#medical scrubs for men

[hirawatsuniforms]

Buy Online Reversible Unisex Medical Scrubs Half Sleeve Here

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[mollywog]

I wonder if Katniss ever thinks about her life if she’d been born after the rebellion and her father had worked at the medicine factory instead of the mines.

[oncall-london]

Your Trusted Hospital Scrubs Store – Quality Meets Comfort at Oncall London

Oncall London is your go-to hospital scrubs store, offering premium scrubs tailored for healthcare professionals who value style, durability, and comfort. Explore our diverse collection, which includes various sizes, colors, and designs to meet your needs. Featuring breathable fabrics and a modern fit, our scrubs provide all-day ease for demanding shifts. Shop now for exclusive deals, fast shipping, and exceptional customer service.

[medicalscrubguide]

Exploring the Versatility of Medical Scrubs: Your Ultimate Guide

In the bustling world of healthcare, professionals rely on more than just their expertise. They also count on their trusted attire to keep them comfortable and prepared throughout their demanding shifts.

Enter medical scrubs – the unsung heroes of the medical field. But what exactly are medical scrubs, and why are they so crucial? Let's dive in and unravel the wonders of this essential uniform.

Understanding Medical Scrubs

Medical scrubs, often referred to simply as "scrubs," are specialized garments worn by healthcare workers, including doctors, nurses, and other medical personnel. These garments are designed with functionality and hygiene in mind, providing a comfortable and practical outfit for long hours of duty.

The Evolution of Scrubs

Originally, medical scrubs were introduced as a form of sanitary clothing worn by surgeons in the operating room. They were made from simple materials like cotton and were primarily white to signify cleanliness. However, as healthcare practices evolved, so did the design and purpose of scrubs.

Modern Scrubs

Today, medical scrubs come in a variety of styles, colors, and fabrics, catering to the diverse needs and preferences of healthcare professionals. From traditional V-neck tops and drawstring pants to trendy scrub sets with stylish patterns, the options are endless.

Functionality and Comfort

One of the key features of medical scrubs is their functionality. They are equipped with multiple pockets for storing essential tools and accessories, such as stethoscopes, pens, and bandages. Additionally, the breathable fabrics used in scrub production ensure maximum comfort, even during the most hectic shifts.

Scrub Tops for Men and Women

When it comes to choosing the perfect scrub top, both men and women have a plethora of options to explore. For men, scrub tops are available in various cuts and sizes, ranging from classic fits to more tailored styles. On the other hand, women can choose from an array of designs, including mock wrap tops, empire waist tops, and even maternity scrubs for expectant mothers.

Choosing the Right Scrubs

Selecting the right scrub top is essential for both functionality and style. For men, options like scrub tops for men offer durability and comfort without compromising on style. Similarly, scrub tops for women provide a perfect blend of fashion and functionality, allowing female healthcare professionals to express their personal style while maintaining a professional appearance.

Conclusion In conclusion, medical scrubs are more than just uniforms – they are a symbol of professionalism, comfort, and practicality in the healthcare industry. Whether you're a seasoned healthcare veteran or a rookie in the field, investing in quality scrub tops is essential for a successful and comfortable work experience.

[protectu01]

Best Scrubs and Lab Coats for Men and Women

If you're looking for the best medical scrubs, lab coats, and medical uniforms for men and women, look no further. Our high-quality scrubs and lab coats are designed to provide comfort, durability, and functionality for healthcare professionals. Shop for all your medical suits at Protect U

[emilymcg23]

Most medical uniforms, including men's scrub trousers, are typically made from blends of cotton, polyester, spandex, and rayon. These materials provide a combination of comfort, durability, and moisture-wicking properties.

[knyamed]

Color Psychology in Men's Medical Scrubs

Color psychology plays a significant role in various aspects of our lives, including clothing choices. When it comes to men's medical scrubs, color can influence perceptions, emotions, and even patient interactions. Here's an overview of how different colors might be perceived in the context of men's medical scrubs:

1. Blue: Blue is often associated with calmness, trust, and professionalism. It's a popular color in medical settings because it can create a sense of tranquility and reliability. Lighter shades of blue might convey approachability, while darker shades can evoke a sense of authority.

2. Green: Green is linked to feelings of growth, healing, and harmony. It's also commonly associated with nature and tranquility. In a medical context, green can suggest a caring and nurturing attitude, making patients feel at ease.

3. White: White is often associated with purity, cleanliness, and sterility. It's a common color in healthcare settings due to its ability to convey a sense of professionalism and hygiene. However, an all-white outfit might be seen as clinical and distant, so combining it with other colors can help balance this perception.

4. Grey: Grey is a neutral color that can evoke feelings of balance and neutrality. It can be seen as professional and serious while also being less intimidating than black. Grey scrubs might be chosen for their understated and unobtrusive appearance.

5. Black: Black can convey authority, professionalism, and seriousness. However, it might also come across as somber or intimidating. Black can be paired with other colors to create a sophisticated look while preventing it from appearing too formal.

6. Red: Red is a bold and attention-grabbing color associated with energy, confidence, and strength. In a medical context, it could potentially symbolize urgency or a proactive approach. However, too much red might be overwhelming and intense.

7. Purple: Purple is often linked to creativity, spirituality, and luxury. It's less commonly used in medical scrubs, but it could potentially convey a unique and innovative approach to healthcare.

8. Yellow: Yellow is associated with positivity, warmth, and happiness. While it can be uplifting, too much yellow might be overly bright and distracting. It's important to strike a balance to avoid appearing too informal in a medical setting.

9. Orange: Orange combines the energy of red with the positivity of yellow. It can suggest friendliness, enthusiasm, and creativity. In a medical context, it might help create a welcoming atmosphere.

10. Brown: Brown is often associated with reliability, stability, and comfort. It can be seen as down-to-earth and approachable, which might help patients feel more at ease.

When choosing colors for men's medical scrubs, it's important to consider the balance between professionalism, comfort, and the desired emotional response.

[nuluxescrubs]

How to get the best scrubs for personal medical practice?   If you are a medical practitioner with your clinic, you need scrubs regularly. It is a good idea to buy medical apparel in bulk. You can save money on the purchase. Moreover, you can maintain health standards. It becomes easier to maintain common safety protocols at the clinic.

[kateally]

In the fast-paced and demanding healthcare industry, projecting a professional image is essential for healthcare professionals. One key element that contributes to your overall appearance and functionality is the medical scrub you wear. Nursing scrubs have evolved beyond their humble beginnings and now offer a plethora of options that cater to the needs and preferences of professionals.

