smooth skin, and the way it rippled when he thrusted into you. you eyes were rolled back to the whites, mewling as you took his dick—gripping the cushions as he rubbed that spot.

PLAP. PLAP. SMACK!

toji was slowly losing his mind from the sounds of your rough love making, his cock twitching inside of you with each stroke.

“cum for me! please—feels sho gud—“ he stuck his fingers in your mouth once again, pounding your pretty cunt sloppy.

“you looked so good pregnant with my seed—i can breed this pussy? wanna put another baby in ya” he grunted, giving you deep and powerful strokes. you mindlessly nodded your head, feeling your orgasm increasing.

his hips slammed into yours, his cock twitching before he finally released—making your belly warm with his cum. “yes daddy—fill me up so good’~” he slapped your ass, drilling your pussy while continuing to dump his milky load inside of you. he wasn’t stopping till you got yours and with his movements, you weren’t far behind.

you let out a loud moan, eyes rolling back deep into your head, cunt clenching so tight around him—you drained more ‘milk’ out of him. a powerful stream of clear fluid, pushed out of you; forcing him out with a loud queef following. toji plugged his finger up into your cunt, fingering you hard during the span of you squirting all over the run beneath you.

calming down, he pulled you by your chin and kissed you; melting into his touch.

“I’ll draw you a bath and pick up the kids, go get some rest mama” he picked you up with ease and walked you both to the bathroom.

you saw the kids off to the bus stop, forcing a smile on your face before you closed the door shut. you raced to the bathroom, to cough up the nasty warm liquid that came up—flushing the porcelain toilet. you groaned, touching your boobs which were oddly tender, and sat on the toilet. you reached into the stand beside it and pulled out two clear blue pregnancy tests.

while you waited for the results, toji came home from his morning job—body covered in hard work and sweat. “y/n? where you at mama?” he called out to you, looking around the house, only to not hear a reply. entering the bedroom, he saw the bathroom’s door halfway closed and he made his way over to it, knocking before entering.

you stood up and held the two positive pregnancy tests, folding your free arm under your chest.

“twins?” he joked and you hit his arm—giggling.

“we’re going to need a bigger place, soon.”

[respectthemasquerade]

Saviour Part 2 // Jason Todd x gn!reader

Synopsis: You brought him back to your apartment and tried to help him the best you could.

Word count: 1.5k

Note: After getting a few comments asking for a part 2, I decided to do it! Thank you everyone for all the notes on part 1 of Saviour. I didn’t think it would do as well as it did! I hope this is as good as the last. Enjoy!

saviour part 1

warnings: description of bodily harm, torture

The drive back to your apartment felt like it lasted forever. You were coming back down from the adrenaline rush from rescuing the forgotten Robin. Your hands gripped the steering wheel and blood seeped from your palms and arms from the zagged edges of the razor wire. The pain was dull, but the severe and unexpected situation of finding him made you forget. The car’s engine hummed as you drove, a song could be heard playing subtly in the silence. Robin was breathing heavily, his gaze withdrawn and empty. His rescue happened so quickly and suddenly, making him convinced this was all a hallucination and he was truly losing his mind. This was all a forgotten normalcy for him. You tried to keep to the quiet roads as you drove through Gotham to try and keep the drive as comfortable as possible for him.

You finally got to the street where your apartment was and parked in your usual space. You then turned to face Robin. He sat hugging his legs in the backseat, it looked like he was trying to ground himself. He was still shaking and couldn’t meet your gaze. To get him to your apartment, you realized you would have to cover his armor as it was easily recognizable.

“Robin?” You called out in a gentle tone.

He rocked backward and forward, right now it seemed like he was unresponsive – almost like he was stuck in his own mind.

“I’m going to get out of the car now and go into the trunk to get out a blanket to cover you while I get you to my apartment.” You announced in the same gentle tone. Even though he didn’t answer, you hoped he could hear you, so he knew what was going to happen.

You opened your car door and got out, walking to the trunk of your car. You hoped your neighbors weren’t home, as your uniform was bloodied and dirty from the slashes caused by the razor wire and the grimy room. You opened the trunk and pulled out a blanket, it was just a bland black one. You then closed the trunk and made your way to the back passenger door and opened it. Robin was still in the same position and still seemed unresponsive.

“Robin, you can get out the car now.” You tried, hoping he could hear you and move.

After a short while, he slowly turned his head to face you. He began to shakily get out of the car and as he did you successfully wrapped the blanket around his body. As suspected, Robin was still extremely weak, so you supported his weight once more and guided him to your apartment.

When you got to your apartment, you assisted Robin to your bathroom and tried your best to sit him on the edge of the bathtub. You opened the drawer and retrieved the first aid kit you owned. The injuries he had sustained were quite serious and the kit was far too limited and basic to help him, but it was all you had as he refused to seek proper medical treatment. You opened the kit up and placed it on the counter next to your sink. If you were going to treat him, you would have to treat his whole body but due to his withdrawn state, it wasn’t possible right now.

“I’m going to treat the wounds I can see right now.” You say in a clear tone.

Robin nodded as a reply, which made you feel a sense of relief as he is slowly communicating again. You picked up some antiseptic wipes and began to clean the wounds to prevent any possibilities of future infection. The wounds that weren’t deep had plasterers put on and the wounds that were received stitches. When that was done, you began to gently clean the dirt and grime from his face. The J branding on his cheek looked extremely painful and sensitive, so you tried to avoid that area and go around it. The branding looked almost healed, so you left it alone for now. You tried to remain as light with your touches as possible and announce when you’d do something else. He flinched every time you touched his face or put something down. When you finished tending to him, you began to stitch yourself up and bandage your hands and put plasters on your arms. The injuries you sustained getting him out of Arkham were luckily very minor and weren’t too deep. After you finished tending to his wounds and your own, you put away the first aid kit. You knew he couldn’t stay in that armor; it must be extremely uncomfortable and dirty from wearing it for however long he was held in captivity.

 “Robin?”  You called.

He looked up but still didn’t meet your eyes, he looked tired and a little calmer now, but his gaze was still zoned out.

“How would you feel about having fresh clothes to put on?” You asked in a mellow tone, unsure of what his reaction would be.

His eyes widened and thought for a moment. He gave a light nod as a reply.

“I’ll be back.” You announce, going to your bedroom. You dug through your drawers for suitable clothing and fished out a pair of men’s sweatpants and an old band tee your friend left from sleeping over a few years back, hopefully they’d fit him. You walked back into the bathroom and handed Robin the spare clothes.

“Do you... need any help?” You questioned.

He shook his head, and you left the bathroom to give him privacy. As he got dressed, you entered your kitchen to prepare him food. You weren’t sure if he had even eaten recently, but this was the best thing to do right now. You prepared him some toast and a drink of water, as something bland would be easier to eat after such a long time. Robin then emerged from the bathroom. He was wearing the clothes you had given him, and it looked like they fit him well.

“I prepared you some food.” You started, placing the continents on the table for him.

He walked over and sat down, digging in immediately. It didn’t take him long to finish his food and water. He looked up at you and met your gaze for the first time.

“Thank you…” he uttered. These were his first words since leaving the asylum.

“It’s no problem, Robin.” You reply with a smile.

For the rest of the day, you and Robin mostly sat in a comfortable silence. You didn’t want to pry or ask too many questions; he probably didn’t trust you yet and was still cautious. Throughout the day, you also provided him with more food and drink to build up his strength. When it got late, he fell asleep on your sofa, succumbing to exhaustion. You stayed near, in case he needed you. You sat on the single chair next to your sofa and began to fall asleep yourself.

In the early hours of the morning, Robin began to thrash around in the chair he was lying on. He dreamt he was back in the underground of Arkham, being subjected to the Joker’s ruthless and barbaric torture. The Joker made him look at the pictures of Batman and the new Robin – telling him how he was easily replaceable, and Batman didn’t care about him anymore. The Joker laughed in his face, and he began to hit him with a rusty crowbar.

Robin shot up and screamed, everything felt so real – the pain, the Joker’s shrill voice and the rancid smell. Robin was convinced he was back, and your rescue was the dream instead. He gripped onto the cushion of your sofa, trying to ground himself once again. His screams woke you up. You rushed up and turned on a nearby lamp. You knelt by him and could see the tears that streamed down his cheeks, he looked petrified. He was violently shaking; it appeared like he was still in his nightmare.

“Robin?” You tried to snap him out of it.

He then looked down at you, it seemed like he was a little more coherent now. Without thinking, you placed a hand on his arm. You wanted to comfort him, only realizing after that this action may have caused him to strike at you out of fear you would hurt him, or he was still dreaming, but he didn’t. He did flinch, but he welcomed the soft touch, desperate for human contact that held no malicious intentions.

“I’m… I’m not Robin anymore.” His tone was clear. “My name is… Jason.” He stuttered. He couldn’t be referred to as Robin, he was replaced by another.

“Okay Jason…” You reply, surprised he told you his real name – especially right now.

You didn’t say anything more, but you sat there for as long as he needed it and kept your hand on his arm. You knew now you were the only person who could help Jason. It seems like everyone who was supposed to protect him had failed him and left him behind. He was a lost soul who endured horrors at the hand of one of Gotham’s most notorious criminals. You had no idea or experience on how to handle this, but you knew that you had to. It was your priority now to help him.

[typicalopposite]

tongue tied

thank you @nine-one-wanton for the title 😂🫶

BuckTommy | E (eh.. maybe M+) | 4859 words

also on ao3!

Mortification… 

That still isn’t a strong enough emotion to describe what Buck is feeling at the moment. 

He glances down at Tommy and asks if he’s still okay. All Tommy can do is blink in response; once for yes, twice for no. Pretty much any movement causes them both pain… and the humiliation is bad enough without them being overly sore as well. 

Tommy slides a gentle hand over Bucks thigh, doing his best to smile up at him. He inhales deeply through his nose and blows it back out, adjusting how he’s sitting on his legs, having to keep himself up high enough so he doesn't accidentally tug on the rings— tangled together and seemingly inseparable. 

There’s a knock at the loft’s door, and Buck hears Bobby’s voice yell out to him. He looks down at Tommy and sighs. 

This was definitely not how the team was supposed to learn they made up.

****

(Two months earlier) 

Tommy sat in a small chair, waiting his turn at the tattoo and piercing parlor. It had been years since Tommy had worn his little hoop earrings in his ears. Yet when he pushed the curved bar through the hole— thinking maybe they would be closed up and he’d have to force them— they just slipped right in. 

He considered getting a second hole, maybe. A nose ring. A belly button ring… 

Was he being dramatic— I want to feel something beyond the heartache I have caused for myself… so I’m going to go have a needle jabbed through some part of my body— maybe… He would agree, too, that maybe it was a little juvenile… a little petty even, to ultimately settle on a piercing Ev- no… Buck had shown so much interest in. He’d talked about having blowjobs from girls with tongue rings in his “Buck 1.0 days” (whatever that means); he said they were amazing. 

So now Tommy would have one, too… and he could give whoever the next guy he hooked up with amazing blow jobs. Take that memory of Buck that just wouldn’t leave! (in reality he knew he was fooling himself… He doubted there would ever be a next guy for him… Buck, however, would probably be getting plenty of better head from people way better than Tommy— whose knees don’t creak and ache after just a few short minutes on them, and who’s jaw hadn’t been shattered and wired shut in his teens so he can only hold it open for so long before it locks up.) 

He huffed angrily at the thought of someone else with Buck’s— with Evan's dick sitting heavy on their tongue; thrusting in and out, hitting the back of their throat. Someone else swallowing down every drop of his—

“Sir…” the receptionist said, thankfully interrupting his train of thought before he snapped his phone in half. “You’re up.” Tommy cleared his throat and thanked her, rubbing a hand over the heat climbing up his neck from embarrassment. 

He plopped down on the client chair and told the piercer what he wanted. He opted for the clear bar, and he had taken a (much needed) week off work; hopefully it would be healed by then. The woman gave him the instructions: sit up straight, stick out your tongue, please don’t try to grab my wrist. “People do that?” Tommy asked, around the clamp on his tongue, and she gave him an exhausted look. Sorry… he thought but didn’t say. 

He stuck his tongue out at himself in the bathroom mirror that night. It was swollen and very sore— it definitely didn’t make him feel better, but hey he’d always wanted to do something drastic. A tongue ring at forty counted… right? Yeah, it counted. He cleaned the piercing and went to bed. 

****

(One month earlier)

Buck wasn’t sure if this was just some Buck 1.0.2 phase or a very emotional based impulsive (probably stupid) decision resulting from his still broken heart. 

Still he was already there and had already put a deposit down; he might as well, right? 

He had come to the parlor alone, because… well, what would anyone he knows say about him doing something like this. Maybe if it was something simple like an ear piercing… or hell, even a tongue piercing. But this— this was not something his pseudo siblings or father figure would be on board tagging along to. Eddie was in El Paso… and he definitely wasn’t about to ask Maddie along.

The receptionist smiled at him, had him sign in, and told him to take a seat. 

He was early… Perhaps that had been a bad idea. His knee began to bounce and he fiddled with his fingers anxiously, staring around the parlor at the other clients ahead of him. Some laid back in the chairs getting tattooed— he should have just gotten another tattoo; what was he thinking— others getting any and every part of their body pierced. Most people were quiet. One lady in the back let out a scream so blood curdling Buck was about to get up and leave but—

“Sir! You're up!” 

Buck followed the piercer into one of the private rooms. The man was quiet and looked like he might bite Buck’s head off if given the chance. He instructed Buck to lower his pants, his boxers, and sit down on the pad covered seat. He did as he was told, and the seat was tilted back, putting him on full display thanks to the cold room. Why was he even doing this? Just because Tommy had said some guy he talked to before they even knew each other said he might get one? Was Buck really that shallow— that jealous?! 

“Alright, man… here we go.”

This was a bad idea. 

This was a bad idea.. 

WHAT THE FUCK WAS HE THINKING!?! 

This was so stupid! So bad! Such an impulsive idea! 

“And done!” 

Buck blinked once… twice… and looked down towards where the man was already slipping his gloves off. He pulled his dick up towards his stomach so he could see the little silver hoop hooked through his frenulum. “Oh,” he said, thanked the guy, paid and went home. 

****

(Two days earlier) 

Tommy played with the flat top of his tongue ring; he slid it back and forth over his teeth, he pushed the bar out enough to bite down on, all while he tapped on his steering wheel to the beat of a song playing on the radio. He was nervous. 

And the thing was… he shouldn’t be. 

He was a big brave grown man— capable of doing big brave grown man things… like to have drinks with an ex, whom he’s very much not over. He would be fine. 

Except the only spot available was directly beside the Jeep. 

“Fucking mother fucker.” Tommy grumbled out loud and turned into the spot hoping that maybe he wouldn’t be— 

He was still sitting in the driver seat. 

Cock sucking, bitch ass… What kind of god damned luck?!? How could he come to his senses about the meeting and run away now? 

He sighed and put the truck in park, then turned to look at him. It was the very first time he’d laid eyes on the man— beyond the pictures and videos he couldn’t bring himself to delete from his phone— since he walked out of the loft. 

Evan.

Or… Buck, since he’d decided to go that route and really drive the break up home. 

“H- Hey…” Buck said as soon as the both were out of their vehicles. “Thanks for — for the invite.” 

Tommy stuffed his hand down in his pockets, and chewed on the flat top to his tongue ring. “Of course,” he finally said. “I, uh… I felt like we really needed to talk about…”

“Everything?” Buck finished. 

“Yeah,” Tommy nodded along. “Everything.” 

“Okay… well for starters—” Buck wasted no time jumping right in. “Don’t ever call me Buck again.” He stared at Tommy so seriously before his lips twitched up a bit and he added, “please.”

“Noted,” Tommy said and there was a pause like he was waiting for— “Evan…” Tommy added and Evan fully smiled at that; he seemed relieved. “Okay, what else.” 

Evan stepped towards him. Tommy had the slightest urge to step back, but even more of one to move closer— to reach out and grab him and cling like his life depended on it. Evan reached for him first. “Don’t ever make a decision like that for me again.” Tommy waited, his eyes searching Evan’s… trying to say without saying how sorry he was. Finally Evan leaned in and gently pressed his lips to Tommy’s. “If I had needed more time to figure myself out… if I wasn’t sure about this— that you were what I wanted. I wouldn’t have just strung you along until I did… okay?” 

“Okay.” Tommy wanted to say more. He thought, maybe, he should say more… but his voice was lodged somewhere deep in his throat and all he could focus on was how his lips were tingling from that kiss. Evan, like a damn mind reader, took the moment to lean back in, deepening the kiss and wasting no time slipping his tongue into Tommy’s mouth. He noticed almost immediately. 

“You got a tongue piercing?!” 

“I— uh, yeah…” 

Evan’s eyes lit up mischievously… his breathing hitches then speeds up… he leaned in for another kiss.

****

(One hour earlier)

Buck had been very mature about the fact Tommy now had a tongue ring. In fact… he was so mature about it, that he didn’t suggest they forget the drinks, and their plans to actually talk like level headed adults do… In fact, after just one more kiss— one more quick swipe of his tongue over the flat top of the bar— he pulled away from Tommy completely; minus their hands, which Evan promptly laced together as they walked into the bar. 

And they talked. 

They actually talked.

They opened up— more than he’d expected them to.

They cried. They laughed. They left a few hours later and were officially back together.

Buck remained mature, and didn’t offer (beg, plead, or bargain) to follow Tommy back to his place, or bring him back to the loft. He allowed the night to end with them parting ways, but with the promise there would be a next time— and plenty of times after that—  So Buck was fine with going home alone. 

But when Tommy arrived at the loft, a bottle of wine in hand, his curls styled nicely, and wearing the cologne that he knew Buck loved… the maturity went out the window. He tugged him in by the collar and crashed their lips together. Buck had asked him to put a regular bar in, one with the bigger metal ball. Tommy had laughed and made a bitchy little joke but as Buck’s tongue passed over the piercing he let his lips curl up into a pleased smirk to find Tommy had done as he’d asked. 

They wasted no time; Tommy’s fingers ran along the hem of Buck’s shirt while Buck hurriedly pushed Tommy’s button-down off of his shoulders. “There’s something you should know…” Buck says as they nearly tripped over each other getting up the stairs, pieces of their outfits falling off every couple steps. He leans in close to Tommy’s ear and whispers, “I got something pierced too…” then he falls back onto the bed, pants and boxers already gone and his cock standing straight up like it’s showing it’s new accessory off. 

Tommy’s eyes widen. His brows fly all the way up to his hairline. He crawls onto the bed and takes Buck in his hand, tilting him back to look at the piercing better. “It’s healed, right?” Buck nearly gives himself whiplash nodding. Tommy leans in and flicks the tip of his tongue over the hoop— over the little piece of skin it’s going through— and Buck sucks in a sharp breath. “Good?” Tommy asks. 

“Amazing!” 

“Okay, great…” Tommy says, then goes back to licking at the piercing and around the head, and down the shaft. All the while Buck is moaning and squirming. It shouldn’t be so over-stimulative but it’s been so long… he hasn’t— not like this— not since Tommy. “Missed you; missed this…” Tommy says between licking down Buck’s cock and sucking the tip into his mouth, which only seems to make it so much more sensitive. 

Buck’s toes curl as Tommy takes him all the way down. And, God, how he has missed that. Buck whimpers and lets his hands move up into Tommy’s curls; messing them up, sure, but he doesn’t care. Tommy bobs his head, making sure to flatten his tongue and let the ball rub over Buck with every slide down and back up, and it feels just as amazing as Buck remembered— it feels even better, actually. 

Tommy moves Buck’s legs further apart so he can settle on the bed more. He flicks his eyes up to meet Buck’s and smiles around his cock, lining himself up so the ball goes over the hoop. It’s— well it’s mind blowing…

…at first. 

Tommy gets a little too into it. 

Probably due to the completely wanton noises pouring out of Buck’s mouth. He slides down all the way to the bottom, presses his tongue against the underside so the ball is pressed into the tender skin and starts to slide back up. He reaches the hoop… and somehow the ball just pops through it. 

Buck thinks he’s really just thankful Tommy caught the mishap immediately… without trying to pull off— so fucking thankful. 

“Uhh…” is all Tommy can manage. He holds himself up with one arm and brings the other up to try to get a finger in his mouth, to the where they are quite literally linked together. He can’t. 

And just like that… Buck’s pride in his size disappears. 

****

Tommy tries to move his tongue, ever so gently so he doesn't tug at the ring, but it’s useless. He wants to cry. He looks up at Evan… who is looking down at him… and looks terrified, and he can’t shake his head so he just sighs. “You have got to be joking… Tommy, what do we do?!” 

Tommy knows what they have to do… and he knows Evan knows what they have to do. 

“We can’t! Tommy, Maddie is at work! What if she takes the call?” He waits for a second like he’s expecting Tommy to answer, he can only blink back. “A- And I’m in the 118’s district… oh my god…” Now Evan looks ready to cry, and Tommy can’t even properly hold him about it. He runs his hand up Evan’s side, hoping it does something to soothe him. “Maybe if… if I can just get soft…” he suggests. Tommy shrugs, he doubts it but he doesn’t blame Evan for not wanting to call… this absolute disaster… in. 

So they wait. 

And wait.

And wait…

Drool starts to pool in Tommy’s mouth and he tries to swallow it as carefully as he can. His throat spasms, and Evan hisses, and Tommy makes a wounded noise by means of apologizing. To make matters worse, not that Evan’s erection had gone down much sitting in Tommy’s mouth… but the tightening of his throat from swallowing definitely didn’t help. They are doomed, he fears.

He looks up at Evan and tries to lighten the mood with a smile, and Evan manages to smile back, before dropping his head to his pillow and letting out a pitiful sob. 

Tommy knows they can’t sit here forever. He taps Evan’s leg and points to Evan’s pants that are the closest to the bed. Carefully they shimmy together, over to the edge, until Tommy slides off the bed, stretching out his leg to pull the pants over to him. He sits himself on his legs and pulls out the phone. Evan still seems hesitant so Tommy grunts around him and puts the phone in his hand. 

“Okay, fine.” 

Thank you, Tommy thinks and sighs. He slowly moves his tongue, still trying to find a way to pop the ball back through the hoop, but it’s just no use. He brings an arm up and uses it to prop up his head, and listens as Evan types in the dreaded numbers. 

He puts it on speaker and rests his body back on his free arm. “9-1-1 what is the location of your emergency…” Tommy watches Evan inhale deep and let out a long drawn out sigh. He gives his address, and immediately the dispatcher gasps. “Buck?” 

“Hey Josh…” 

****

“What's going on, are you okay?” Josh asks, eyes flicking up to look at Maddie who is in the middle of her own call and hasn’t yet heard her brother's name. 

“Well… define okay.” 

“Do you need medical assistance? I can send your team—”

“No!” Josh’s mouth snaps shut at the urgency in Buck’s voice. “Not— Not them… and Josh… please don’t tell Maddie you’re talking to me.” 

Josh glances back up at Maddie, and sighs. “Okay…” he says slowly; quizzically. “So what’s going on?” 

“Me and Tommy are stuck… together.” Josh waits for more, but his first panicked thought is that there has been some accident at Buck’s loft. 

“A- Are you— either of you hurt?” 

“Not… exactly. Just stuck.” 

“Like… in the elevator?” Josh pries, since Buck is giving him very little information. 

“I wish…” Buck groans, and Josh hears a muffled snort. “No, we're inside my apartment.” 

Josh tries to run through where they could be stuck in the small loft… He comes up with nothing, And Buck has gone silent. “Okay, look… I have no idea what’s going on, or how to help you, so I’m going to need you to give me a little more details beyond just ‘We’re stuck’.” 

Nothing— Nothing!!— could have prepared Josh for what Buck just blurts out next. 

“Tommy’s tongue ring is stuck through my dick ring…” 

Of course that’s the moment Maddie decides to look up at him. Her brows furrow and she mouths what’s wrong? Josh is pretty sure he resembles a deer in headlights, and he might have forgotten how to speak beyond a startled, “Oh…”

There’s a pause and Buck speedruns Josh through a quick explanation of what has happened, that Josh can only mmhmm back too, biting his lips between his teeth to stop them from curling upward and trying to figure out exactly how to word this in the notes to whoever he sends to… help. (33 and 40 year old males. No serious injuries. Unable to come to the door… prepare to be scandalized— he doesn’t add that last part)

Maddie is still just staring at him with a progressively getting more worried look. Finally she takes her earpiece off and starts towards him. Shit… he thinks, then quickly sends the 133 with a final note that an ambulance will possibly be needed. “What’s going on, Josh…” Maddie asks, looking at his screen. She immediately recognizes Buck’s address, gasps and grabs Josh's earpiece. “Buck?! Buck, are you okay? Are you hurt?” 

Josh watches the voice recorder from the call and it doesn’t move. “M- Maddie listen…” he tries, and reaches for the earpiece back; Maddie slaps his hand in return. 

Her eyes frantically move over the screen, furrowing as she tries to decipher what the notes could mean. She comes to the unit responding, and scoffs. “Why would you send the 133, Josh… the 118 is closer!” And Josh can do no more than run a hand down his face, and continue to bite back the laugh that has been threatening to break free since Buck explained the actual situation. “Buck I’m sending the 118 to you… everything’s going to be okay.” Her mouth pulls down into a worried frown. “Are you there? Can you please say something…” 

****

“Th- Thanks Mads…” is all Buck can think to say. 

Tommy’s eyes widen, and he finds Buck's hand to hold it. 

“What’s going on…” Maddie continues to press. “Is— is Tommy with you? Is he hurt? Buck, do I need to go there?”

“Please, no!” Buck cries out. “I’m… fine. It’s fine. We’re— we’re fine. R- Right Tommy?” He squeezes his eyes shut realizing Tommy can’t agree. 

He does manage a garbled “Uh huh,” though… (To which Buck hears Josh snort then quickly clear his throat.) 

“I, uh… I’m gonna hang up now…” Buck says, then before Madie can say anything he adds, “I swear I’m— we’re really okay. I promise.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah, I— I’m sure…” he tells her, hangs up and throws his head back with a loud groan. Tommy sighs around him and moves the hand propping up his head and rubs at his jaw, reminding Buck of the reason Tommy never drags out his blowjobs. “Fuck! Tommy your jaw,” he says, and moves Tommy’s hand to rub over the spot himself. “A- and your knees have to be killing you!” Tommy shrugs and leans his face into Buck’s hand. “Is this at least helping,” he asks; Tommy cocks a brow, and his lips curl up into a smirk. “Oh my god… blink once for yes twice for no,” he groans, laughing only when Tommy blinks once. 

Which brings them back to the present. Bobby yells that they are coming in and the only silver lining is that Bobby has a key so they don’t have to break his door in. Something taps Buck’s leg and it’s his phone that Tommy has typed up a message on. 

pocket knife. cut off my tongue. I’ll go out the window.

That startles a laugh out of Buck… which is immediately followed by a pained hiss from them both. The front door opens and Buck groans. “Up here…” he says, and they both listen as the entire team— hell it sounds like the entire station— files in. 

Tommy whimpers when Chimney calls out, jokingly asking if Buck’s decent, and grabs the blanket to pull over his head. 

“Alright Buck what’s… going… on…” Bobby says, first to get up the stairs— his worried look melts away and is replaced by something akin to absolute horror, which Buck 100% gets. 

“What on earth…” Hen gawks as she comes up behind Bobby. 

Buck feels like his face is about to catch on fire, and Tommy hasn’t moved since covering his head— so he has either convinced himself if he doesn’t move they can’t see him… or he has died. 

“Is that Tommy?!” Chimney blurts out, looking around Hen and Bobby, who both slowly turn and look back at him.

Chimney shrugs. “What? I can appreciate nice features without it meaning anything, thank you very much.” He moves past her and gestures at Tommy’s backside. “And when you got it you got it…” Tommy makes a choked off noise— so, at least that means he’s not dead… 

“Wait so is it really Tommy?” Ravi calls from the bottom of the stairs. Buck doesn’t answer… which is enough of an answer in and of itself. 

Bobby turns back to Buck, rolling his eyes at the others. He sighs. “Okay, what exactly is going on here, Buck.” 

Before he can even think up a decent answer, Tommy twitches, stiffens and then pulls his hand up to scratch at his nose. He grunts, and takes a deep breath, and Buck watches in horror as it finally clicks what exactly Tommy is doing under the blanket. “This has got to be a prank,” Hen says, pulling off her glasses and covering her eyes. “Buck… tell me this is a prank.” 

Tommy continues to squirm and finally while holding his nose to suppress it, he sneezes. Buck yelps and Tommy mumbles incoherent apologies. The loft falls completely quiet; all eyes are now on him, waiting for an explanation. 

His phone rings first, and he expects it to be Maddie… but it’s Eddie— and he doesn’t need to deal with that— so he sends it to voicemail. 

Then Tommy’s phone starts to vibrate down stairs. “Ignore it,” Buck instructs when Ravi asks if he wants it brought up to them. 

About a second after it stops, Chimney's phone rings and he answers without hesitation, putting it on FaceTime.

“Oh… oh my god!” Eddie gasps. “You two didn’t…” he sounds like he’s crying and sucks in a breath. “You two idiots didn’t… did you?!” Buck glares at Chimney, but he is unfazed, turning the camera for Eddie to see them. “You did!” 

“I’m so lost,” Chimney says, looking at Bobby.

Hen is still covering her face and shaking her head. 

“These two—”

“Eddie…” Buck pleads— but really… What's the use in hiding details? “Whatever…” he groans and turns his eyes to the ceiling, and Eddie shares what he knows.

And apparently, he knows everything. 

So Buck wasn’t the only one who went to Eddie about his impulse body modification. Tommy had told him too— he texted Eddie after learning of his move to El Paso, and it just slid its way into the conversation. 

“How did you even find out about this?” Buck groans.

“Josh told me.” 

“Oh, but he couldn’t tell us so we knew what we were about to walk in on…” Hen says bitterly. 

“And since when do you and Josh talk?” Buck adds. 

“That is my business,” Eddie quips back. “You all  have fun with… yours.” He wiggles his fingers at them, laughs again, and ends the call. 

Chimney and Hen give each other strained looks, both clearly trying to hold it together. Bobby takes a deep breath, resting his hands on his hips and stares down at Buck. “Okay well we— we need to get you two… separated—” His lips tremble and he tries to stop the laugh but it bubbles out anyway. That's all the motive Hen and Chimney need to both double over. Even Ravi is laughing down stairs. 

Tommy makes a pained noise and Buck knows he has to be hurting from sitting like this for so long. “Yeah, yeah… laugh it up. Can we please figure out how to actually do that?” 

“Well we have to see what we’re dealing with first,” Hen says, grabbing the blanket without warning and lifting it up. “Oh my god…” she nearly chokes, and has to walk down stairs to compose herself. 

Yeah mortification was definitely not a strong enough word. 

It only takes the team five minutes to get them separated— Buck is sure it will take a lifetime to live it down. 

****

“Are you sure you don’t want to go in and get checked out?” Bobby asks; Tommy just shakes his head and puts his hand over Evan’s, where he is holding a frozen bag of peas against his jaw. “Alright,” he gives them both a smile— it looks more uncomfortable than when he was given the medal of valor at the ceremony. “You, uh— you two…” he looks between Tommy and Evan. “Well, I’m glad you… worked things out.” 

“That’s one way to describe what happened here tonight,” Chimney says, smiling smugly at the both of them.

Hen comes up beside Tommy and lays a hand on his shoulder. “I think it’s safe to say you can definitely keep up.” Tommy slowly lifts his eyes to her and she can’t hold back the laughter. “Maybe a little too well— you might wanna slow down actually.” 

“Uhm, what— what does that mean?” Evan leans in and asks; again… Tommy just shakes his head. 

Ravi hands Evan the little baggie the two rings were put in once they were removed. He doesn’t say anything, and just leaves. He pulls the door shut behind him, and then they are left alone, embarrassed, and sore in their respective affected areas. 

Evan holds the bag up and sighs. “That was… something.” 

“Yeah…” Tommy laughs, finally feeling like he can move his jaw again without it popping. “Next time, maybe we don’t go with the ball and hoop combo. 