[starsofang]

CALL OF THE SEA / PART SIX

pirate poly!141 x reader tw: NSFW, MDNI, not much for this chapter, but as always, be cautious! masterlist

When a group of unhinged pirates invade your small village, you're whisked away from your peaceful home and thrown on to a voyage out at sea. Forced to obtain a new role as their medic, you have no choice but to accept your fate as you join their forces and aid them in their treacherous travels.

Morning came, and when you woke, the Captain wasn’t by your side. Rather, the pair of shoes Soap had gifted you, left behind in the brig during the overwhelming visit from Price, laid neatly on his side of the bed. A note was placed on top, the telltale sign of Price’s handwriting written, one you recognized from the brief glimpse of his secretive map.

“Soap urged me to return these to you. Join us for breakfast when you wake.”

Tossing your legs over the side of the cot, you meticulously strapped the shoes to your feet one by one, tying them with careful hands. You couldn’t remember the last time you wore shoes, and the feeling was foreign.

Wiggling your toes for good measure, you found you had plenty of room. Taking a few steps around the room guaranteed they stayed. Soap had somehow observed your previously dirtied and battered feet and somehow sized them to his best knowledge.

They were perfect. You felt brand new.

New clothes and now new shoes. Bathed and scrubbed clean without a speck of dirt tainting your skin.

Perhaps you could give them a chance. At least, until you were able to get back on land again and say a silent farewell to all four of them. That was what you still wanted after all, right? Freedom, regardless of how kind they were trying to be.

Stepping out of Price’s quarters was that first taste of freedom you’d had in a while. Not a man to guard you like a dog, teeth bared if you tried to bite back. This time, it was peaceful.

The sea was calm with the waves lightly lapping against the sides of the boat. The scent of saltwater filled your nose and put all worries at ease. The sun was shining brightly above you, beating down with a lovely warmth that tickled your skin.

For a brief moment, it felt like you were home again. It was nothing like it, while mirroring it all at the same time. A bittersweet feeling it was, to feel a touch of serenity in a place so far from the place you knew.

You dared to think that this was somewhere you could rebuild a home with. In a way, this could be the freedom you’d been seeking. Far from entrapment on an island with no way out, with the feeling of sea legs on a boat that could take you to places you never knew existed.

You shut the thought down quickly. At the end of the day, the ones halting that dream were four rugged men who wouldn’t dare let you live out the fantasy long enough to cherish it. They were your captors. Not your friends.

It was fairly easy to figure out where their dining hall was. The boat was large, but the sounds of burly laughter and banter billowing through the breeze was unmistakable and it led you right to where you needed to be.

Your initial walk in wasn’t acknowledged. Not because they were ignoring you, but because they were far too occupied to realize. And by they, you really meant Soap and Gaz.

The two were bickering puppies. Mouths full of food, like ill-mannered children, spewing complete nonsense.

The first to notice you was Ghost. His gaze was chilling, eyes locked on you. While being uninterested and almost bored, there was also that glint of annoyance that came from your mere presence.

That alone was your subtle reminder that these men weren’t your friends. Your reality was not so lucky, and a few spouts of kindness given from the other three weren’t enough to warrant any comfort on your end. You were still in an unfair situation, one that you simply had to grow used to for the time being.

Ghost was a force, though. Just from his stare, you could feel the foreboding threat that lingered deep within. The mask he wore certainly didn’t help. In fact, it made him almost inhuman, like he was a vessel for something far more dangerous.

Eyes were the window to the soul, yet all you saw was an empty void.

Ghost’s shift in attitude seemed to transfer to the others. Next thing you knew, all eyes were on you, peering at you like a pack of wolves when an enemy entered their turf.

You felt severely underdressed. You weren’t much of a sight in your old rags, but now, clad in Price’s sheer clothes that ended near the knee with Soap’s new shoes clinging to your feet, you felt a sense of embarrassment.

The men were dressed appropriately, white shirts with billowy sleeves down to their wrists, heavy coats with a dizzying amount of buttons undone that fell to their knees, as well as classic breeches and thick boots. The colors were bland, yet the jewels they displayed were beyond comprehension.

You hadn’t taken much notice before of the extravagant gems.

Soap adorned that of sapphire, dangling from his neck and worn along his fingers. The blue glinted in the dim sunlight that peeked through the windows of the dining hall, shining brightly.

Gaz wore ruby, the deep red jewels clashing with his clothes and skin near perfectly. It accented the warm tone of his eyes that stared back at you, swirling with uncertainty yet a hint of curiosity.

Price preferred pearls, and it made complete sense. He was Captain, and pearls were the heart of the ocean. The waters were his home, and he held a piece of it wherever he went.

Ghost’s jewelry was the one who mirrored him completely. Black onyx, glistening on nearly every finger, paired with silver bands that held the precious jewels. The only difference was the single skull ring that stuck to his ring finger, staring back at you tauntingly.

You felt like a parasite in comparison. Jewels were something you could only dream of.

“Hungry, dove?” Gaz broke you out of your trance, raising his eyebrows at you. His tone was soft, holding no previous resentment. The man was a mystery, picking and choosing when to butt heads with you or express his displeasure. Yet not, it seemed that had all begun to melt.

“Quite,” you murmured in response, shifting uncomfortably from where you stood. You made no effort to sit next to them, deeming yourself unfit and unwelcome.

Gaz stood in an instant, leaving the table and fluttering to the kitchen. Your eyes followed, watching the swinging doors sway behind him as he disappeared.

“Sit,” Price gruffed, nodding his head to an empty seat across. You stared for a moment, unsure, before hesitantly taking the seat next to Soap.

Soap had said nothing yet, but his eyes never left you — or more specifically, your feet. The shoes, the one he’d specifically sought out for you that fit perfectly on your feet. They were a nice gift, despite the events that transpired after.

“They fit,” Soap stated, finally looking up at you when you sat. You gave him a brief nod, eyes peering down at the table. “Do ye like ‘em?”

You shifted your toes in the shoes, wiggling them around in the bit of space left. They felt comfortable and they’d protected your feet from the splintered wood of the ship when you made your way to the dining hall.

“I do,” you confessed quietly.

You felt strange. You felt almost shy, as if nervous to disappoint Soap.

His face broke out in a boyish smile, seemingly pleased with both himself and your answer. “I’m glad,” he sighed in relief, returning to his meal.