“N- Next time?” Evan furrows his brow but his lips are already curling up at the corners. 

Tommy shrugs and grabs Evan’s hand pulling it to his lips. “If I have learned anything lately… it’s the importance of giving things another chance…” 

Evan’s smile widens. “Wow. That was— just wow...” he laughs and pulls Tommy into a kiss; he winces when just the slight movement hurts. “I’m sorry about your jaw, and your knees.” 

“I’m sorry about your… frenulum,” Tommy replies and Evan snorts. “Now I can’t finish what I started…” 

They both pout at that… for just a moment. “Yeah, b- but… my jaw doesn’t hurt,” Evan says with a suggestive smirk. “And your dick doesn’t hurt…” He bites his lip and tugs on Tommy’s hand to stand him up.

“This is true…” Tommy states. 

“So maybe we can finish what we started after all…” Evan leans in and brushes his lips over Tommy’s then turns and heads for the stairs, Tommy right behind him, and the silver hoop and tongue ring left behind on the table for next time. 

[callofdudes]

Best idea

Y/n had to go MIA/KIA to keep the 141 safe, once Simon founds out angry cause he mourned for his best friend only to find out their alive and in hiding, demanded platonic cuddles as their “punishment”

Ok, I'm gonna get the brain juices running for this one. Another one based off a story my bestie @itsscromp and I did. But I changed it up. Hope you enjoy, it's longer than I anticipated it being.

Also, I should have fully expected the repercussions of letting you guys vote Egg as a callsign... but I'ma still use it.

Where did you go??

Summary: They thought you were gone, dead. Turns out you were under their noses and a call away the whole time.

Cw: Angst. Nothing much else.

Your mission had gone... Well for lack of a better word it went to shit. Whole thing blew up. An ambush, a bomb, it would be a long road to explain what all in all happened but it did, and now you were paying for it. It had gotten so bad they couldn't pull you from the junction you were stuck in.

You were supposed to be infiltrating an old base which had become home to a drug ring. But no one happened to mention the mines you'd step on and fuck up your leg with. Or the live wire that alerted the whole base after said mine went off.

So now this entire base was up in arms, you have a broken leg and probably other damage. You were lucky your leg hadn't been blown off.

And to be quite frank, these men were extremely dangerous which meant your fuck up was astronomical. The second they found you you were probably going to die.

So you commed into Price, telling him your situation.

"Alright Egg, I'm going to go in on foot and bring you back to the helicopter just hang tight soldier."

"Yes sir." You lay down, catching your breath and willing yourself not to look at your leg because if it felt bad it probably looked bad too.

Not twenty minutes later Price was approaching your form, bending down to check on you. "You broken??"

"Yeah I'm pretty sure... I don't want to look though."

Price nodded, tucking his gun away and grabbed your arms. "Alright, up we go," he hauled you up into his arms, hefting you over his shoulder and going back the way he came. Just... A little quicker this time since things were looking good for the oppositions infantry.

Price brought you back to the helicopter where you were bandaged up. The mission could have been better planned so they didn't end up sending another team out.

Price had the team drop you off near some loading stations far off the location of the base.

"What... Are we doing here??"

Price got out of the helicopter and checked your leg before pulling you out with him. "I can't bring you back to base. It's a security risk if I do..."

You frowned. "What do you mean?? Where am I going then??"

"There's a secure underground safehouse that will keep you hidden. It's got the provisions you need and the people you need. They'll keep quiet and keep you safe. For now, for however long, I need you to lay low."

You opened your mouth to protest but then shut it again. "I understand. Will I get to see the others..?"

"No, you are not to contact them in any way at all. Until I contact you, you are to remain on the downlow."

Your head falls slightly, but you nod. "Alright, I can do that."

Price nodded and patted your shoulder. He picked you up and helped you into the truck waiting for you. "They'll take care of you. I'll contact you as soon as it's safe. If I do not contact you do not contact us. Got it?"

You nod once again, taking the instructions to heart. You wouldn't be able to contact Ghost, Soap or Gaz. You wouldn't be able to contact anyone. But you knew this was for the best.

So with a last goodbye Price closed the door to the truck and the soldier in the driver's seat drove down the empty road out of the landing space.

"How long will we be gone??"

"Until we get the word from Captain Price. Don't worry. It'll be kept under wraps..."

...

Price returned to the base, taking a deep breath and having had time to figure everything out. He immediately called the others into a meeting.

Considering you and Price weren't supposed to be back for the rest of the day, or even two days or more the meeting was seen as urgent.

Ghost was there first, the sergeants following his trail as they came into the office. "Price... What are you doing back?" Ghost asked sternly, hands clasped tightly as if ready for action at a moments notice.

"Relax... There won't be any fighting. I need you all to sit."

Soap threw Gaz a concerned look as they sat. "Where is y/n, are they still out there??"

Price straightened his posture. He didn't exactly want to lie to his own men, but he'd done worse and he knew this was completely for the best.

"The mission didn't go well as soon as we went in."

Ghost frowned. "Didn't go well?? These drug traders could be connected to Shepherd's on power, how did it wrong??"

"Ghost, relax." Price replied firmly. "I realize that we didn't think this over as well as we should have... Their base was much more protected than we originally thought so Egg went in blind."

"So what happened? Did you pull them??" Ghost was growing more agitated the longer they sat there.

"They commed in about an exploded mine and... We couldn't find them."

The room grew quiet. Soap and Gaz shared concerned looks as Gaz spoke up. "Did you do a full search? We're they hidden in the dirt or something and you missed??"

Price shook his head. "Too risky to go on foot and search. We didn't know how many more mines were out there." Only a small white lie, but a lie nonetheless.

Ghost squared in his chair. "Then we need to go find them. What are we sitting here for just waiting-!"

"Ghost, if they are safe they'll comm in. For now I can't risk sending men in there with the base on high alert and their supposed boss on speed dial. So for now we sit down and we wait to see if Egg comes back with anything."

Ghost was boiling up underneath. Feelings of rage that Price couldn't have waiting a little longer. Worry because they left you out there probably still alive... And fear. Because what if you weren't alive.

"I won't make any calls on it now, but this is where we are at so remain patient. I'm doing what I can to sort this out." Price had to rewire this plan to keep all of his men safe. All of his soldiers, including you.

"Dismissed."

The air was tense when everyone left. The idea you were out there alone, still alive and possibly if not injured and with no help. It scared them all.

Gaz was the first to try and get in contact with you. But any of his efforts were proving ineffective.

Soap just had to wait it out. To hope they could find you or you could find them in time.

Ghost... Ghost didn't know what to think. He knew you were capable. He knew if you were alive then you'd comm in. Once you were safe he knew you would make contact. You could protect yourself... He had to believe you would be ok.

That mentality lasted right up until a week later when Price called everyone back in to pronounce you MIA. Stamped on a card to your file and just like that, they truly had zero traces of you.

They were devastated. A week and no turn of anything from you. This is when Simon started to call your phone. Leaving you text messages.

He couldn't sleep because all his thoughts and dreams were of you. Hoping you were ok and alive. That hope was dying, waking up in cold sweats on nights he could close his eyes for even a moment.

Clutching his beating heart while his body rattled with panic, phone pressed to his ear only to hear your voice over the same simple voice mail as ever.

He couldn't be without you. You were a crucial part of his life. Of his mission. He couldn't just abandon that connection. You had to be alive.

Price cut communication with the safe house you were being taken care of. Unless it was an emergency Price knew not of your condition, only that you were safe. He too was worried, bouncing around through meetings and talking with Laswell and this and that and the other thing.

Trying to figure out what to do now that they needed a new plan and how long they could wait to re-infiltrate.

Simon had started leaving you voicemails, not knowing if he'd ever hear your voice again.

"Hey, this is Y/n, I'm currently busy but please try to leave a message so I can get back to you!"

Simon laid awake, staring up at the ceiling as he held the phone to his ear.

"Y/n.... If you can hear me you gotta respond. Please, I don't know if you'll ever hear these again but if you're somewhere out there I know you're alive. Anything, please, I..." He closed his eyes, thinking back to the last time he saw you. Taking off in that helicopter, a pat on the shoulder and a good luck...

"I miss you. And I'm not giving up on you. I'm not." He wouldn't cry... He wouldn't cry. He would not cry.

"I'm going to come find you. I know somewhere you're still alive. Even if their torturing you I promise I won't leave you out there to die you hear me."

Tears rolled down his cheeks and he covered his eyes, curling up on his bed. "I know you hear me...." He choked out. "I know you can hear me...." He stares at the phone. "Please Y/n.... Please, anything..."

He stared at the phone, waiting like you would magically pick up and reassure him even for a second that you were ok and alive and even if you weren't thriving you were still breathing.

But no...

The voicemail lasted for over an hour. Simon laid there, staring at him phone, unable to bring himself to hang up again.

His thumb hovered over the phone. He wanted to say one last thing... He opened his mouth, but he hesitated. His eyes downcast and one last tear rolled down his cheek as he ended the call once again. Only to face another restless night of no sleep.

By the eighth month mark you were pronounced KIA.

Simon had pretty much known by that point. He'd lost his best friend but he had been in denial until Price told them. They couldn't find a trace of you. No body, no tags, no clothes, no weapon. You had simply... Vanished.

Simon continues to mourn all while you were still being held up in that underground safehouse. Sitting on the small rickety bed, watching the higher ranked soldiers also staying watch at the safehouse talk in the other room.

It was beyond difficult. No contact with outside, you ate, slept, the others tended to your leg and occasionally sparred with you to help you back on your feet.

You missed your team. Your friends. Your family.

You listened to every single voicemail Simon sent. You couldn't reply. Couldn't text him back or even pick up the phone for a second to let him know you were ok.

You remained radio silent.

Even as you'd lay awake at night with your phone replaying the voicemail, listening to the recorded lapse of Simon's breathing while he stared at the phone with an empty, sorrowful expression from the other side.

You missed him so much. You wanted to see them again. But you couldn't. Not yet. Would you ever get to see them again?? They couldn't leave you down here forever.

There was a brief knock on your door as one of the sergeants nodded to you. "Food is ready, new supply just came in."

You nod, pausing the voicemail. "Thanks... I'll be out in a minute."

You sighed, turning off your phone and tucking it away, praying that you'd see them soon.

...

Simon had lost you. Didn't even get a chance to protect you. It had gotten to the point where his lack of sleep would lead to seeing figures of you disappear down hallways. In a spark of hope and joy he'd rush to find you only to find nothing...

On the off days he'd run into a recruit or a sergeant wandering the halls. As soon as they would turn around though... The illusion would shatter.

His own mind was killing him from the inside. Sending you hundred and hundreds of text messages. Every morning and night, rants about his day and what he was feeling. If he was going to pour everything out like you'd ever see it he did it now.

Knowing you'd never pick that phone up again, knowing you'd never look him in the eyes again. Knowing he'd never hear your voice or feel your touch or know your comfort ever again.

This drove him further and further into the spiral. Price had never seen Simon beat up the punching bag so much he bled all over it. He'd never seen Simon get snappy and angry I'm split decisions like he did.

He'd never seen Simon grow so desperate and over protective of Johnny and Kyle. Because Simon's new fear was he'd lose them just like he lost you...

This went on for the next three months after that. Nearly a year since you'd died and they were back out on that minefield. A proper plan, a new way in, a new goal.

Simon was desperate to tear that base apart and even find a trace of your body. Even just a piece of your clothing or your signature engraved gun hanging in their armory somewhere.

But in the end he was left with no more questions answered than when he first entered that meeting room eleven months ago.

Simon had followed the trail to the last thread. The main office of that base. Pulling open every drawer and every cabinet.

"Lt stop you're making a mess-!"

"There's got to be a file or something here! There fucking has to be!"

"Ghost stop we found the information we needed. We have the shipments contained the base is clear what could you be looking for??" Gaz asked, trying to understand what had gotten Ghost in such a frenzy.

"A kill list or an interrogation chart. Anything."

"For what Simon!?"

"For Y/n!!" Simon snapped at them both. Breathing heavy as he finishes emptying every drawer in that office.

Price stood silently in the doorway. Enough time had passed. He wouldn't put them through this anymore.

"Come on lads... I think it's time I show you something."

Their attention turned on to him. Simon was almost vibrating with rage and anxiety. He just wanted any knowledge of what happened. He knew you were dead but his soul was restless without knowing. He needed to know...

They left, Price piled them in the helicopter and the ride back was silent. Simon stared at his hands the whole time. Soap fidgeted, knee bouncing and chewing his lip anxiously.

Gaz picked at the loose strap of his gun, also attempting to distract himself from the elephant in the room.

When the helicopter landed they weren't on base. They landed on the small helipad you had been brought to some some before. Price got out, motioning the other three to follow.

"Where are we Price??" Soap looked around, not recognizing the place.

"You'll know soon enough." Price brought them to a truck, talking with the officer in charge of the station before climbing in the driver's seat.

The sergeants got comfy in the back and Simon slipped into the passenger seat. His eyes remained fixed on the passenger window, watching the open land pass by and the fields of undisturbed flowers and wildlife.

What if he had found you here? May you would have liked that better. Surrounded by the flowers and the soft blowing breeze instead of wherever your body lay, ashes or not.

He turned away, fixing his eyes to the dashboard to try and distract himself.

The ride was quiet once again. Lasting about an hour and a half before Price stopped, parking the vehicle outside a small outpost of sorts. It wasn't build very high off the ground and was concealed by trees and wildlife.

"A safehouse. Why cannae we jus' go home??" Soap asked as he jumped out of the vehicle with the others.

"I'd prefer we made a stop here." Price said, leading them to the entrance where surpisingly a soldier was there to bring them in.

"Occupied? Now there's something new." Gaz whispered to Soap.

Simon didn't understand why they were even making this stupid trip. He wanted to go back to base. He wanted to hide once again like he always did.

"Captain Price, welcome back." The soldier shook Price's hand and walked them further inside.

"Sergeant! Their here for you!" The soldier called out, walking to one of the small rooms where you were. Where you spent most of your time.

You looked up. Who was here for you?? Your eyes widened. Them, your team! It had to be them they were back!

You pushed off your bed, leaning into your good leg and moved faster than you had in almost a year. Turning the corner and there they were. Price, Simon, Johnny, Kyle. All of them.

But.... This wasn't the hopeful reunion you'd pictured in your head over and over again. No one moved. The thought of Simon rushing the hug you didn't come true as he didn't move.

Price walked over, embracing you. "Good to see you again sergeant." You hugged him tightly, so good to be held by him, embraced by Price again. You'd missed him so much.

Johnny was the second one to snap out of it, running over and wrapping his arms around you tightly. "What the hell is wrong with you doing this! You had us all sick and worried and heartbroken!!"

"It wasn't my plan... I'm sorry." You hugged Johnny back. "I'm so sorry Soap, I'm so sorry." Johnny couldn't stop his tears, not wanting to let go in fear you'd slip away again.

Gaz followed, hugging you tighter than you'd ever felt him do before. You'd never seen Gaz openly cry but he was balling, sobbing as he hugged you tightly.

"We thought you were dead, captain told us you were dead!"

"I had to do it to protect them... To protect all of us." Price knew this would probably take a bit for them all to come to terms and forgive him for, but it had to be done.

When the others were done cooing and coddling over you, there was just Simon left.

He felt alone. He felt cold and separated. He felt like he wasn't a part of the same bubble as the others... He watched them embrace and kiss and love on you... You. It was you.

You turned to him, but Simon didn't move. He didn't know if he could. He felt so consumed by his darkness and his grief it didn't allow him to step into the light.

He'd consumed himself so much if he touched you he felt he might burn. That you fall like sand from his fingertips and the illusion would shatter...

"Simon...." You whisper, stepping toward him, causing Simon to step back.

You could see the fear in his eyes. The lack of trust, the amount of hurt, the pain he must have went through to have one of his lifelines ripped away and then thrust back into his life suddenly like it was fine.

"I'm... I'm sorry Simon I didn't mean to hurt you. I listened to every voicemail you sent. I knew every text that went through. But I...."

"You could have told me you were fine! You could have told me you were ok!! Bullshit that you couldn't!! Bullshit!!" Simon thundered.