Price and Ghost remained quiet, though Ghost continued to stare. It was harder than before. Now, it felt more like a glare. You could practically feel the intensity of it toying with you.

You risked a glance at him, which only worsened the hit. In an instant, his eyes narrowed, a growing fire burning fiercely. It caused you to feel unsettled, and you wondered what you had done to make him agitated.

Sure, he wasn’t nice before. He was an angry brute from the very beginning. But it had never been this… personal.

The table shook when Soap knocked Ghost’s shin under the table. Ghost’s head whipped over to switch his glare to Soap, who only gave him a warning look in return. Price, seeming bored and rather used to the banter, simply sipped at the drink in his cup.

“Don’t mind him,” Soap dismissed sheepishly. “He’s just…”

“Jealous?” Gaz mused from behind you, and when you turned to look, he was holding a plate of hot food. He placed it in front of you before taking a seat on the other side of you.

Ghost let out what sounded like a scoff, muffled under his mask. He stood from the table, the force of him shaking it once more, before he set off to the upper deck without a spared glance.

Jealous? That was a strange way of describing what you witnessed. What Ghost held seemed far from jealousy, and resonated more with hatred.

“Jealous is a nice word,” Soap hummed, stabbing his food with his fork and popping it into his mouth.

“Why would he be jealous?” you asked hesitantly. “Are you…?”

“Aye, that’s complicated territory yer gettin’ into, dove.” Soap gave you a grin, full of food. You grimaced, resorting to your own food.

The three men fell into simple conversation while you remained the outsider. It was how it had been up until this point, something you were growing used to. After all, you were still a prisoner, even if you had a shed of freedom now, and you were still supposed to resent them.

“Awfully quiet today, dove,” Price said. His tone held no mockery. “You had quite a lot to say last night.”

Images of last night flashed through your mind, the ones where the two of you came to an agreement of getting along. No bad blood, as he said.

Quite a bit had happened last night. So quickly, too. One moment you were in the cell, awaiting a punishment for a failed attempt at fleeing their crew, then the next you were bathed and asleep in Price’s bed. Now, as the morning came, you were offered a meal rather than more unkindness.

You wondered if it was all a test. You had even snooped through the map laid out on Price’s desk, memorizing the poem scribbled on scratch paper. It seemed all meticulously planned, and you prayed it wouldn’t be your downfall.

“I have nothing to offer to the conversation, Captain,” you replied meekly. “I am quite bland.”

“I don’t think that’s quite right,” Price mused. “You were rather witty last night with your jest.”

“A jest?” Soap piped in, curious. “Ye got her to joke with ye, Captain?”

“Aye.” Price nodded. He crossed his arms, leaning back on his chair. “She’s a part of the crew now, after all. Isn’t that right, Soap?”

There was unspoken conversation between the two men. Gaz seemed just as lost as you, before something dawned on him. You remained clueless, separated from a secret agreement.

“Aye,” Soap agreed with a nod. He seemed prideful of something, but that you weren’t sure of.

Had they spoken of things without you? Perhaps it was the reason Price let you off so easily. Where you were expecting to be lashed out upon, angry words of your stupidity spewed your way, you had gotten a softer side of Price. An understanding one.

You sat dumbly, confusion evident on your face. Your mind swirled with every possibility of what they could mean, but nothing useful popped up.

You felt like a fool. You were a pawn in a game, and this you knew from the beginning. It had everything to do with your capture and the hidden reason as to why.

The one who heals the ill and poor

shall be the cure to all demise.

The answer was right in front of you, yet it felt impossible to grasp.

“You will stay with Soap and Gaz tonight,” Price said. You were zoning out quite a lot today. “I have business I must attend to in my quarters.”

You blinked at the Captain, turning your head to Gaz. You couldn’t fathom Soap having an issue with the arrangement, but Gaz was a unique case. You weren’t friendly, nor were you enemies.

Ever since throwing your food on him nearing the first nights, there was an awkwardness, but it certainly wasn’t bitter. It simply felt like two people who had gotten off on the wrong foot.

Gaz stared back at you before turning away. You weren’t sure how he felt about you staying in his quarters. He didn’t make it obvious.

You just hoped it wasn’t as awkward as it was right now.

Gaz and Soap came to collect you when the night began to fall. Price had let you bathe once more before sending you off, where the two men stood waiting for you outside.

“Hello, dove,” Soap greeted warmly. He seemed bashful that you were staying with him.

He was a strange one, for sure. He was also the most welcoming from the jump.

You didn’t let it fool you, though. You’d seen a side of him when you ran from him during your time on shore, and you knew he had a personality that made him the feared pirate he was, just as the rest of them.

Gaz offered you a nod in greeting, and you gave one back.

The two guided you across the deck and to the other side of the ship. It was quiet between you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable or strange. What was strange was sharing a bed with two grown men.

“Come in,” Gaz said quietly, opening the door to their quarters and allowing you in first. It was gentlemen-like, which was unforeseeable coming from his background, but you took it with grace.

The quarters were much more cluttered than Price’s, and you safely assumed it was from Soap. Gaz didn’t seem the messy type, though you could be terribly wrong.

“Sit,” Soap ordered, grabbing you by the shoulders and plopping you down on the edge of the bed. You watched as he shuffled into a small closet, your ears picking up on ruffling fabric.

Gaz stood silently, deep in thought. You didn’t bother to ask.

“Here ye go, dove,” Soap offered, returning with new clothes.

Would this be a pattern?

“Will I be using all of your clothes?” you asked, taking the folded shirt and placing it in your lap.

“We will get you new ones soon,” Gaz replied. “Once you don’t wish to flee again.”

Soap snickered, finding it amusing while you mulled in your own humiliation. At least they were being humorous rather than crude.

“Understood,” you grumbled with a small huff, standing with the shirt in hand. The room stood still while the three of you stared, shifting between each other. “I’d like to change now.”

Soap’s mouth gaped, before he sputtered out an apology. Gaz scruffed him by the collar, dragging him out of the room, leaving you alone.

Your thoughts wandered as you changed into your fresh shirt. While you would’ve worn Price’s shirt some more, used to the old rags you collected grime in in the beginning of your capture, being offered new clothing for a second time was nice. It was kind.

You didn’t like to admit it, but despite weeping bloodshed and performing heinous acts upon the innocent lives of those on islands, such as your own people, they really were just… boys.

Boys with a sense of wonder, a sense of joy that was smothered by their titles.