You remained silent. Simon glared at Price. This was his fault. You'd been taken away without warning. He could have kept it a secret he could have carried that knowledge and not been out through a years worth of fire from hell!

Simon threw his gun to the ground, not even carrying as he left again.

"Lieutenant! Simon!" Price called after him as Simon left the safehouse.

You placed your hand on Price's chest. "Don't... It's ok. Let me help him."

Price looked down. But he nodded.

You left the safehouse, finding Simon around the corner huddled up, shaky hands trying to light a cigarette to get his nerves to calm down and his mind to clear up.

"You hid from me." He cursed, acting like he was seconds from spitting your name into the dirt and squashing it. But you knew. You knew inside he was hurting more than anyone else on the team.

You knelt beside him, gently taking the lighter from his hands. "I never meant to hurt you. If I didn't have strict orders from Price I would have contact you right away."

"Why couldn't he have at least told us you were ok. That you were alive."

"I... I don't know Simon, you'll have to ask Price about that one. But I promise I never meant to hurt you. I listened to every voicemail, I didn't give up. I can see the pain it caused you."

You moved closer, slipping into his arms and hugging him tightly. The second you wrapped your arms around him. He felt your weight, your warmth, your heart pounding in your chest against his own.

Simon finally looked at you, tears spilling down his cheeks. He was shattered. So hurt from losing you.

"You fuckin' abandoned me!!"

"I didn't abandon you Simon. You know I would have picked up and came running back even if my leg was missing."

He knew it was true. But he was so... So angry and torn and upset. He wanted to scream and fight and he felt so small and helpless.

The real you.

Not some illusion passing corners or drifting through his peripherals. The you he could touch and hold and protect.

His arms wrapped around you tightly, never letting go of you even once. He didn't stop those tears as he pulled you impossibly closer.

"I'm here Simon. I'm not leaving again ok? I'm right here."

He remained silent, crying as he held onto you. Hiding his face in the crook of your neck. It felt like hours passed. It felt like time slowed. What felt like two hours was twenty minutes when he finally pulled away enough to look at your face.

To see the light in your glimmering eyes, to see every feature of your face that made you, you.

His sergeant. His teammate. His family.

You smiled softly, gently pulling up his mask off his head to cup his cheeks, rubbing your thumb gently over the dimple in his cheek you've seen when he shows you his smile.

"Smudged your paint a little bit," You whisper. "Let's get that fixed." You gently brush your finger over his face, feeling him start to relax at that familiar and missed touch as you fix the paint around his eyes.

"There we go. How can I help Simon. What will help make this better?"

Simon tried to flick away the rest of his tears, huffing softly. "Cuddles. And you are not allowed to say no after what you put me through. This is your punishment for making me go through that shit!"

You chuckle. "Oh, cuddles with Simon, scary. I'll pay the fine, I'll do all the punishment time of cuddles you request. Sound good?"

Simon nods his head.

"Ok, well how about we go inside now? I could use some cuddles too."

You were about to get up when Simon hugged you again. "I'm glad you're ok..."

You smiled softly, kissing the top of his head. "I am too Simon." You help his mask back on and the two of you head inside.

Simon would let out his feelings to Price sometime later when his head felt less foggy. For now, he was content to crash on the rickety old safehouse bed and koala cling to you till kingdom come.

Nuzzling up and holding you tightly, not letting you go for even a itty bitty millisecond.

And you were fine with that. You were glad you could be back with your family. Simon was glad to welcome you back. You'd be serving a lot of cuddle prison time. A strenuous task, but one all too rewarding.

Running your hand down the back of his head, scratching his back to help him relax and set himself at ease.

All he needed was to koala crush your soul into his soul, and then he'd be ok. Slowly, his eyes started to close after the exhaustion of the mission, but he fought to keep them open.

"I'll be right here when you wake up. I promise, I won't be going anywhere." You whisper to him.

"You promise?"

"I double swear it. I won't leave. I'll be right here."

He snuggled you impossibly closer and let his eyes close. He let his mind rest. His heart soak in you and heal. Slowly you could help mend what has fallen apart.

And cuddles were never a bad place to start...

[mythicalmyles]

step brother Toby 🧍👀 (also i hope tomorrow gets better💗 )

After this ask im gonna have too much in my mind lmfaoo

Stepcest/dubcon/manipulation/tobys gross n toxic/bottom male reader

You huffed out, turning to look at the man that was now your brother. You hated the fact your dad had remarried but there was little you could do, he had made his mind up and moved her and her hell spawn into your home.

Toby stared a lot. Especially when you wire nothing but a towel after a hot shower, you tried to push back any thoughts that tried to weasel into your mind. You couldn’t deny his lifeless brown eyes would easily pin you in place, he always had a smirk on his face, like he knew something else no one else knew.

You were stuck alone with him, he sat on his bed, hair messy and unkempt. He’d likely ran his hands through his locks, deciding that was enough. He wore grey sweat pants decorated with stains that showed off his boxers, he was well defined which had initially surprised you. His glasses sat crooked on his nose, his dark bags hanging down his eyes as he stared at the screen infront of him. He had his shirt off, leaving his mouth watering chest on display. He was toxic as hell, always shouting obscenities down the mic. Even if he had done something stupid he’d still blow his top on those around him.

You were usually quick to make yourself scarce during the times he was gaming, instead you lay on your stomach and watched him lazily as anger seared over his features. “Yo-you fuh-fucking bitch!” He suddenly screamed out, throwing the control off the wall and nearly causing you to leap out of bed. It was too late once you’d realised your mistake.

Something evil took over Toby’s face when his eyes landed on you, his lips pulled into a snarl and a horrifying look in his eyes. You felt like a little fawn that had been dropped into the line of sight of a starved wolf. He moved to strike, jumping up just before your brain finally clicked. He was pissed and you must’ve looked like a target.

Fear flooded through you as you scrambled up, desperately praying for escape. Toby literally slammed the thoughts out of your head, sending you fly into the wall. You let out a cry as your body hit the wall, head slamming against the plaster and leaving your head spinning.

He had always scared you, he disappeared for days on end and always came back just that little bit extra terrifying. It was almost like every time he came back he left a little more humanity behind. You had tried so hard to stay out of his way despite sharing a room, you knew he was a ticking time bomb and yet you had stayed any way. You’d long given up on having your room look nice, he always tore it up anyway.

He grabbed your wrists, slamming them against the wall so hard you yelped. “T-Toby, ple-please.” The look on his face let you know just how big of a mistake you had made, he held your arms above your head with one hand while the other wrapped around your throat. His grip was tight and unforgiving, you were positive his nails would leave scars along your neck. You choked out a whimper, tears dripping from your eyes as he choked you to the point of blackout. He stopped just before you fell over the edge and into darkness, pulling away watching as you fell to your knees grasping your neck and choking.

Toby didn’t have any interest in you at first, intent on keeping the worst parts of himself until he was ready to leave. But when he caught sight of that dumb little look on your face it went straight to his cock, he knew you feared him and he relished in it. He was enraged from his game, the idiots in his team sucked. When he caught sight of you after his rage he felt something stir in him, the fear on your face, the way you bit down onto your lip eyeing him like you were about to bolt. He couldn’t have that.

That was how you’d ended up biting onto your sheets, Toby’s cock smashing deep inside of you. You felt your tears rush down your cheeks and soak into your sheets. “You like tha-a-that? Getting fuh-fucked by your big bro-brother?” Toby was insane, his words were lewd and disgusting. Yet your cock leaked between your legs, body shaking as he nailed into you. He left deep scratches in your hips, slamming you back onto his cock.

You couldn’t breathe, he loved the way you struggled underneath him. “S-stop To-toby-y.” You choked out one last time, he knew you didn’t mean it. He knew by the way your back arched, letting his cock slide deeper into you. Your choked moans filled the room along with the sound of him slamming into you, his cock abusing your prostate.

He ripped himself out and flipped you over, baring down at you with a shark toothed grin. He looked terrifying, drool dripping from his mouth as he stared down at you. The sight of his cock slamming into your tight hole was almost enough to spur him over the edge. “Ye-yeah that-thats it baby, ta-ah-take my cock.” He slammed your lips together, tongue forcing its way into your mouth and wasting no time in exploring. You whined into the kiss, feeling both of your saliva dripping down your face and neck.

“Do-dont wor-ry ill take go-good care of you, li-lit-little bro.” Toby’s words left you whining, hands grabbing desperately against his shoulders. You barely had a moment before an orgasm ripped through you, tearing you apart at the seams and leaving you clenching around Toby’s cock.

You clenched hard around him, sobbing and whining as you felt his cum flood your stomach. He flopped down onto you, his weight keeping you pinned down as he lazily ground into you. He ignored your overstimulated cries, content to keep his cock buried in your tight ass. “Suh-such a good b-boy.” Toby muttered, petting your hair as you came down from your high.

[jihyoruri]

❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ 𓍢 SHAMELESS kazuha nakamura x reader

↳ warnings: idol!au, sserafim!reader, fluff

doing press in another country was different, it was interesting to kazuha on how different the interview will go based on the type of interviewer you have, you have the stush ones that ask the most stuck up questions, you have the thoughtful ones that are genuinely interested in learning more about the group, you have the funny ones that know how to ease the tension and then you have the shameless ones, the type that kazuha is encountering right now.

“sorry, yn you’re making me nervous,” the interviewer said to the girl beside kazuha who laughs, “am I?” yn asks making the interviewer giggle like a school girl while kazuha tried her best not to scrunch up her face.

“yeah, you like eye contact im guessing,” the interviewer says as yn nods her head, yunjin budding in saying that she indeed does like eye contact.

“I do,” yn responds leaning back in her seat causing the interviewer to let out another giggle causing kazuha to mentally roll her eyes, the girl was used to witnessing yn’s affects on people, mostly women so she doesn’t know why this one bothered her the most.

“I guess my research told me the truth, you really are here for the visual service.” kazuha couldn’t help but tilt her head at that but sakura nudged her.

“that’s my job,” yn shrugs nonchalantly, fixing the backwards cap on her head and kazuha feels like she’s gonna scream when she hears that giggle again.

“has anybody told you that you’re nose is perfect,” the interviewer says tucking a strand of hair behind her ear her gaze intensely on yn, causing the other members to give each other small looks, mostly at kazuha.

“not as nicely as you, most of the time they ask where I got my alleged nose job done,” the interviewer lets out a laugh at yn’s response.

“you’re so funny,” the interviewer says before bringing her attention to yunjin proceeding the interview, but not without taking peeks at yn every few seconds or letting out that awful giggle every time yn says something.

kazuha’s energy was obviously off as the interview went on and she knew yn could sense it but she just didn’t know what could be bothering the japanese girl.

yn was oblivious like that.

“okay, before this interview finishes yn, im sorry but you are so fine.” the girl says causing all the girls to laugh in shock except kazuha who just forces a smile.

yn flashes her charming smile to interviewer, “it’s the visual service I guess.” she says quoting the girl as the interviewer lets out another giggle before the cameras stop rolling and kazuha is already walking over to their manager to get a sip of her water.

yn talks with yunjin as they walked over to another one of their managers, yn taking her sunglasses from them and putting it on her face.

“is that even necessary?” yunjin laughs while the younger girl adjusts the expensive sunglasses.

“it completes the outfit, I would’ve worn it in the interview but then I would’ve looked baked.” yn says placing one of her wired headphones in her ear, before looking to the side to see kazuha with her face in her phone, “im gonna go talk to zuha,” yn says pointing at the girl while yunjin nods understandingly.

“watching edits of me again?” kazuha looked up from her phone and is met with her girlfriend with her eyes covered in sunglasses, and she can’t help but laugh in her head at the girl wearing sunglasses inside.

“that was one time,” she rolls her eyes as yn grabs her hands and pulls her up from her seat and takes the girls spot, kazuha’s mouth dropped at the action before yn then pulls her to sit in her lap.

kazuha feels her face heat up as yn places her chin on her shoulder before whispering in her ear, “are gonna tell me?”

“tell you what?” kazuha asks back, she feels shivers go down her spine as yn whispers back, “what’s got you so in your feelings?”

oh.

as much as kazuha loves yn, sometimes she feels like the girl could be a perfect bimbo so attractive but so oblivious and dumb sometimes.

“oh, I don’t know maybe it was the interviewer flirting with you like her life depended on it,” kazuha was used to seeing the flirts with yn but this one was just so shameless, she wasn’t even trying to be subtle at all.

yn opens her mouth but kazuha cuts her off, “and don’t play dumb, she was literally about to jump across the table towards you if she could.”

yn just lets out a laugh and wraps her arms around kazuha’s waist pulling the girl closer, “so you’re jealous?” she teases

“what do you think?” kazuha says embarrassed at yn’s teasing tone, “and take off those stupid sunglasses, we’re inside.”

“okay, first of all rude,” yn pinches kazuha’s side causing the girl to squirm, “it doesn’t matter who flirts with me im still gonna be all yours so you have nothing to worry about, right? im still gonna be your smoking hot girlfriend.”

kazuha rolls her eyes and mumbles out a yeah to the point that it’s inaudible, “I didn’t quite catch that, wanna repeat that for me?” yn whispers in her ear, tickling her side

“I said yeah.” kazuha says loudly flinching at yn’s tickling before turning her head around to face yn, “you said you’re my smoking hot girlfriend does that make me yours?”

“it’s that even a question?” yn responds before a look grows on her face and kazuha immediately knows she’s gonna say something dumb so she grabs the chain on yn’s neck and pulls her towards her lips softly kissing her.

yn smiles into the kiss and brings her hand from kazuha’s waist to the back of the girls neck deepening the kiss.

“the car is here,” yunjin interrupts them with a look of disgust on her face.

kazuha looks down in embarrassment and gets up from yn’s lap, pulling the girl up with her who’s the exact opposite of her with zero traces of embarrassment on her face.

“what didn’t say about kissing in front of me, where is your shame?” yunjin says pointing her finger towards the younger couple.

yn let’s put a deep sigh and puts back in her wired headphones in her ear before wrapping an arm around kazuha’s waist and proceeding to walk towards the exit, “you’re just mad you’re alone.”

“hey!”

[redvexillum]

Here me out. Vox working on wiring some new monitors and getting tangled in the wires. His lovely little assistant finds her boss stuck, wires pulling his shirt a bit up and... well... Vox is pissy becasue he's being seen stuck but he needs help. And the more he tries to wiggle out of the wires, the tighter they get and oh my, does he like that?

🦊- just a random fox passing through, nothing to see here. Def Not Kit.

Dearest Kit or Def Not Kit, I've been going feral over Vox x Reader and I have no one to blame but you for making me fall deeper in love with the flat screen TV-head demon. Your request has been living rent free in my head since the day I saw your devilish prompt sitting sexily in my inbox. Kit or Def Not Kit. Do you see my request list on my front page? Do you see how long it is? I say this with utmost love and respect for you, but damn you for making me possessed and open my word document at 1 in the morning as the story gets longer and longer. XOXO, RedVexi 💋

SUMMARY: Your boss is a class-A hole, and you had envisioned tormenting him for all the overtime he was forcing you to work. Truly, he was ensuring that your time in Hell was...Hell. Perhaps it was you burning out, but you had a very vivid, steamy dream of your boss.

...At least, you were pretty sure it was a dream.

TAGS/WARNINGS: f!reader, assistant!reader, dom/sub undertone, sub!Vox, dom!reader, hating your boss to confused h*rny, reader has vivid s*xual imagination, reader is extremely sleep deprived and is so done with Vox's shenanigans, Vox is sort-of a jerk, fluff if you squint

At first, the letters on your document seemed to shift ever so slightly, causing you to misread some of the words. You squinted, trying to focus on each letter, but it was no use. The words began to dance and twist, performing their own chaotic ballet at an infuriatingly quick tempo. Your head spun, the floor beneath you tilted slightly at an angle, and a sharp pain pierced behind your eyes.  

“Ah, fuck,” you muttered, pressing your hand against the middle of your throbbing forehead in a futile attempt to alleviate the discomfort. You took a deep, fortifying breath and reached for your energy drink, downing the sickly sweet liquid that had become your elixir of life. You had lost count after the tenth can, and the end of your workload seemed to grow every time you checked your to-do list.  