They were still guiding through the world in their short lives, learning how to live as people. Just as any other. It was their first time living, too, even if their actions could be cruel at best.

When you stepped out of the room to let them know you were finished, you only found Gaz,

leaned up against the wall. He spared you a quick glance upon seeing you, offering you another nod like before.

“That certainly fits better than Captain’s,” he murmured, acknowledging the shirt that didn’t quite reach your knees anymore.

“Yes, it will do,” you replied quietly. Your hands fumbled in front of you, that familiar awkwardness filling the air.

With Soap, it was easy. With Price, it was witty. Ghost was an entirely other story.

But Gaz? Why did it have to feel so strange? Like a lingering cloud of tension?

“I am grateful to the Captain for allowing me a chance of redemption after I… fled,” you continued.

The sparkling of stars shone brightly above the two of you, and you made your focus on admiring them rather than on Gaz.

“I don’t know how he did it, but Soap convinced him of your worth in all of this.” Gaz joined you in staring up at the night sky, his fingers picking at the loose string of his shirt where it remained untied by the collar. “We fucked up your life, after all. That’s on us.”

“Soap?” you asked, baffled. “What does he have to do with it? The Captain came to me willingly.”

Gaz turned to look at you, his head cocked in confusion. You mirrored him, eyebrows pulled taut.

“He spoke highly of you after you attempted to flee,” he explained carefully. “Price was angry with you. Soap was your voice of reasoning. Even got me on your side, too. I had my reservations at first for obvious reasons.”

Ah, so he was still bitter about the porridge you’d thrown at him.

You allowed his words to digest, letting them sink into your bones and simmer. All this time, you thought they thought of you in disgust. You were an inconvenience.

Except… you weren’t. They had their formed opinions on you, but you were clearly worth more than they let on. It was why you were spared, why you weren’t rotting away to flesh and bone in their brig.

All along, you thought they simply hated you, that they were unkind, mean pirates.

But just as you thought moments ago — they were boys deep inside. Human. Navigating through life without a compass or map.

“With time, things will begin to connect,” Gaz continued, voice softer. “We are not as cruel as you may think. There are far bigger fish out there, and they are much, much worse.”

You prayed that you would never have to face it, for as long as you remained on this ship.

[empresskylo]

➠𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈; 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓; 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓

ZOMBIE!SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY X AFAB!READER

SUMMARY | Simon is dead. And you were forced to leave him behind as the rise of the dead took over. When you volunteer to sneak back into base to grab med supplies, you don't expect to run into Simon—alive, but certainly not himself...

WARNINGS | dead dove do not eat! this is literally smut about zombie!ghost... so... beware i suppose. gore. dub-con?? afab!reader. wc 3k

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ lock me up! send me to jail!!! i can't believe I wrote this yes i can. This is how down bad i am for Ghost, I literally wrote smut about fucking him as a zombie... someone send the authorities, i need my internet taken away. (happy oct 1st btw)

𝐜𝐨𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

It had been less than two days since you lost Simon.

The image of him dying in the infirmary wing, bleeding out on the bed, was plastered behind your eyes. You saw it every waking moment and even dreamt of it during the night. You could still feel Soap’s hands squeezing your arms far too aggressively as he dragged you out of the infirmary while you cried out for Simon. You tried to claw your way to him but Soap was stronger than you by a long shot. “We have to get out of here!” he shouted at you over the cacophony of voices, people running around frantically. You let him drag you away to safety, your body limp in his hold, thinking of Simon’s dying breath.

The infirmary had promptly been boarded up, the doors all sealed tight. The breakout had begun a few weeks ago and it only just infiltrated the base. When Ghost had come back, bleeding out after a mission gone wrong, you furiously checked him for bite marks. The relief you felt when you didn’t find any was short-lived. Simon had lost a lot of blood. Too much blood. You could still see it covering your hands the days following like a wraith. You felt like his blood was still wedged under your fingernails even after scrubbing your hands violently in a bucket of water. 

With the infirmary infected and the outside world gone, you had little options but to hunker down in the barracks. There were small hunting groups that would leave base and dare to edge into the city, trying to help people, and gathering resources. Ghost had been in one of those first groups to leave the safe confines of base. You wished you had begged him to stay. Pleaded with him not to go. 

The lights above you flickered, the generator not the most reliable of equipment. You looked across the table to your teammates, trying to keep yourself pulled together. It was only at night that you let yourself feel the pain, crying yourself to sleep. 

“We’re never gonna survive here if we don’t get that medical supplies,” Soap explained. 

“It’s too dangerous, Soap. We have no idea how bad it got in there. We have no way of knowing if all the bodies left behind turned,” Price retorted, pulling off his beanie and running his hand through his hair in nerves. 

“So, what then? We’re gonna send more men off to die, tryin’ to get shit from the city?”

Price closed his eyes momentarily. The bags forming under them showed just how little sleep he was getting. “We can’t risk more men. We’d be sendin’ them to their death, Soap. We don’t have the ammo to spare.”

“We don’t know that. We’re still not even sure if it's a guarantee the dead will change, or if they have to be bit.”

“It’s too–”

You cut the men off. “I can go.” Both their heads snapped in your direction. “I’m just a technician. With everything gone to shit, I haven’t been as much help as you guys have been. I can’t fight. I can’t–”

“No. We’re not riskin’ you,” Soap said sternly. 

“Soap,” you breathed. “I’m the only one here that isn’t crucial to the team. And don’t argue with me. It’s just a fact. Let me go. I can sneak in and grab what we need. I’m far quieter than any of you boisterous men anyways.”

Soap breathed your name. He was worried about you. He could see the pain in your eyes after losing Simon. He was worried this was a suicide mission. And that you wanted that. 

“Let me be of use,” you begged. Soap wanted to argue. So did Price. But you were right. You would be the fastest. And as much as they valued you, the remaining men couldn’t survive here without Soap or Price. 

“Lass, are you sure?” Soap said finally. He wanted you to feel useful, but he didn’t want you running off and risking your life because of the pain you felt from losing Simon. 

“Let me do it, Soap. Please. I need this.”

He couldn’t argue with you. He didn’t have it in him to hurt you more than you were already hurting. 

“Fine. But I’m not happy about this.”

You stood in your gear, an empty backpack plastered to your back waiting to be filled with medical supplies. Price had gone over the layout of the wing with you, showing you exactly where you needed to go to get the right supplies on a map of the building. 