Everyone else had long since left the office, leaving you alone in the oppressive silence of mandatory overtime, working under the relentless demands of the most unreasonable, Hell-worthy, boss.  

The weight of exhaustion pressed down on you, the muscles in your back and neck ached, and your mind screamed for a moment of reprieve. The flickering fluorescent lights above cast a harsh glare on the endless sea of paperwork before you. Each page mocked your efforts, sadistically laughing at you to try to make sense of the cryptic mess of letters and numbers that the previous assistant had left behind.  

As you took another swig of the energy drink, the taste no longer registered, your tongue felt tingly yet numb. It was just a means to an end, a way to keep pushing forward despite the shroud of fatigue threatening to take away your sight.  

“Just a few more hours,” you whispered to yourself, a mantra of survival in the face of exhaustion. The words offered no comfort, but they were all you had now. Taking another deep breath, you picked up one of the many documents littered across your desk. One look and a wave of frustration crashed into you. What was the previous assistant even trying to achieve? 

Nothing made sense.  

Groaning, you leaned back in your chair, letting your head fall back as you squeezed your eyes shut. How many days had it been since you’d had a full night’s sleep? You’d thought being a personal assistant to the CEO of VoxTek – an Overlord of Hell – would pave your path with literal gold.  

Instead, you were wading through a relentless tide of paperwork, guzzling obscene amounts of energy drinks, and simmering in a pit of sexual frustration. Seriously, when was the last time you got laid? Every single one of your partners had left you, fed up with being forever second to your work.  

This morning, your girlfriend – ah, ex-girlfriend now – had screamed at you to choose between her and your job. Before you could respond, your Vwatch buzzed, reminding you it was time to pick up your boss’ dry cleaning.  

With an apologetic smile, you gave her a quick peck on the cheek and pleaded to postpone the conversation until after work. The last thing you heard before you closed the door was her muttering: “Go fuck yourself.” 

And…fuck yourself indeed because the moment you sat at your desk to slog through another hellish day of ungodly work hours, your phone vibrated with her text message. Her final text message telling you that she was leaving you.  

Sighing deeply, the weight of her words pressed down on you. It was a reminder that you were sacrificing everything for your job once again.  

Slowly, you opened your eyes, the fluorescent lights blinded you temporarily. You had died like this – overworked to death for a massive corporation when you were alive. Was this truly your fate, to repeat your human life in Hell?  

Could you find happiness even in this damned place? 

Your shoulders jolted up, and you scrambled to sit upright as you heard the loud crackle of electricity echoing inside the empty room. The demon responsible for your lack of sleep and failing relationships boldly strolled through your office the moment he materialized out from the security camera.  

The prick, a.k.a. your boss.  

“There you are!” Your boss, with all the glory of a cheap flat-screen TV for a head, loomed over you. With a click of his tongue, he narrowed his red digital eyes. “I asked you to bring me the reports thirty seconds ago!” he pointed at your Vwatch, the manacle chaining you to the company, to him.  

You felt your left eye twitch once, twice.  

Thirty fucking seconds.  

Was this for real? Was he seriously pissed off because you didn’t run to his fucking safety hazard of an office within thirty seconds?  

The rage simmered beneath your exhaustion, a boiling, whistling kettle ready to blow its top. The audacity of this bitch-ass baby, to demand so much for so little recognition. Every muscle in your body begged for rest, for a break from the relentless grind that had followed you from the mortal world to damnation.  

Lord, you hated him. Never mind that he could have picked up the fucking report himself.  He literally had the power to teleport anywhere in the building through the security cameras, which were everywhere.  

A sudden, intrusive thought barged its way through your mind. This was your moment. Your moment to finally release the manacle that had been wrapped around your right wrist for the past nine and a half years. A moment to throw this cheaply made watch at his equally tacky flat-screened face.  

Your left fingers twitched, but you remained still, sitting in the chair with your head bowed.  

Were you being too rash?  

Yes. You were.  

You weren’t thinking clearly, overworked and burnt out as you were. 

You couldn't quit even if you wanted to...at least not right now.

The muscles in your eyes continued to twitch as your ears slowly honed in on the sound of Vox throwing a bitch-fit, comparing you to his last assistant, who was “so” much better. He made sure to stress the word “so,” emphasizing your supposed lack of drive, productivity, and quality of work.  

You weren’t really listening to his words. His voice melded seamlessly with the whirring of the computer fans, a droning background noise to your mounting frustration. Each of his cutting remarks sliced through the restraint that held your volatile anger at bay.  

Vox could leave now that he had his report, but he chose to belittle you instead. Your gaze flickered to your wrist, to the cursed device that had dictated the course of your life. You were sure that if you threw this watch at his face, the look of shock glitching across the screen would be quite hilarious.  

“Are you even listening?” he snapped, his voice pulling you back from the haze of your addicting, intrusive thoughts.  

Your eyes flicked back up, meeting the static-filled screen that served as his face. “Yes, sir,” you lied, your voice steady despite the turmoil within.  

“God, I’m surrounded by imbeciles, you and Val–” Vox continued to rant out into the vast empty office that only housed the two of you.  

Couldn’t he see that everyone else had already left? Couldn’t he appreciate that you were still working after hours every single day for almost a fucking decade just to meet his unreasonable expectations? 

Jaws clenching, you continued to hold back your frustration and ire by the skin of your teeth. Couldn’t he just let you catch a single break? For fuck’s sake, you had just gone through a breakup because, once again, you had chosen work – chosen him – instead of your girlfriend, instead of your happiness.  

The desire to pull on his gaudy red bow tie tight, making sure he felt the constriction around his throat, was overwhelming. You imagined pushing him onto your desk, straddling him. You would make sure to crinkle all his precious reports for good measure too.  

Your gaze landed on the way the light reflected off the flat screen of his face. You would smack him, open-handed, just like you used to do with your grandpa’s old television when it fritzed out.  

You remembered your grandpa’s words: You only need one good smack to get it working right again, dear.  

Maybe all Vox needed was that one good smack to be fucking humble for once. Then your eyes dropped to the front of his pants. He was such a massive dick, probably compensating for the size of his package.  

How you wanted to strangle his limp, tiny dick, to see him helpless and subdued. Maybe you could wrap his dick with the goddamn cables you always tripped over whenever you visit his office.  

A smirk lifted your lips as you envisioned the scene. Vox, strung up by his pathetic, limp dick, his eyes wide with fear and humiliation. He would cry and whine, begging you to stop, but you wouldn’t. After all, this had been a long time coming, a deserved retribution for all the bullshit and verbal abuse he had hurled your way.  

“— and don’t get me started on the fact that you look like a hot mess! Don’t you know that VoxTek has an image to uphold–” 

You imagined forcing him to fold over your desk. You’d make him take his cock into his mouth, the humiliating act of self-servitude making him gag. With one hand, you’d grip the edge of his head, shoving his face down further, and with the other, you’d ram a thick, fat dildo into his tight, unused ass.  

His pathetic whimpers would be muffled by the growing hardness in his mouth, a pitiful noise that only drove your desire to dominate him completely.  

You’d thrust into him relentlessly, the dildo filling him over and over. The tight ring of his ass would pucker up, trying to grip the dildo, to keep it shoved up all the way in his ass. Each thrust would be a punishment, a reminder of every insult and degrading comment he had thrown at you.  

“All I’m saying is, I expect better from you–” 

You would fuck him hard and fast with the toy, spurred on by his moans he would desperately want to hold back.  

Vox let out a sardonic laugh. “Then again, maybe that’s asking too much, expecting something incredibly simple from you–” 

You would thrust into him, again.  

“You had one job, and you can’t even–” 

Again.  

“Are you even trying–” 

And again, until you forced him to swallow his own pathetic release. The thought was intoxicating, having Vox submit completely to you. You could see it vividly: his face contorting with a mix of pain and unexpected pleasure. His eyes would squeeze shut, trying to stop the tears forming in his eyes. 

“Sorry, sir,” you blurted out, feeling the heat creeping up to your cheeks and below your gut. Holy shit, were you seriously just thinking of all that? Were you fantasizing about… 

Your boss. 

Your fucking boss.

Shit.  

You were more exhausted than you thought. Clearly, you were horny, tired, and caffeinated to the point of insanity to even entertain the idea of touching your fucking boss.  

Fuck, you desperately needed rest.  

Vox paused, his eyes widened giving you a glimpse of a myriad of emotions you couldn't recognize except one: vulnerability. But that didn't make sense because you meant so little to him – he gave two shits about you.

Before you could scrutinize further, he cleared his throat drawing you away from your circling thoughts. “Yes, well, I expect you to get the reports for the new project organized before tomorrow morning.” 

This time, it was your turn for your eyes to widen. “B-but, sir, th-that's going to take me all night!” You couldn’t stop the whine from spilling out.

His expression remained impassive, the flat screen of his face reflecting your frustration and fatigue back at you. “And?” he said, his tone cold and merciless. “That’s what you’re here for, isn’t it?” 

The weight of his words doused your initial flare of anger and was now replaced with perpetual exhaustion. Your body screamed for rest, for a break from this endless cycle of work. But as you looked at Vox, you knew there was no escape, at least not tonight.  

You would push through, as you always did, because, like an idiot you had signed a contract with him to work for Voxtek for the next ten years. You couldn't afford to break that contract, as it would be an automatic forfeiture of your soul.

Curling your fingers into a tight fists, you repeated the same words that acted as your only saving grace for the past two years. You counted down the time before you could finally be freed.

Six more months.

Six more months of working under your shitty boss until you could quit and never look back.

The thought of freedom was a fragile hope, barely enough to sustain you through the grinding monotony and constant humiliation. The tension in your body slowly eased as your fists unfurled, letting your hands hang limply by your sides.

Swallowing the bitter taste of frustration, you forced yourself to nod. "Yes, sir, I'll get it–"

Vox walked away before you could finish your sentence, disappearing with a flash of electricity through his security camera.  

Sighing, you looked at the pile of papers haphazardly covering your desk. The faint hum of the overhead lights and the whirring of computer fans were your only companions. You rubbed your temples, feeling the tension in your head intensify.  

You picked up a stack of papers, and your eyes caught sight of your cell phone peeking out from the mound of documents.  

It looked like you had another long night ahead of you.  

Not that it mattered.  

You had no one to come home to anyway.  

NEXT ->

💠 MASTERLIST 💠 © Fanart of Vox by@glitterypeachy

[kk095]

Xmas in the ER

*Hello there everyone, and merry Christmas to those who celebrate! As promised, here's my latest story. I hope you all enjoy the story as much as I do, and feel free to shoot me a message, comment, or leave me asks if you have any questions! I will also be posting another story sometime on New Year's Eve.*

As the old saying goes, Christmas is the most wonderful time of the year. The holiday is a great opportunity to spend time with loved ones, exchange gifts, and make lifelong memories. But for Dr Lindsay, this year’s Christmas was just another Wednesday where she was tasked with holding down the 7pm to 7am overnight shift in our ER. Naturally, Lindsay was bummed out about the idea of having to work on Christmas, but the emergency department is a 24/7 operation! Little did she know, she’d still have a holiday she’d never forget!

That night, the weather was awful. It was dark, freezing cold, and snowing heavily. Visibility was limited, and the roads were covered in a fresh coat of snow and ice. “Jeez… I bet we’ll have a couple of MVCs tonight.” Lindsay thought to herself shortly after she started driving, trying her best to carefully make her way to work through the frozen, wintery landscape. Fortunately for Lindsay, the roads were mostly empty, most people in the area opting to stay indoors. Even though the roads were empty, the conditions were less than ideal, so she felt the best move was to drive slowly.

Despite Lindsay doing everything in her power to arrive safely at the emergency department, fate had other plans for the cute, sporty tomboy doctor! On the highway about 10 minutes or so from her destination, Lindsay’s car slipped on a patch of ice on the road. The car almost immediately lost control, redirecting the doctor’s vehicle towards a cement barrier in the median of the highway. Lindsay’s heart raced as she white-knuckled the steering wheel, frantically attempting to regain control of the errant vehicle. But it all happened so fast! There was only so much Lindsay could do in those few seconds. Lindsay was unable to stop or change the trajectory of her car and slammed head on into the cement median.

CRUNCH! The windshield shattered, glass fragments flying everywhere inside the vehicle acting almost as little bits of shrapnel. Lindsay raised one arm to attempt to cover her face from the glass shards, but a few nicked her face and neck. The steering column was forced inwards, slamming Lindsay in her chest with tremendous force before being blown back a second or so later when the airbag deployed. “AHHH!” Dr Lindsay yelped, feeling something pop inside her chest. Even with the vehicle stopped after the impact, the momentum generated from the accident caused Lindsay to be thrown around a bit. Just like that, the roles were reversed, and now Lindsay found herself in need of assistance in the ER.

Upon arrival at the emergency department, Lindsay was awake, alert, and doing anything and everything she could to fight through the pain. While being wheeled in through the main entryway of the ER, she was laid out on a backboard atop a gurney with a c-collar around her neck. Lindsay was stripped barefoot, down to just her black sports bra and scrub pants. EKG electrodes and wires were stuck onto her torso, while IV lines were set up in each arm. A blood pressure cuff was wrapped around her left bicep, and a pulse oximeter was on her left index finger. The ER doc’s body was in relatively good shape, but she had some cuts and scrapes on her face and neck from the glass shards.

While being wheeled in, Dr Lindsay was experiencing a weird déjà vu of sorts. She’s walked through those same entryway doors more times than she could count, but she never saw the emergency department from that angle. She couldn’t wrap her mind around the idea of being brought in as a patient. Her pretty blue eyes scanned her surroundings, attempting to make sense of the nonsense. “33 year old female, blunt chest trauma, single car MVC. BP 60 over palp, heart rate’s 140 and climbing, pulse ox down to 90. Got IVs going on scene and started fluids, but her vitals aren’t looking too good.” Lindsay heard a female medic rattle off while wheeling the stretcher down the hall towards trauma room one. “Ok, thank you. Let’s get her over to trauma one. I’m gonna start her on the MTP and get a chest x ray.” A familiar voice replied to the medic. “who is that?” Lindsay thought to herself. “Dr Sarah maybe? I know she was supposed to work the day shift today.” Lindsay answered, still thinking to herself.

The gurney was still being wheeled towards the trauma bay. Dr Sarah leaned over, coming into Lindsay’s line of sight and lowered a stethoscope onto her chest. Sarah didn’t look down at Lindsay’s face, so she didn’t immediately realize who her next patient was. “Diminished breath sounds on the left side, we might need a chest tube.” Sarah observed, pulling her stethoscope away after a brief listen. Dr Sarah then looked down at the gurney, her eyes locking with Lindsay’s. Sarah’s eyes could be seen widening behind her glasses, absolutely stunned at what she was looking at. Sarah gasped, unable to get a word out. “Sarah….?” Lindsay whimpered, her voice weak and breathy. “OHMYGOD, Linds?! What happened?” Marveled Dr Sarah, still processing the concept of Dr Lindsay- a friend and coworker, being her next patient. Lindsay’s lip quivered, her eyes started to moisten. “my car… it just slipped… I don’t know what happened…” Lindsay explained to Sarah, her voice wobbly, now on the verge of tears. “It’s ok Linds, it’s gonna be ok! We’re gonna take a good look at you!” Consoled Sarah, gently grabbing Lindsay’s right hand, her voice a bit panicked.

Once in the trauma room, the stretcher was lined up parallel to the table, where Nurses Heather and Nancy waited. “LINDSAY?!” Heather exclaimed the instant she recognized who the patient was. “Hunny?! What happened?!” Nurse Nancy chimed in, equally surprised. Lindsay didn’t answer, but the familiar voices certainly comforted her through the terrifying uncertainty she was experiencing. “Let’s get her on the table on my count! One… Two… THREE!” Sarah barked out. The trio of beautiful ladies picked up the backboard and carefully moved their coworker onto the table while the paramedics took their stretcher back and exited the room. “Ah….” Winced Lindsay, feeling some pain inside her chest while being placed down on the table. Dr Lindsay squinted, the bright, fluorescent overhead light practically blinding her. “BPs 60 over palp and dropping. Hang 4 units of O-neg and prep Lindsay for a chest tube.” Ordered Dr Sarah, her voice urgent. “Linds? I have to put in a left chest tube. You know how bad they hurt, but be strong for me, ok? I promise I’ll be fast.” Dr Sarah kept Lindsay in the loop about her treatment. Lindsay hesitated for a moment, trying to mentally prepare for the pain she was about to endure. But the logical, doctor side of her took over, realizing that the brutal, painful procedure had to be done. Dr Lindsay’s eyes looked up at Sarah, and she nodded. “Go ahead.” Permitted Lindsay, giving Sarah the green light to begin chest tube placement.