You stood before the infirmary doors, the ones that would lead to a long, winding hall that would bring you to the center of the infirmary. Off of that were several rooms and more halls, and a surgical floor. It was a large span of space to cover, but you believed you could do this. 

“Be quick about it, lass. We’ll be right here when you get back,” Soap said to you, his hand resting on your shoulder. 

You took in a breath and walked up to the doors that had been unlocked, a large piece of plywood that had previously been nailed against it, removed so you could go in. Before you reached out to the door handle, you turned around and rushed into Soap’s arms. He held you tightly, your head tucked right under his chin. “Don’t you fuckin’ die on me,” he mumbled into your hair. 

You pulled back and gave him a sad smile. Then you nodded at Price and faced the daunting doors again. Once you stepped through the threshold and the doors shut behind you, you could hear the plywood being put back up, a hammer nailing it in place. When you got back, you were to knock and Soap would be there waiting to let you back in. 

The hall was flickering with a few overhead lights, the generator still powering a few of the rooms in this wing. 

Ghost had a glazed-over expression when he rolled off his medical bed. The room around him was silent apart from the ticking of a clock in the corner. There was blood pooled all around him and dripping onto the tiled floor as he stood. He had some semblance of who he was, of what happened, but most of his thoughts were hazed over like he was stuck in a daydream. 

He had walked the length of the room, a sudden craving for food hitting the pit of his stomach. Any sound made him snap in that direction, rushing towards it as if on cue. He heard banging coming from one of the med rooms, the door locked and nailed over with whatever scrap of wood they could find. More people like him were trapped behind those doors, their groaning echoing down the hall. 

Ghost limped as he walked, remembering how he had been shot in his leg. He looked down at his crimson-stained pants, almost like he should be feeling pain, but he felt nothing. 

Days had passed and he roamed the halls aimlessly, not even getting bored. His mind had drifted off, somewhere that wasn’t in his body, allowing him to walk around like a zombie, completely void of any logical thought. 

He grumbled as he made his rounds, stuck in a time loop, walking down the flickering hall again and again, passing by bodies that had been left behind. 

He hesitated when he heard something. He turned to look in the direction of the noise, intrigued. It sounded like someone had just walked blindly into a metal medical tray, knocking instruments onto the floor. His movements were fast and nimble as he approached the sound. 

He froze in place when he saw you–though he didn’t know who you were at that moment. You cursed yourself for being loud but didn’t hear anything in retaliation so you figured you were safe. Your hand rested on the knife strapped to your hip anyway.

You were edging towards the main infirmary double doors, your hand touching the metal of the handle. You should go in there and get supplies, but that’s where you had last seen Simon. You didn’t have it in you to see what had become of him, his body rotting alone. 

Instead, you walked down the hall and into a storage closet, oblivious to the shell of Ghost who trailed behind you. 

You left the door to the storage room open to let in a few strips of light so you could see better. You hunched over and began to dig through the supplies that had been thrown all over the floor in panic. 

Ghost rolled his neck as he saw you in the room, your back to him. He had a sudden urge to sink his teeth deep into your skin, to tear you to shreds. In fact, he wanted nothing more; the instinct was overpowering. 

But when he got close, he could hear your voice as you mumbled to yourself, going over the list of the items you needed. You held up a pack of linens, trying to see if they were clean. “These will have to do,” you said softly, shoving them into your backpack. 

A wave of familiarity surfaced inside Ghost, a strange feeling of being alive pumping through his veins. When he got to the doorframe, he could smell you. His senses heightened, the waft of your natural scent sent Ghost into a daze. He remembered—though he wasn’t sure what he was remembering. All he knew was that he recognized that smell. 

His body had felt like it was in hibernation, his motors set on autopilot as he mindlessly walked down the halls. But suddenly, Ghost’s true mind was brought to the forefront. And his body craved you, though not in the way he had just moments earlier. He didn’t want to sink his teeth into your neck, he wanted to feel your warmth against him. 

Ghost moved with such dexterity and silence, it was clear he was no longer human. When you stood, his arms immediately wrapped around you, eliciting a scream from your throat. 

Ghost still wasn’t fully comprehending what was happening; all he knew was that his body wanted you. His hand slid up around your neck, leaving a trail of blood on your clothes. He tried to speak, but he couldn't fathom what he wanted to say. All that came out was a strangled groan. 

You sputtered, trying to catch your breath as your heart raced in your chest. Ghost felt for your pulse beneath his fingertips, relishing in the way your blood pumped through your body. 

You turned your head slightly, spying the man who had you trapped against the many shelves in the closet.

It was Simon.

Terror flooded your system. He didn’t look like himself. His eyes were glossed over, his pupils and iris almost unidentifiable, the entirety of his eyes were white, appearing like he was blind. The blood that had soaked his face had congealed, the rusted color running down his clothes where he was shot in the chest and leg. He looked just how you left him, and it sent a sense of terror through you. 

“S-Simon?” You whispered, unsure if you were caught in a nightmare. 

A groan escaped his cracked lips. You gulped. He had become one of them . 

You were certain he was about to tear you apart, just as you had seen other fallen men do to your teammates. You closed your eyes, tears rushing down your cheeks as you prepared for the worst. His hands felt cold around your neck, like ice. You shivered against him. You accepted your fate—a small part of you actually wanted it. You wanted him to end you. To take you down with him. You didn't want to be alone anymore.

He nuzzled his nose against your neck and you squeezed your eyes shut, preparing for him to bite you. But it never came. 

Instead, he just moved his nose against you, smelling your hair and skin. His hands were still locked tightly against you, but they began to travel across your body. You opened your eyes in shock. Ghost’s hands trailed your chest, groping you with one hand, the other sprawling over the front of your thigh and stomach. You gasped in surprise. 

You felt him harden against you, something you had experienced many times before now, and the familiarity of it made your heart pound with mixed emotions. Your mind was too caught up trying to decipher what was happening to truly take the moment in. 

Ghost’s cold hands slid under your black shirt, snaking their way up to your breasts, cupping each one in his hands. Your nipples immediately hardened from the iciness of his touch. He ground himself against your backside, making you close your eyes in a moment of reprieve. You got lost in the past, imagining this was how it used to be. How he had touched you so many times before. 

You breathed his name and he seemed to like that, for he rolled his hips against you harder, his chest rumbling in satisfaction. 