Lindsay laid on the table in the supine position, her left arm raised above along her head. The normally calm and collected Dr Lindsay had a nervous expression on her face. The doctor turned patient’s lips were pinched tight, her forehead puckered, her icy blue-grey eyes looking in the direction of her left ribcage where the tube was to be inserted. She watched Dr Sarah insert a needle full of lidocaine to numb the skin. Lindsay felt a quick pinch, but nothing too worrisome. Sarah then sterilized the incision area with an alcohol wipe. “Ok Linds… Here we go…” The cute, nerdy redhead doctor told Lindsay, reaching for a 10 blade scalpel that sat on an equipment tray beside the trauma room table. Sarah took the scalpel and made a 1 inch cut at the intersection of the 4th intercostal space and anterior axillary line. Lindsay could feel the cold, sharp blade’s every move as it effortlessly slashed her skin apart. Lindsay saw stars, her eyes rolling back in pain. After the cut was made, Sarah attached a Kelly clamp to the proximal end of the chest tube, then bluntly inserted it into Lindsay’s chest cavity. “YAHHH!!!!” Yelped Lindsay, her eyes shooting wide open. Dr Sarah continued the procedure, guiding the tube further into Lindsay’s chest cavity into the pleural space. “AHHHH!!!” Lindsay let out a blood curdling scream, in absolute agony, her eyes tearing up, both her hands making tight fists, feeling the plastic tube forcing its way deeper inside her chest. There was a hiss of air once the tube reached the correct location from trapped air vacating Lindsay’s chest cavity. Lindsay gasped loudly and dramatically, then attempted to sit up. “whoawhoawhoa!” Nurse Heather stepped in, gently laying Lindsay back down on the table. “Stay still for us Linds. So far so good hunny.” Nancy chimed in, gently stroking Lindsay’s hair. Sarah lowered her stethoscope onto Lindsay’s chest and had a listen. “Tube’s in.” Sarah nodded.

Although Lindsay’s breathing improved following the chest tube placement, her vital signs continued to drop. Dr Sarah started another round of blood products and upped Lindsay’s meds, but that didn’t seem to be doing the trick. Lindsay began to shiver dramatically. Her long legs trembled and shook, and at the far end of the bed, her toes were scrunched up hard, showing off the white and red candy cane themed nail polish on her toes, along with the thin, wavy, prominent wrinkles that permeated the soles of the big, size 12 feet Lindsay was always so self conscious of. “Mmmmm…” Lindsay moaned. Dr Lindsay began taking rapid, shallow breaths, continuing to moan. “Shhh. It’s ok Linds. Hang in there a little longer for me…” Nurse Nancy’s calm, soothing voice told Lindsay. “I…I…” Lindsay babbled. “You what sweetie?” asked Nancy. “I just… I can’t believe I’m gonna die on Christmas…” Replied Lindsay, an impending sense of doom consuming her. The trio of caretakers in the room stood there frozen for a second, taken aback by Lindsay’s response. Nobody could believe that words like that were coming from Lindsay’s mouth. “You’re not dying hunny! We need you here New Year’s Eve! You know how we get slammed every year!” Nancy tried to encourage, her tone of voice upbeat and positive. “New Year’s Eve? Pshhh…” Lindsay scoffed, continuing to shiver. “I’m gonna be toe tagged and under a sheet in a little while…. Forget New year’s…” continued Lindsay. “No hunny, don’t say that! We’re gonna fix you up!” Nancy reassured, her voice getting a bit wobbly, upset by how Lindsay was talking about her own fate.

Before Lindsay could even answer, she started gasping loudly, taking deep, dramatic gasps. The heart monitors began beeping louder and faster, playing an almost ominous tone. “She’s crashing…” Heather announced. “linds? Stay with us hunny!” Nurse Nancy said to Lindsay, holding her right hand for a second. Again, Lindsay didn’t answer. Her frantic hyperventilating continued, her eyes WIDE open. “We need to intubate. 8.0 ET and a laryngoscope!.” Ordered Sarah, her voice roaring through the room. “Lindsay? I’m gonna intubate you, ok?” Sarah told Lindsay, moving to the head of the bed. Dr Lindsay looked up at Dr Sarah, their eyes locking for a moment. Lindsay looked like she was trying to mouth something, but couldn’t get the words out. “What’s up Linds?” asked Sarah. Lindsay didn’t answer. Her eyes shifted away from Sarah’s. Lindsay’s eyes remained wide open, but became locked at the ceiling. It was like a switch was flipped. Lindsay’s shivering and gasping came to an abrupt stop. The monitors began to alarm at that point. “V-fib! Starting compressions!!!” Nurse Heather shouted out. Heather immediately began chest compressions, pushing down on Lindsay’s chest hard and fast. Nancy swooped in, snipping off Lindsay’s sports bra, exposing her small breasts and hard nipples. At the head of the bed, Sarah got right to it, beginning rapid sequence intubation. The nerdy redheaded doctor carefully navigated the flexible plastic tube into her friend’s airway. Lindsay’s head bobbed and lolled around from the residual force of Heather’s hearty compressions, creating a moving target for Sarah- nothing that Sarah couldn’t handle! The breathing tube was navigated further into Lindsay’s airway, ending up in the correct depth and location in a matter of seconds. “I’m in!” Sarah confidently announced, taping the tube in place.

Post-intubation, the trauma team decided to shock Lindsay. The defibrillator paddles were charged to 200 joules, gelled, and pressed up against Lindsay’s bare, flat chest. “Alright! Everyone…CLEAR!” Sarah shouted, sending the first shock into the patient once everyone backed away. “MMMPH!” Lindsay moaned, as if she felt the shock. The first defibrillation didn’t do the trick, onto the second one! The defibs were recharged to 250 joules, and shock #2 was promptly delivered. “Mmm….” Moaned Lindsay, again, almost as if she knew what was being done to her. Shocks one and two didn’t do the trick, but third time’s the charm, right? The paddles were charged up to 300, and Lindsay was shocked. Her chest shot up and her back arched. She held that position for a second or two before plopping down onto the orange backboard. “Damn it, no change! Shocking again at 360. Everyone… CLEAR!” Barked Dr Sarah. KA-THUNK! Lindsay’s 6’1 frame was tossed around effortlessly by the stronger shock, but like before, v-fib persisted. With the paddles still pressed up against Lindsay’s bare chest, Sarah shocked Dr Lindsay again at 360 joules. At the far end of the table, Lindsay’s feet kicked up, slamming back down hard half a second later, wrinkling the soles of her big feet once again.

Following the fifth shock, the trauma team switched gears, giving CPR and ambu bagging another try. Heather placed the heel of her gloved hand on the middle of Lindsay’s chest and began pumping away hard and fast. Lindsay’s chest caved in, and her toned belly with abs rippled and jiggled out from the sheer force of the chest compressions. Heather felt Lindsay’s ribs break, but nonetheless, she kept up her life saving efforts. At the head of the bed, Nurse Nancy attached the ambu bag to the ET tube, puffing the light blue bag every few seconds or so, sending critically needed oxygen directly into the coding doctor’s lungs. Dr Sarah stood off to the side of the table injecting the first doses of epinephrine and atropine into Lindsay’s IV line in hopes of stimulating positive cardiac activity. While waiting for the meds to kick in, Heather kept at it, brutally going to town on her coworker (now patient’s) chest. Heather looked down at Lindsay’s face while continuing CPR. Lindsay’s head bobbed and bounced around in sync with each individual compression. Her eyes were WIDE open, her face locked in a full-blown death stare. The ET tube hung out the side of Lindsay’s mouth, taped in place, hugging her pale lips. Heather couldn’t believe a familiar face was in such dire shape. “The ones with their eyes open never make it…” Heather thought to herself. Back at the head of the table, Nancy continued ambu bagging. “You’ve got a long life ahead of you�� We all love you and need you here Linds…” Nancy whispered into Lindsay’s ear, as if she was trying to convince Lindsay to not die.

Over the coming minutes, Lindsay’s chest began to take an absolute beating. A nasty bruise started to form in the center of her chest on top of the breastbone. Mid code, Lindsay’s chest tube began to drain a substantial amount of blood seemingly out of nowhere. “What the hell?...” A surprised Dr Sarah thought out loud. In the blink of an eye, a couple liters of blood drained through the tube. “She’s bleeding somewhere in her chest. Maybe a cardiac chamber or great vessel injury.” Speculated Sarah, trying to explain away what she was seeing. “I’m gonna do an echo. Let’s see what her heart’s doing. Maybe that’ll give me something to work with.” Sarah went on. With CPR ongoing, Sarah squirted a little bit of clear, conductive ultrasound gel onto Lindsay’s bare chest. She turned on the ultrasound monitor screen and lowered the wand onto the portion of Lindsay’s chest where the gel was and began moving it around for a second or two to spread it out a bit. Sarah then moved the ultrasound wand over Lindsay’s heart and eyes the monitor screen. “….oh Lord…what a mess in there…” Uttered Sarah. “Hmm?” Heather overheard. “Massive tamponade.” Sarah shook her head. “Pericardiocentesis?” asked Heather, wondering what the next step was. “I don’t think that’ll do the trick. We need to crack her chest and see what’s really going on in there. I’m gonna set up a thoracotomy tray.” Sarah explained to Nurse Heather. Nurse Heather’s eyes went wide once she heard the word “thoracotomy.” That was a last ditch effort, hail Mary procedure used in the most critical patients. Heather has seen many patients get their chest cracked during her time as a nurse in our ER, but the idea of a friend, coworker, and familiar face being the recipient of such a procedure really bothered Heather at a deeper level.

Betadine was splashed across the left half of Lindsay’s chest. The strong, chemical scent of antiseptic hit everyone’s nostrils in less than a second. Sarah picked up the scalpel, making a crude, but decisive incision. The cut started just to the left of Lindsay’s sternum, extended laterally across her chest, underneath her left nipple, and concluding just shy of her left armpit. Heather halted CPR while Sarah worked to separate the underlying tissue and muscle to make way for the rib spreader. With an adequate space created, the metal rib retractor was placed, and Lindsay’s chest was forcefully pried open. A loud popping and cracking sound echoed around the room while Sarah turned the knobs on the spreader. Upon entry to Lindsay’s chest cavity, there was a massive rush of blood. “Suction! SUCTION!” Shouted Sarah, packing handfuls of surgical sponges into the fresh incision area. Heather lowered a suction tube into Lindsay’s chest cavity and began removing the excess blood to create a good line of sight for Sarah. The suction tube made a wet slurping sound as it removed the blood. Meanwhile, Sarah incised the fibrous lining of the pericardium to relieve the tamponade and placed a vascular clamp on the descending aorta in order to redirect blood flow and quell any arterial bleeding- at least temporarily. Heather continued to apply suction every few seconds or so, the line of sight clogging up with blood like clockwork. “Starting cardiac massage.” Announced Sarah, reaching into Lindsay’s chest, beginning to vigorously massage away at Lindsay’s strong, athletic heart. Sarah’s gloved hands were wrapped firmly around the beautiful tomboy doctor’s heart, squeezing much needed blood to the rest of her body. A wet, rhythmic squishing sound was produced from Dr Sarah’s internal resus efforts. “Come on… come on Linds…” uttered Sarah under her breath.

Sarah squeezed and squeezed, but her multiple cycles of cardiac massage failed to restart Dr Lindsay’s heart. Next up, the team opted to give the internal paddles a try. The internal paddles were charged to 20 joules and lowered into Lindsay’s chest around her erratically twitching heart. THWACK! Lindsay’s heart tensed up for a second before going right back to v-fib. Sarah sighed. “No change, going again at 30. Everyone… CLEAR!” Sarah shocked again. Lindsay’s torso jolted sharply in response to the shock, but v-fib remained. “Hitting her again at 40!..... CLEAR!” Sarah’s voice surged. “Mmm….” Lindsay moaned in reaction to the shock. “she’s still in v-fib, let’s go again…. CLEAR!” Sarah yelled out passionately. A dull, wet thump was heard, however, Lindsay’s heart still couldn’t be shocked out of v-fib. “AGAIN!... CLEAR!” Yelled Sarah, lowering the blood soaked internal paddles back onto Lindsay’s cracked open chest. “Still nothing. Recharging the internal paddles to 40!” Sarah announced, her tone of voice growing more and panicked. The high pitched, electrical whirring sound of the paddles recharging bounced around the room. “Ok…. CLEAR!” Sarah defibbed Lindsay again. Almost instantly after the shock, the heart monitors flatlined. Lindsay’s heart sat completely motionless in plain sight. Dr Sarah removed the large, spoon shaped paddles and gently set them back on the crash cart. Sarah began removing her gloves and eyeing the clock on the wall. “It’s over. Time of death, 19:35.” Sarah called out, abruptly terminating the code.

The trio of caretakers stood there shell shocked for a moment while the high pitched hum of the flatlined monitors droned around the room. Nancy removed the ambu bag, a small amount of air quietly hissing out. Heather switched off the monitors, making the once loud, chaotic room eerily silent. Nobody said a word, but knew exactly what to do next. The IV lines were taken out of each arm. The EKG electrodes were disconnected. The BP cuff was taken off Lindsay’s left bicep. The pulse oximeter was taken off her left index finger. A blue surgical drape was hastily tossed on top of the thoracotomy site. Lindsay’s eyes remained wide open as her body was covered, appearing as if she watched the sheet get pulled over her head. Last but not least, a toe tag was filled out and placed on the big toe of Lindsay’s left foot. The tag dangled in front of Lindsay’s hot, wrinkly soles, serving as a harsh reminder that no Christmas miracles would be taking place that night. In this alternate reality, Lindsay was now the latest beauty who found herself toe tagged and under a sheet in our emergency department.

[phoenixblaze1412]

Can you make dottore find a test subject reader and do crazy experiments on her by using I love you excuse

Thank you

I did my best with this one, I hope you like it anon!

You knew he was different, you knew he was crazy, everyone tried to warn you, tried to pull you away from him.

But the way he treated you, so gentle and so loving, it made you want to stay.

Him whispering sweet words into your ears easily makes your heart melt, you didn't even notice how he stuck a needle into your arm to draw your blood.

You would always wonder why he keeps injecting you with different liquids.

But all your worries are gone the moment he would say it's all for your safety, all for your health. He made it clear that what he's doing what for the both of your benefits. He didn't say how it benefitted him though, he was quick to give you a kiss to your cheek whenever you ask such a question.

You're always seen strapped down on a chair, the chains tied to your wrists and ankles were there to keep you in place.

Sometimes you would receive visits from the eleventh harbinger. He would always ask why you choose to stay, giving you an opportunity that he will set you free and help you run away from the doctor.

You refuse. Why should you leave? You love the doctor, he has your heart.

On a table not too far away where a jar was placed, there inside was your still beating heart. The doctor said he would take care of your heart. So you let him have it. To show how much you love him

----------

You awoke to the feeling of a gloved hand caressing your cheek. Letting out a soft sigh, you glanced up to see the masked face of the doctor smiling down at you.

"It is glad to see you awake, my dear. I'm just about almost done with our experiment."

You slowly nodded in response, feeling him grab hold of your chin and tilting your head up to look at him.

"How fascinating.. even at this state, your eyes still have a shine in them. They'll be mine soon."

His laughter echoed across the room as he let go of you, walking off to grab a syringe filled with light blue liquid.

"Will I finally be cured? To be able to walk around once more and spend the rest of my life with you?"

You kept your gaze at him, wondering what his answer will be to your question. Hoping you're finally up to his standards to be with him for eternity. Your limbs weakly moving in your chair to get into a more comfortable position, causing the chair to let out an eery creak.