The cold of his hands left you, making you oddly yearn to have them back on your skin. His fingers traced the hem of your pants before aggressively pulling them down. He got them past the curve of your ass and turned your bodies so your hips hit the edge of a shelving unit that acted as a table. You knocked all the supplies off as Ghost pushed you down against it, using your hands to catch yourself. 

Ghost shuffled with his own pants, wasting no time at all to slip himself inside you. You called out in a brief shock of pain. He held himself deep within you, his hands squeezing as he held you, his body bent over slightly, his chest flat against your back. Your own hands reached out to grab the edge of the table to help steady yourself. The searing heat of you against his frozen skin spread through him like wildfire.

Your cries ignited a flame in Ghost’s chest—the feel of your body, the sound of your gasps, the smell of your hair—felt natural, like this was exactly what he was supposed to be doing. That he was made to take you like this. That your body against him was something so ingrained in his system, that he had no choice to to let his limbs move on muscle memory. 

He began to thrust inside you, your hips hitting the table with each snap of his hips. His hand snaked around your neck, the smear of blood now coating your skin. One of your hands came up to wrap around his wrist, resting it there in support. 

You groaned as he rocked into you harder. The pain from his sudden intrusion had subsided, and now you were filled with a haze of rapture. A tear slid down your cheek. You were unable to process what was happening, but what you did know was that you had missed Simon more than anything and that this wasn’t real. This wouldn’t last longer than this moment in time. 

Ghost’s chest rumbled in pleasure as he thrusted into you. Your walls squeezed around him and he let out a loud groan. His arm not clutching your neck wrapped around your midsection, pulling you away from the table so you were flesh against him. He held you tight, almost like he couldn’t get you close enough. That if he had his way, he’d let you make a home beneath his skin. 

His hips snapped vehemently against you, his pace quickening. You moaned, your sounds coming out strangled as his cold hand held your neck. Your walls tightened around him, your climax rapidly approaching. You couldn’t quite believe that you were not only fucking your dead boyfriend, but you were going to come in record time. 

You were absolutely intoxicating to him as your warmth clenched down on him, your heat something recognizable to him, and yet, the intimacy was foreign at the same time. Now that he was devoid of his usual body temperature, the warm feeling of you around him was almost painful. 

When you mewled and cried under him, your walls spasaming, he drew himself to the edge right behind you. Ghost came inside you with a great urge, growling in your ear as he tried to support the two of you. You felt him fill you, the white fluid seeping out around where his cock continued to pump in and out of you. His movements became sloppy, your legs shaking, your hand clutching onto his wrist for dear life. 

You couldn’t hold back the cascade of tears, finally letting them flow as Ghost slowed his pace before stopping altogether. He edged out of you, his arms hesitantly letting you go, and you immediately turned around to face him, burying your face in his chest. You sobbed as he stood there. His arms didn’t reach out and hold you like he once would. He didn’t try to comfort you like he always did so well. 

But still, he just let you huddle against him, taking what you needed from him. He didn’t attack you. He didn’t try to kill you. He wasn’t himself, but he wasn’t fully gone either. You turned to look up at him, resting your chin on his chest. He looked down and you stifled a cry. His white eyes were going to be permanently burned into your mind, haunting you for eternity. His face was sullen and blanched, blood smearing all across him; fresh blood dripping slightly from his mouth.

You tentatively reached a hand up and rested it on his frozen cheek. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled. Ghost made no indication he could even hear you. 

You took in a deep breath, willing yourself to do this, and stepped back. You adjusted yourself before slowly reaching down for your bag. Ghost stood and watched you, the only thing moving was the tilt of his head as he traced your movements. 

You shuffled to the door, anticipating him to reach out and end this daydream, ripping you apart. But he just watched you go, his mind riddled with foggy thoughts. He wanted to tear into you, but another part of him prevented him from doing so. He wanted to grab you and hold you against him for some reason. He liked the warmth your body provided. But another part of him felt nothing at all. 

He watched you leave in a stupor, his mind just barely grasping onto the image and memory of you. It’s true, he wasn’t completely gone, but he was fading fast. 

You cried violently as you stumbled back to the exit. When you banged on the doors, you heard the plywood being ripped off and the doors swinging open. Soap pulled you back into the base and held you at arm's length. “What happened?” he asked desperately. You were sobbing and covered in blood.

Should you tell him? Would Soap let you return to Simon knowing he wasn’t gone? Or would they make you stay here, letting Simon slip away forever? 

You suddenly regretted leaving him. You should have stayed with Simon, even if he was a shell of who he used to be. You should have waited the time out together until he fully lost himself, and you would let him take you down with him. 

[wanders-in-wonderland]

Treatment Plan

Last night was supposed to be harmless New Year’s Eve fun, partying with friends, dancing with strangers, and maybe finding someone to ring in the new year with. I remember dancing and taking shots with a really hot guy at some club where we'd shared a new year kiss. There's nothing else in my memory and I don’t remember when I passed out but I wake up alone in a medical examination room, naked, gagged, and strapped down to a bed with my arms above my head and legs spread wide.

The door opens and four men walk in. The first one I recognize is the hot guy I'd made out with. Except now, he has the look of a doctor, dressed in a white coat, wearing a stethoscope and holding a clipboard. The other three men are wearing nurses scrubs and not a single one acknowledges me as they step into the room and close the door behind them.

The doctor glances down at his clipboard and looks at me, smirking slightly. “It says here you’ve been admitted due to your issues with obedience and self-control. I promise we deliver the best results here, so you, darling, will be in tip-top shape in no time,” his voice is tinged with mockery and I try to shake my head and explain that this is all a mistake, that I have no idea what is going on, and I’m not supposed to be here.

“Day one of this treatment regimen helps us establish a baseline of what we’re working with and involves some sensory deprivation just to enhance the effectiveness but I promise, you’ll enjoy it,” he purrs, coming to stand next to my head before sliding a piece of fabric over my eyes. I struggle uselessly against the bindings, trying to dislodge the blindfold but it’s too secure to move. I feel hands hold my head in place before someone else slides headphones over my ears and suddenly, I’m blind and deaf to the world.

There is nothing to prepare me for what comes next, and no way that I can have any ability to sense what they plan to do to me. I can feel tears pricking at my eyes, absorbing into the blindfold when suddenly, I feel fingers trail along my ribs.

I let out a muted whimper, my body instinctively lurching in response. The feeling is so overwhelming and I’m absolutely senseless and helpless. The fingers linger around my hips and dig in gently, making me jerk uselessly in my bindings. It’s almost too much for my body to handle, the unknown touches, the horrible anticipation and suspense of not knowing anything at all.