"Yes. After this, you will be mine forever. Just like how you wanted."

You smiled weakly, happy to hear his answer as you leaned back into the chair. Glancing back down to yourself to see your chest cavity wide open, your ribcage teared open with wires stuck inside your own body. You frowned, trying to remember when did you end up in such a state. You moved your gaze to your limbs, noticing almost half of your fingers are missing. Cleanly sliced off to be exact. Your lower legs were also amputated, no longer allowing you to run or walk away from this madness. But the doctor said it had to be done due to the 'sickness' infecting your legs and making you paralyzed.

'Who would need their legs to walk when they cannot walk to begin with?' Is what the doctor told you.

"Come now, pet. Just one more shot and you're mine."

The doctor stood beside you, lifting up your sleeve and injecting you with the liquid contents in the syringe. You slowly turned your head to face him, giving him a small happy smile. Letting out a hum as you felt his hand rub your head, the gesture slowly lulling you to sleep.

"Doctor.. I love you."

"As do I, my dear."

The last thing you remembered before you fell unconscious was the feeling of his lips pressing against your lips along with his laughter echoing in his laboratory.

----------

"How is your patient, comrade? I hope they are doing well under your care?"

The eleventh harbinger tilted his head and giving his colleague a smile. The doctor returned the smile with his signature grin.

"Ah, yes. They are with me now. Just as we promised together, they will be with me for eternity. Would you like to see them?"

The doctor held out his gloved hand towards the harbinger and opening his palm to reveal you. Tartaglia felt his breath hitch as he stared at what remained of you; your eyeball.

"I always like looking at their eyes, how they shine under the light. And they're finally mine."

[stxrrwritess]

who you belong to.

( art not mine )

monty gator x reader smut

MINORS DNI !!

warnings : afab!reader, jealous sex, rough sex, slight degradation ( use of whore, slut ), size difference (?), oral ( fem receiving ), poorly written smut LOL

word count : 807

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

As the mechanic, your job basically consisted of being friendly with all of the glamrocks. You’d figured it was easier to get to know them rather than just barge in and start working on their wires. Over time, you’d developed an .. interesting relationship with none other than Montgomery Gator, the most aggressive of the four animatronics. On this particular day, you had to tend to Freddy a little more than the others, mainly because of a glitch he had during a performance which resulted in a freak out of the children and quite a few adults.

After you had finished up in Freddy’s green room, you said goodbye and left, only to find Monty leaning on the wall, arms crossed and a not-so pleasant expression on his face. “Oh, hey Monty. You okay? Vanessa told me you didn’t need a check up today so I-,” before you could finish, you were yanked rather harshly by the forearm towards the Gator’s green room. “H-Hey! Monty, what’s going on?” You asked, skeptical on why he was acting so strange. You two had been fucking, sure. But you’d never have thought he’d be so annoyed that you were just doing your job. “Shut it, whore.” He grumbled under his breath, opening the door to his room and throwing you onto his mangled up couch. “Too fuckin’ busy to come in an’ even say ‘hello’? Too caught up with Fazbear?” He asked, as he moved to rip your work shirt off, causing your tits to pop out. “No, Monty, He had a glitch today. You saw it.” You protested, but you couldn’t deny that seeing this jealous side of him was.. oddly hot.

“I’m gonna remind ya who ya belong to.” He spoke, discarding of your pants and your panties, revealing your wet snatch to him. His large hands traveled over your body, stopping to grope your boobs and a small whine escaped your lips. After a few moments, he stopped and pried your legs open. Leaning down, he ran a wet stripe up your heat, eliciting a low moan from you. He teased your clit, before you hit his forearm that was holding your thigh gently. “Stop teasing, Montgomery!” You complained, before he finally stuck his strangely long tongue into you, eating you out like he hadn’t eaten in days. You threw your head back in ecstasy, your hand gripping his red mohawk. “M-Monty, Fuck-“ You gasped as soft moans and whines emitted from you. When he sensed you were getting close to the edge, he pulled away. You opened your mouth to give out to him, but he interrupted you. “You ain’t cummin’ unless it’s on my fuckin’ cock.” He growled, picking you up harshly and moving to his vanity, bending you over, your tits flush against the table. You glanced up at yourself, your forehead was glistened with sweat and your cheeks flushed.

Monty wasted no time in discarding his pants, as he pushed the tip of his dick past your gummy walls. No matter how many times you two fucked, his size always surprised you. “T-Too big..” You murmured under your breath, looking up at him in the mirror with pleading eyes. “Take it, slut.” He grunted and with one sharp thrust, he bottomed out in you. Your eyes rolled back into your head as you inhaled sharply, feeling his dick fill you up so nicely. He didn’t give you any time to adjust, as he started thrusting into you at an inhuman pace, yanking your hair back to make you look at yourself in the mirror. “Tell me, who’s fuckin’ ya? Who’s makin’ ya feel this good, huh?” He gave a rougher thrust at the end of his sentence to emphasize his point. “Y-You, you are, fuck!” You rasped, “I got a name, use it. Tell me who ya belong to.” He groaned, feeling you clench around him like a vice. “Monty, you, please just - don’t fucking stop!” You begged, your hands gripping onto his vanity as you felt your knees begin to buckle. “Hnngh- I’m, fuck, Y/N. I’m gettin’ close..” He removed his hand from your hair and placed both of his hands on your hips, holding onto them with bruising force. It didn’t take long for you to cum around him, considering he had edged you before this. Your orgasm hit you like a wave, your vision going blurry for a few seconds. Monty followed a few moments later, painting your insides white with a grunt. He pulled out, and moved to scoop you up into his arms as he sat on the couch. “Uh.. Shit. Sorry if I went too hard on ya.. It’s jus’, ya know how I get ‘bout Fazbear.” He chuckled sheepishly, and you rolled your eyes playfully.

You should get him jealous more often, if this is the outcome.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

a/n

hope you enjoyed x3 honestly idk how to write smut that well, i just let my hands do the typing while i zone out for a solid 20 minutes. if there’s anything i can improve on do let me know ! ( i’m def super repetitive in the way that i write but oh well )

[superstarz9]

So y’all fw Mr. Puzzles hcs?

Cause I got some :]

So canonically, based off the emerging movements he makes going from tv mode to ‘normal’ mode and the appearance of his arms/legs, there isn’t much of Puzzles that’s human anymore. The closest things he may have left is his heart and lungs (since he smokes, but that’s also a stretch).

While I prefer the idea thar he smokes, I like to think that he only holds the cigarette and pretends to smoke with a small smoke machine in the back, since the cig isn’t actually lit in the scene (not on purpose, of course).

As a kid, he was inspired to smoke from the old cigarette ads in cartoons (like the Flintstones Winston commercial).

He loves cooking shows and remaking the recipes, but he can’t eat. For a relationship hc (platonic or romantic), he’d probably love making food for you and get feedback on his cooking (eg, more spices, cook more/less, different recommendations). And compliments, of course. Always gotta compliment the chef, after all.

Body-wise (and this one might be kinda gross cause of minor body horror so skip if not comfortable), since we’ve established that there isn’t anything organic anymore about his body, he probably looks like a wire version of muscle anatomy. He’s very self-conscious about this, and tries to hide it the best of his abilities (long clothes, wrapping his arms to keep his shirt in place, the gloves). To add, his brain is probably a unique motherboard with wires surrounding it like a brain.

He sees and hears through the antennas, and makes sure to keep then aligned as much as possible. If one of them is slightly bent out of their usual shape, things look and sound very broken, like your vision going in and out. To add, the top dial changes the channel from his expressions to a specific show, and the lower dial adjusts his volume.

Technically canon but he has heterochromia! His right eye is dark brownish and his left is light blue. (He has homophobia in his eyes 😔 /j /ref)

We already know he stims lets bffr.

My friend’s hc: His angry/scary/humanoid face is parts of his original face, as well as the face that glitches during the movie’s end (I stg I know where that face is from. I wanna say Jack Stauber but I know it’s some kind of claymation. Speaking of Jack Stauber, Mr. Puzzles kinda gives Mirror Man vibes, y’know?).

Since he’s not as human anymore, he doesn’t get sick normally. However, he can get versions of illnesses through similar methods. He can overheat and power off on hot days, and he’s probably not great in rain. His signal also jams when it rains, so he’d constantly be bumping into stuff and wouldn’t be able to control the channels properly (I say control the channels cause idk what else to call it but that thing he does in the movie where he runs all the channels in his head and stuff. His head’s still a fully functional tv after all). If he’s shocked with lighting or smth, he’ll lose his signal, which is his equivalent of going into a coma.

Speaking of rain, he’ll try his best to be on top of the weather and carry an umbrella. However, if he doesn’t have actors for the weather channel and is preoccupied with other projects, he’ll be stuck at the studio waiting out the storm. Relationship hcs for this can be rlly funny. You’d catch him all bitter about the sudden rain as he stands by the door waiting for a cab or smth. If you pull out an umbrella, he’s turn into an absolute drama queen. “Oh, it’s such a TRAVESTY! This HORRIBLE rain just WON’T lighten up! Oh, if only there was someone so kind and caring who’d share their umbrella with me!” You could a) not share the umbrella and receive an even more bitter Puzzles, b) insist on holding the umbrella and have him walk with you awkwardly, or c) give him the umbrella but he holds it so high that you still get wet.

Despite his hatred for the rain, it’s one of the few things he can still enjoy about his humanity. Being a bunch of wires and other tech, he can’t feel anything, just being numb, minus a light electrical pulse, similar to a heart beat. He can’t feel specific textures but can grab and roughly identify objects. However, he can feel the rain and how different it is from other things, and it reconnects him with the real world. For any Steven Universe fans, it’s like Peridot stepping out into the rain for the first time, but more somber.

If he’s out in the rain one day, he’s sick the next. When he sneezes, his screen goes static-y for the moment.

When he sleeps, he has a black screen with the small “sleep mode” pop-up in the corner. He’s also a very light sleeper.

When he zones out, it’s the Puzzlevision logo bouncing across the screen as a screen-saver.

Aight that’s all I got right now. If this does well I’ll post some more!

[featherandferns]

teaser for my upcoming fic: sugar

feel free to ask me questions about it!!! we're all in mourning so here's some fluff non-canon season 4 jj x reader

content warnings: dr*g use; mentions of s*xual themes

“JJ, I mean it,” you say, your tone losing its humour now. You shoot him a look that you hope will put a pin in it. “We should talk about something else.”

“Alright, alright,” JJ surrenders, holding his hands up and all. He relaxes back against the plastic seat of the boat and you do the same. Your legs outstretch so you can rest your feet on the spot beside him. The two of you catch each other’s gaze and look away, chuckling bashfully like preteens. You take another hit of the joint and watch the smoke fizzle away into the night. “How’d you meet Mark, then?”

You glance at JJ. “A few months back. He’d just moved to Kildare and came by to The Stirring Spoon to help out, and we sort of hit it off.”

“He seems like a nice guy.”

“He is,” you smile. But it fades. The weed tickles at your emotions, pulling the wires as if to wreak havoc. JJ seems to take advantage. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you lie. You take another hit and shake your head, plastering on a smile. “It’s nothing.”

Sighing, JJ folds his arms comfortably over his chest. “Y’know, just cause I know what you look like naked don’t mean we can’t be friends now.”

Barking out a laugh, you shake your head. “There was definitely a better way you could have put that.”

“Probably,” he shrugs, grinning, “but it’s true, ain’t it? We can be friends.”

“Of course we can. We are,” you emphasise. 

“So…That means that if you wanna vent about Mr Loverboy to me, you can,” JJ offers. 

Laughing, you rock your head back and gaze up at the sky. The stars are out. They shimmer white and crystal in the abyss of the night. “That’d be too weird, I think, but I’ll keep it in mind, thanks.”

“I just got one question. Just one.”

“Go on,” you reluctantly reply. 

“Does he say ‘thank you’ after the two of you fuck?”

You burst into fits of laughter. It’s so sudden that it has you doubling over. Tears slip from your eyes and you wipe them away, looking at a grinning JJ. God, you missed him and his twisted sense of humour. 

“He just looks like the kinda guy who would!”

“Oh my God, no!” you laugh, shaking your head. Catching your breath, you manage out, “no, he doesn’t say ‘thank you’.”

“Is he the sub then? Cause there is no way that guy is laying his hands on you without written permission.”

“JJ stop! I’m gonna pee myself!” you cackle, kicking your feet. JJ starts laughing too. You open your eyes and make out his face in the lowlight of the pier’s lamp. Wheezing, you catch your breath and calm yourself. “This is exactly what I was talking about.”

“I can give the guy pointers if he needs them,” JJ jokes. Your eyes nearly fall out of their sockets just at the idea though and you point at him in another warning. 

“Don’t you dare!” you say, trying not to crack up again. “‘Sides, he doesn’t need pointers.”

“Everybody needs pointers,” JJ says with a roll of his eyes. “John B gave me one of the best pointers.”

“I find that impossible to believe,” you snort. 

“He did! It was a tip for kissing. Works like a fucking charm too, I’m telling ya.”

“Mhm, I’ll bet,” you sarcastically return. You glance at the joint to check if it needs tapping off, take another drag, and then look up to find JJ watching you. He hasn’t changed enough for you to forget what that expression means. 

“You want me to show you?”

“Show me? How?” you say with furrowed brows. Something in the air shifts with your question. An unspoken thing, an unseeable thing, but something nonetheless. A nervous tickle comes to your throat. 

JJ doesn’t reply but he slowly leans over the seat towards you. Your breath catches in your lungs the moment he enters your bubble, breaking some unspoken barrier, and your smile fades away like day into night. You feel as though you’re stuck in place, plastered to the seat, and you’re ashamed to admit that you don’t hate that you are. You’re ashamed that you’re not pushing him away, telling him to buzz off, laughing at his idiocy. You’re ashamed that you’re curious as to what he’s going to do next. 

JJ’s close enough now that you can smell him. His cologne mixed with something sweet but tangy, like seasalt and citrus. Something masculine underneath, that has a primal instinct inside of you wanting to claw its way out. Your fingers grip the edge of the seat instead. Your eyes stare into his. You study the laps of green and grey in the sea of blue, mesmerised in the way the night sky reflects in the iris. His gaze darts down to your lips and you have no idea how this happened and how you got here, and everything is blurry but so, so clear from the cannabis as he leans forward, and you can’t move but you should move and you want to move but you don’t, you never want to move again, as his lips brush against yours just so, just enough for you to know that they have, that he has, that he’s real, but that he hasn’t, and that you can take it all back, and that it doesn’t count and it shouldn’t and you shouldn’t but–

[likablemuffin]

Flustered Donnie? Flustered Donnie.

(From: Random ROTTMNT oneshots, requested story)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/n was casually chilling in their room scrolling aimlessly on TikTok, when they got a text message from Raph.

Interesting. Raph didn't usually text them. They click on the text message.

PIZZAPIGEON: hey Y/n I need you to come and get donnie out of his lab hes been in it for like 3 days

N/n: what

PIZZAPIGEON: yea so could you come pls? He wont listen to any of us.

N/n: aight on my way

Y/n turns off their phone and puts it down so they can get ready. Once they finish, they grab up their phone again and head out the door, ready to beat some sense into this adorable purple nerd.

When they enter the lair, there doesn't seem to be anything out of the ordinary. 

Leo is playing on his phone, Mikey is drawing, and Raph...oh. Well, Raph is the only one who's not normal.

He's pacing around, looking worried, while continually glancing at his phone. When he notices Y/n entering, he instantly breathes a sigh of relief and walks up to them. "Oh, Y/n thank goodness you're here! Donnie has been in his lab for ages, and none of us can get him out!"

Y/n looks up to Donnie's lab and then back to a worried Raph. "Alright. I go get him big guy, don't you worry." Raph breathes a sigh of relief as Y/n rolls up their sleeves and heads off to Donnie's lab.

When Y/n enters Donnie's lab, they can tell Donnie hasn't been out in a while. It's super messy, with blankets lying everywhere, dirty hoodies, pieces of scrap metal, some wires... yeah and on top of all that, it smells...musty is the best way to describe it. (Dang, Donnie really needs some windows in here.)