Without warning, the fingers dig harder into my ribs, tickling me harshly and mercilessly. I wail behind the gag and thrash desperately, begging for it to stop to no avail. The fingers don’t let up and my entire world has narrowed to the unbearable sensations those fingers are drawing out of my bound body. There’s nothing I can do except endure it.

My wails have died down to little mindless whimpers as the tickling continues to ravage my ribs and hips when I feel the fingers pull away finally. I gasp for air, hoping that this torture is finally going to be over. Suddenly, I feel fingers brush against my underarms and I scream so hard my throat feels raw. I’m yanking and pulling at the straps holding me down but I’m bound too tightly. Tears are flowing freely into the blindfold as my body jerks. The fingers dig devastatingly into my underarms and I’m inconsolable. The tickling feels like electricity going straight into my nerves and it makes my mind hazy.

There’s no mercy and no stopping. The fingers find every vulnerable spot on my body and there’s nothing to stop the wretched tickling that’s making me want to curl into myself and disappear. There’s no acclimation to the feeling or becoming desensitized to it all. Every single movement feels like my body is dancing on a live wire and I have no choice but to experience every devastating feeling.

Another set of fingers finds their way to my hard nipples and I can barely draw in enough air to scream as the stimulation adds to the overwhelming feelings crashing through my body. Flicks against my nipples make me squirm and moan.

Then, my world lights up behind my blindfold when I feel fingers on my clit.

The combination of tickling at every sensitive spot on my body and the focus on my clit shatters me. Every single nerve is pulled open and vulnerable to unforgiving, relentless stimulation and I know I’m dripping wet onto the bed under me. It’s all too much for my brain to process. Every force on my body pushes me closer and closer to an orgasm and it’s unbearable.

A sudden flash of pain hits my clit as someone’s fingers sharply pinch my throbbing button and I wail as my orgasm barrels through my body. None of the stimulation lets up and the fingers on my clit continue to force waves of pleasure through my body while fingers everywhere else drive my orgasm even higher. I’m delirious and barely coherent between all of the different assaults of stimulation that wrack my body.

I feel the fingers on my clit pull away and I’m gasping and shaking. The tickling at my ribs and underarms doesn’t relent and I can barely catch my breath enough to sustain my sobs. Fingers brush against my inner thighs and I can’t help but whine, hearing only my wild heartbeat thudding in my ears.

Suddenly, there’s a vibrator slammed against my clit and my mind breaks. There are too many things going on but my whole being is driven to focus on the horrible vibrator pillaging my clit with no mercy. My next orgasm shoots through me with no warning, no build up, no gentle waves of pleasure. Just pure ecstasy shooting deep through my body, so hard that I can feel it in my bones and it renders me completely broken.

I have no concept of time or place as the torture continues. My body moves on its own accord as it struggles and trembles, futilely trying to avoid every touch. It could have been ten minutes or ten hours when everything finally fades away and all of the hands touching me are gone. I lie there, limp, unmoving, unthinking, barely conscious. It takes me an immeasurable amount of time to catch my breath, my body still feeling phantom aftershocks of pleasure and torment. I vaguely register the feeling of someone pulling the headphones off of my head and I’m able to hear again.

“Oh darling,” his voice is the first thing I recognize, “I suppose I forgot to mention, this treatment regimen has ten levels. And we can’t move on from level one until you learn to control your body and keep still during your treatments. Clearly we’re not going to get there today, but perhaps you’ll do better tomorrow. Otherwise, you’re in for a very long stay here…”

[immortalmrwavell]

Getting The Job

(Original story posted November 7th 2021. Original story title “Better Life, Cop Life”) This story has been mildly Updated!

Recently Eric’s life had been going down the drain. First he split up with his boyfriend Jake after discovering he was cheating. Then he lost his job due to staff cuts. And to top it off he then lost his old apartment since it was all in Jake’s name. Now his ex was living in their old place with the guy he cheated with while Eric was struggling to find a new job while living in the cheapest apartment he could find. As he applied for shitty job after job he couldn’t help but wonder what he’d done to deserve all this? Was it all some kind of cruel universal joke?

As he was job hunting, one of the positions that popped up was a job at a small clothing shop called “Threads for Life”. The description of the job itself was extremely vague but he assumed it would just be retail. Working a till and serving customers etc. So he applied.

Surprisingly they were the first to get back to him about his application and in such a short time frame as well. They emailed asking for him to come in for an interview. Of course Eric accepted. Why wouldn’t he? The only weird thing was how close this shop seemed to be. It was just down the road from his old apartment and still rather close to his current one but he could swear he’d never seen or heard of the shop before. He just chalked it up to him being unobservant and forgetful.

On the day of the interview Eric found the shop just where it was said to be. Even after seeing it though, nothing clicked. He could’ve sworn it wasn’t here before. He shook the odd feeling off however as he stepped up to the front door perfectly on time and looking his best.

Upon entering he was greeted by a middle aged man who introduced himself as the owner of the establishment, Tony. The two exchange greetings before Tony ushered Eric to follow him. Eric expected to be taken immediately to an office but instead Tony simply walked through the many isles of clothing with him while chatting casually about the shop and its history.

Before Eric had assumed this to be a simple clothes shop. One that sold shirts, pants and all the rest like most other shops. And it did. But something Eric was quick to notice was how most of the clothes seemed to be matched together in outfits. Rather than being separated into different sections, almost all the clothes in the shop had already been prematched. There were plenty of casual combos like t-shirts and jeans or shorts and tank tops however as they moved from aisle to aisle there were a very noticeable amount of clothes that seemed more like costumes.

Some were more understandable like suits. But a lot of the others?… Eric took note of medical scrubs, fireman uniforms, motorcycle gear, handyman clothes, police uniforms, cowboy costumes, construction clothes and so much more. Eric also couldn’t help noting that none of the clothes seemed to be marketed towards women. He supposed the shop specialised in men’s attire specifically. Still he couldn’t help but find the layout of the store to be… strange.

“Soooo… Eric was it? Before I can give you a job. I want to ask you a couple questions.” The owner said as he sat down on a cushioned stool near the back of the shop, prompting Eric to do the same.

Eric of course agreed to this as questions were standard procedure for almost any interview so he was ready for it..

“Okay first question then. Growing up, did you ever have any dreams of who you’d eventually become? What job you’d want to strive for? What kind of man you’d want to become?” Tony asked.