Donnie doesn't even hear Y/n enter. He's too busy on his invention. Y/n's eye twitches as they entered into the lab pretty loud so that Donnie would hear them. So the only logical thing to do was to obviously...

Go back outside, close the door, slam it open, and claim that they are here to fucking END HIM.

So they did.

They quietly close the door and take a deep breath...and then- SLAM THE DOOR OPEN AS LOUD AS THEY POSSIBLY CAN, CAUSING DONNIE TO JUMP OUT OF HIS SEAT LIKE A CAT (Wait, that was so cute, what the-) AND SAY, "I AM HERE, BITCH."

Donnie scrambles to get off of the floor that he ultimately fell on and puts his headphones back on. "Jeez- Y/n what the heck!!" Y/n chuckles. "You have been stuck in here for FAR too long, and I have been requested to get you out and make you EAT SOMETHING." Donnie almost looks insulted. "I appreciate the idea Y/N, but I am far too busy right now to do anything of the sort."

Y/n snorts. "Like eating? What the heck do you mean?! You can't just not have time to eat! Come on, we're going to go get you something. 

Donnie struggles to get off of the floor, which only helps to prove Y/n's point that he needs to eat something. He can barely stand for crying out loud. "My dearest Y/n I would rather not eat as of right now. I will eat later." Y/n crosses their arms and rolls their eyes. "Oh yeah? And how is that going to turn out? You're going to forget."

Donnie rolls his eyes and uses his chair as a support. "No, I will not." Y/n squints their eyes at Donnie and then walks up to him. They stare right into his eyes. Donnie looks around. "Uhh...yes?" Y/n shrugs and, with surprising ease, picks up Donnie bridal style. Donnie was about to say something, but Y/n can tell that he was too flustered to get any words out.

Y/n huffs in triumph and carries him down the stairs and into the kitchen. Once they are there, Y/n puts Donnie on the counter and goes to grab him something to eat. Donnie still hasn't said anything and still seems to be comprehending what just happened.

Eventually, Y/n grabs some water and an apple and hands them to Donnie. Donnie slowly takes them and stares at them in his hands. Y/n squints their eyes at him, waiting for him to eat. Finally, Donnie takes a bite out of the apple, to which Y/n smiles and puts their hands on their hips. After Donnie finishes the apple, Y/n turns to leave.

"Welp. My work here is done. Don't forget to drink the water, or else I'll come back to haunt you." Donnie still doesn't say anything and just stares at Y/n and nods before going back to looking at the water in the cup he's holding. Y/n hums proudly and leaves.

A few minutes later, Leo pokes his head around the corner and says in a sing-song voice, "Ooooo, Dee's got a crushhh!!" 

Donnie's head instantly snaps up, and his face is showing a very nice rosy hue. "I do not!" Leo giggles from his spot behind the wall (coward). "Yes you dooo!" Donnie growls and quickly chugs the water before jumping off of the counter and rushing at Leo. "GET OVER HERE, YOU INSUFFERABLE BITCH!!" Leo squeaks in fright at Donnie charging at him and scurries out of the way just in time.

"I WILL END YOU!!" Leo screams as Donnie chases after him, and his screams can be heard throughout the whole lair. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[scoatneyhall]

WILD. Was anyone else aware that the Ted Lasso team has gone in and made post-production edits on season 3 episodes, sometime in the last year?

I've been rewatching the finale in advance of the one year anniversary of it airing, and straight off, I noticed that the points total on the graphic looked different to how I remembered it - a much closer race. It stuck out because I remembered being annoyed that they didn't celebrate the moment Richmond got confirmed for the Champions League, as the gap was big enough for it to have happened a while ago, offscreen. I still have a screencap from when the episode aired:

However, the current copy on Apple has an updated graphic, making the post-production graphic in line with the numbers on the actual physical whiteboard prop and the script mentioning the win streak. See here:

The corrected copy makes Richmond's points match the whiteboard, but it also puts the teams in 3rd to 5th place much closer to them points-total wise, meaning that now, in the current version of the episode, Richmond only qualified for the UCL in "Mom City," making it make more sense that the start of 3.12 is the first time it gets discussed. Would have been nice to mention that stake in the City match commentary during 3.11, but I genuinely am shocked that they went back in and edited the already-published episodes to clean up the post-production errors. For the record, here's the whiteboard as of 3.08: W10, D9, L6.

Just in case anyone cares, the order of those results was - 1 draw against Chelsea, 6 wins with Zava, 1 loss against West Ham, the rest of the draws and losses occurring between 3.05 and the loss against Arsenal in 3.07, and then the 4 wins mentioned at the start of 3.08. By the start of 3.12, it's mentioned they are on a 16 game win streak, so that's 22 wins overall, 9 draws, 6 losses, going into the final weekend, hence the updated graphic.

I like that they went in and fixed it - no idea when in the past 12 months that occured - but I also kind of can't believe they bothered? Then again, I can't believe the mistake was made in the first place, as they were so specific with details in the prior seasons, so maybe they couldn't live with it being wrong.

I know there were rumours about a ton of issues in terms of getting these episodes posted in time - right down to the wire, still fixing the edit on the airdate - and it's clear that these details were not checked and confirmed by the poor people in post who were not working off the show bible that lives in the writers heads. I don't blame them at all, I blame the people who got the edit to them late, but it did annoy me during the season a LOT. The maths wasn't mathing, and as we know this is a show that has been careful with dates and timelines and stuff like that.

Anyway! The point is, a) this post about my UCL qualification fantasies is now moot, and b) I went back and checked another post production error that had REALLY pissed me off, which was the dates of texts in Ted's phone in 3.04. Phone dates have always given us the timeline quite strictly before - it's how @belmottetower and I started the timeline in our primer, with Ted arriving in London on January 6, 2020 and then following the football seasons from there to place the season 3 finale in May 2022 - but in 3.04, all the cute texts we see to all the characters in his phone were badly misdated, placing the timeline further in the future. This caused arguments or misunderstandings, at the time about the actual timeline of the show, but it seems this was another detail the producers really wanted to fix and tighten up, as they've gone back and had it edited.

It's weird, because the texts Ted was actually going back to - the messages from Doctor Jacob - were dated correctly as late 2019, and there's even a little easter egg in the form of a US rideshare notification picking him up to go to the airport in America, on 5 January 2020. (Even the area code, 316, is apparently correct to Kansas.) That's all correct even in the original version of the episode, but somehow we then skip a year and place his most recent texts, as of 3.04, in late October 2022, when they should only be in late September or early October 2021. (I found this post on Reddit that screenshotted his phone at the time.) Examples:

I had to go back and check this, and sure enough, it's been edited to reflect the established timeline - they didn't just redate the year on each message, they also changed a bunch of the chats to be more recent - so rather than dates, his most recent chats with Henry, the Coaches, etc are from "Yesterday," then the first dated texts are in very late September 2021. This matches up pretty perfectly with where they are in a typical Premier League season - they REALLY cleaned it up. Further back, they do just switch the years on the dates, so he still got a picture from Sassy last Valentines Day, and his last one-on-one contact with Jamie is still set before the events of Wembley in 2.08 (FA Cup semi finals are in April, so a few weeks after the March 2021 date on Jamie's chat.)

My brain is itching because I swear there was a screen of Nate and Ted's text chat at some point too? With Ted reaching out about his new job, on a date that deeply did not work with the timeline? But maybe I imagined it. There's no record of Nate's number in his phone at all now, and the texts date back to before Nate left, so I guess in this version of events, Ted deleted Nate's number and message history.

Anyway, I'm aware that basically no one is going to care about this, but I suspect that the three people who will actually care will REALLY FUCKING CARE. Has anyone else noticed it? Does anyone know when it may have happened? Does anyone know what else might have been changed or fixed? I love details and I love the fact that there is no longer conflicting data about what football seasons the show is covering - it's mid 19/20 to the end of 21/22, end of story - but what a fucking mess the production of season 3 must have been, to end up at this point!

[katelynnwrites]

My Love (She Makes Me Feel Like Nobody Else) | Sydney Lohmann

warnings: smut with no plot so read at your own discretion

word count: 1613

summary: the way your girlfriend makes you feel is indescribable

a/n: thought of this at 6.30am and couldn't resist writing it...

‘Syd I don't know if I can.’ You softly plead.

The insides of your thighs are sticky, the sheets beneath you even more so.

You haveve lost count of how many orgasms your girlfriend has wrung out of you but as much as you want to, you genuinely don't think you have another in you.

It’s been hours of the blonde fucking you with her fingers and her tongue. She’d thrown a vibrator into the mix earlier too.

Now, Sydney sits up and gives you an eager kiss before drawing back to flick your clit, eliciting a sharp cry of her name from your lips.

Everything’s so sensitive, your entire pussy aching with the amount of pleasure the German woman has given you.

Your cunt is glistening and red, the midfielder running her pointer finger through your arousal appreciatively.

You groan at the friction.

‘Syd please. I can’t.’

‘You can. I’m sure of it.’ Sydney tells you.

There’s a few moments where you close your eyes in exhaustion and when you open them, the blonde is putting her strap on.

‘Sonnenschein.’ You whimper when you see the dildo she's chosen.

It’s bigger than the one you’re used to, only a little but bigger nonetheless.

‘Safe word baby. Use your safe word and I'll stop right away.’ Sydney promises.

You shake your head, widened eyes meeting your girlfriend’s hazel ones.

‘Okay.’

She climbs back on top of you, pushing your knees open and up.

The ache is considerable and setting in from the hours the blonde has spent holding them apart.

You don’t make a sound though, too focused on Syd as she lines up to enter you. She’s decided against using lube, the gathered slickness of your arousal being more than enough.

The midfielder pulls your knees further apart and presses in.

Your mouth falls open immediately.

It’s so much, filling you up and causing your pussy to squeeze frantically around it.

‘Sydney!’ You gasp.

The stretch is nearly overwhelming and there’s a delicate edge of pain bordering your pleasure. You aren’t sure if the pain is there because of how sore you are or how the toy is stretching you out but you can’t deny the way it makes you wetter.

Your girlfriend lets out a small breathy whimper as she sinks in fully, the strap pressing against her clit perfectly.

‘Doing so good for me.’ She praises and you whine.

Sydney begins to thrust and you moan at the way the toy drags inside you. It’s a beautiful kind of pleasure.

Your girlfriend shifts her grip onto the inside of your thighs, her nails creating little crescent shaped marks.

It’s a sweet addition to all the other marks she's left on your body, a number of hickeys already scattered on your neck and collarbones.

You are hers to mark. In any way she deems fit.

The blonde has created a familiar rhythm, her hips rocking in and out. The smooth action causes whimpers and moans to fall from your lips, your cunt practically pulsing.

It’s a lot.

The midfielder shifts to chase her own pleasure, pushing the toy as much into you as possible so that she can grind her clit against the base of the strap.

You cry out and Sydney swallows the noise up by slanting her mouth over yours.

Her chest is heaving and she moans at how fucked out you look.

With your hair stuck to the sides of your face and a light sheen of sweat clearly visible on your body, she’s deeply attracted to you.

‘You’re so pretty for me like this.’ She coos.

Your girlfriend reaches downwards, expertly finding your clit and pinching it.

You jerk, tears pricking your eyes at the sharp flare of pleasure mixed with hurt.

The way the dildo feels in you, it makes you so wired with fullness and pleasure.

Sydney pulls out so only the tip of the toy remains inside of you before she presses all the way back in, causing you to arch your back with the sheer sensation of it.

She repeats it over and over again, getting rougher each time and you cry out hoarsely.

Your fingers scramble for purchase in the sheets and you tremble weakly.

There’s so much coursing through your body and you're really trying but you can't.

You can't come because it is all too much.

Blindly, your hands reach for the Bayern Munich player’s waist and you try harder, hating to disappoint her. You squeeze around the toy, desperately sucking in a breath.

Your girlfriend continues rolling your swollen bud between her fingers, playing with your clit as her hips speed up.

It’s exactly when she presses her thumb against your puffy clit that you break.

‘Red!’

It’s too much. You’re so sore, the edge of pain that borders Sydney's thrusts growing the longer she goes on. Her touch on your clit increased your overstimulation to the point where you couldn’t keep up anymore.

‘I’m sorry. Red Syd…red.’ You choke out.

Tears are streaming down your face and you pitifully whimper as she pulls out of you.

No matter how gentle she had tried to be, it’d hurt.

‘I’m so sorry. I tried sonnenschein, I tried my best.’

You’re sobbing through your words, knees still shaking.

Sydney gets rid of her strap on, carelessly tossing it off the bed and scooping you into her arms.

‘You did beautiful. You’ve given me plenty already. It’s my fault for not noticing your limit sooner.’ The blonde soothes.

You cry messily into her and she smooths your hair away from your face lightly.

‘You have been so good. Been such a good girl for me.’

Slow, loving kisses are pressed against your forehead and eventually you manage to calm down. Your breathing evens out and you bury your face into her chest.

The midfielder praises, ‘There you go. Thank you for using your safe word earlier baby.’

‘Thank you for keeping your promise.’ You whisper and the look in your girlfriend’s eyes soften.

‘Always. Can I help you clean up?’

‘Please.’

It’s a quiet word but Sydney smiles, briefly touching her lips to the side of your head before she hurries off to the bathroom to get a small towel.

When she returns, she carefully parts your legs, rubbing them lightly to ease the ache.

You groan in relief and the German woman chuckles.

Her hands brush against the insides of your thighs and she grins at the hickeys and nail marks she sees there.

‘Admiring your handiwork?’ You tiredly tease.

‘Maybe a little.’ Syd laughs.

She wipes over them carefully and you shiver at the intensity of her adoration for you, clearly written all over her face.

Her touch is even more tender as she runs the dampened cloth through your folds.

But you whimper nonetheless.

‘Sensitive.’ You gasp.

Your girlfriend apologetically kisses your pussy in response and you shake.

‘Baby you’re still wet.’

‘I know…’

The juices on the insides of your thighs have dried into a sticky mess but your cunt is still glistening with fresh arousal.

You close your eyes for a long moment.

‘You can try again if you’d like.’

‘Try what?’

‘Making me come one more time.’

‘Really?’ Syd breathes.

The majority of the aftershocks have eased off already and while you are still trembling with arousal, it is nowhere near how overwhelmed you were before.

‘Yeah sonnenschein. Just…please be gentle.’

You think you’re silly for asking.

It’s obvious in the way the Bayern Munich player reverently moves your legs apart, handing you a pillow to rest your head against and pressing affectionate kisses from your knees to your ankles.

‘I love you.’ She murmurs as she settles herself between them.

‘I love you too Syd.’

The blonde winks at you as you push yourself up onto your elbows so that you can see her.

‘Lay back baby.’

So you do and your girlfriend hums. She carefully licks a small stripe up your pussy, tasting yourself on her tongue.

You whimper as she kitten licks around your swollen clit, taking care not to overstimulate you.

‘Sonnenschein.’ You breathily sigh.

Her hands hold your knees steady and she continues using her extensive knowledge of your body to build your climax.

She kisses your clit, wrapping her lips around the puffy bud for a brief moment, the pressure causing you to moan.

Your breathing grows uneven and shaky, Sydney taking pride in the way you moan her name, amid pleasured gasps.

She never once slips her tongue inside you, knowing that it would be too much for your already exhausted body.

It’s slow and special, the way the midfielder has committed to making you come in the most intimate of fashions.

Eventually, it pays off.

Syd guides your hand to her head, encouraging you to use her tongue for your own gratification.

You come with a soft cry of your girlfriend’s name, pressing her mouth against your cunt as you tilt your hips upwards.

‘Doing so good baby. You look so beautiful.’ The German woman whispers.

She cautiously works you through it, prolonging your high till you begin to whine.

‘Okay okay.’ She murmurs.

Your girlfriend gifts you one last devoted kiss on your pulsing pussy before pulling you into her side and letting you catch your breath.

‘Thank you sonnenschein.’

Melting into the blonde’s arms, you kiss her gratefully.

‘I love you.’

‘I love you too.’ Sydney answers easily.

You adore the feel of the midfielder’s bare skin against yours. It brings you a sense of comfort that is far and above anything else.

Being in Syd’s arms is home. You hope it will always be home.

German Translation:

sonnenschein - sunshine