It was a strange question for sure but Eric still pondered it for a moment before answering. “Well I don’t think I was ever dead set on anything but I remember wanting to be something along the lines of a fireman… or a police officer maybe?”

Tony nodded, seeming pleased with that answer. “Okay then second question. Are you content with the current direction your life has taken or would you still like to fulfill that childhood dream if you could?”

Eric chuckled at the bizarre question. “Well… my life hasn’t exactly been going in a good direction recently. If I could change some things I would. But if you’re asking me whether I’d wanna become a cop then… I just don’t think I have what it takes.” He gestured down at his body. “I’m thin and lanky. Don’t really go to the gym that much and I’m not all that good with confrontation. To be honest I just don’t think I have the right mindset to be a cop you know?” Eric huffed before looking back up at the owner. “And no offense but what does that have to do with me working here?”

Tony didn’t answer at first. He just smiled before standing back up again. The owners eyes glanced around the store, mainly at all the costumes and then turned back to Eric.

“Alright. I think I can give you a job.”

Eric was surprised when he heard that. All he’d done was answer two silly questions. He tried to query as to how those questions even mattered but Tony simply asked Eric to follow him. Confused as ever, Eric did just that.

The pair made their way back down the isles of outfits. They passed by the suits, doctors scrubs and all the other costumes yet again. Only the weird thing was now that Eric was getting a closer look at them, he started to notice how real the costumes looked. They weren’t just silly fake costumes you’d wear to a party. They were the real deal! Actually looking as though they belonged to real firemen and real doctors. Even the tradie outfits looked dirty as if they’d been used for actual tradie work.

Tony stopped in front of the police uniforms. Eric was quick to notice just how real those looked as well. Not just uniform but genuine looking police badges as well. Not to mention the radio, utility belt and even a body cam that all looked completely real. As if they’d been taken directly from actual cops and put on display.

“Pick one.” Was all Tony said.

“What? Seriously?” Eric was baffled. This had to be some kind of joke right?

“Oh come on. Humour me a little. Pick one out.” Tony urged, patting Eric on the back. “Though if I were you I’d certainly pick that one.” The shop owner pointed out a specific uniform amongst the selection. Eric didn’t really see why it’d matter which one he chose as they mostly looked the same anyway.

Eric sighed. “Fine, I’ll pick that one then. Now what? Want me to go try it on.” He joked only to be met by an affirming nod from Tony.

“Changing rooms are just over there.”

Eric raised an eyebrow at the man but decided what the hell. He took the uniform off the rack along with the equipment. Tony then picked up the large black boots and placed them on top of the uniform in Eric’s hands. Eric shook his head as he turned and walked off towards the changing rooms.

He shut the blue curtain behind as he stepped into one of the stalls. It was a fair bit bigger than he’d expected it to be. Eric sat the uniform down on the bench before striping himself down to his boxer briefs. After setting his own clothes to one side, he began to get dressed in the police uniform.

First thing he did was pull on the pants which he found to be rather baggy. He sat down to prevent them from falling as he grabbed the shirt, pulling it on and buttoning it up. He made sure to tuck it into his pants before grabbing the utility belt and strapping firmly around his waist. He still couldn’t believe it had a real taser attached to it and everything. Lastly Eric slid his feet into the heavy black boots which were clearly a couple sizes too large.

With that Eric stood up to take a look in the mirror. He looked ridiculous. The uniform was far too big and baggy on him. He looked like he was playing dress up more than anything. He slid his hands into his pockets as looked at himself a little more, amused by the uniform. Though as his hands dug around in the pockets, he realised something was in one of them. It was small and metallic. Eric pulled it out to reveal a name tag with “J. Desmond” engraved on it. Jokingly Eric decided to pin it to his shirt for a laugh.

Eric shook his head again at how silly this all was. Why had Tony made him put this one anyway? With a shrug he was just about to start taking the uniform off, not wanting to look stupid when he stepped out of the changing room. But before he could even start unbuttoning the shirt, he began to feel…weird. Like a warm wave of pure pleasure began flowing over him. A wave so incredible that he almost didn’t notice his body starting to change.

His upper body was first to see a transformation. His back widening significantly as his flat chest began to bubble and swell into two thick hefty pecs. Pecs that grew larger until they started to strain his shirt slightly. The same shirt that’d been hanging loosely off his frame moments ago now starting to fill out at an alarming rate. Especially as his shoulders bulged to the size of cannon balls while his traps grew to match. His waist grew larger but tighter at the same time as fat melted away in place of pure raw muscle. Showing itself even more so in the form of abs. They weren’t chiseled washboard abs, they were thicker and softer than that but still impressive all the same.

But his arms. They were what really caught Eric’s attention. Partly thanks to the cop shirt he was wearing being a short sleeve which gave him a full view of their transformation. He got to watch as veins pulsed across his skinny twig-like arms as though they were being pumped full of unseen energy. And then with pain or warning they started to swell. His previously non existent biceps began hulking into reality as the muscle beneath his skin inflated. It should’ve been impossible. Seemingly gaining mass from nothing. But his eyes witnessed it all. His forearms expanded rapidly while his hands cracked and thickened. His biceps continued to balloon with power and size until they stretched his sleeves. Only then did they finally stop. His veins subsided as his arms reached their new colossal size.

His upper body might’ve been massive now but his lower body was getting ready to catch up. Eric’s waist and hips had already widened enough for the waist of the cop pants to fit securely. Now it was his legs turn to catch up.

In seconds they put on an unbelievable amount of sheer muscle mass. It was as though someone had plugged an air pump into his legs and started filling them up. But it wasn’t air. It was pure real muscle. Eric couldn’t help but groan a little as his pants began to feel tighter. He leaned against the wall of the cubicle for support as his thighs and calves continued to bloat thicker and more powerful by the second. The once baggy cop pants now fit him like a glove. But it wasn’t just his legs. His backside started to swell as well. His once average butt growing into a juicy muscular bubble ass that strained against the back of his pants perfectly. Not to mention his feet cracking and lengthening similar to hands. Growing multiple sizes until they fit perfectly inside the black cop boots he had on.

When the next change kicked in, Eric’s eyes widened as one of his hands instinctively flew towards his crotch. Grabbing his bulge tightly as even that began to swell and grow. His eyes began to roll back as his cock snaked down one his legs, growing girthier in the process. Meanwhile his balls followed suit as they bloated into fat heavy nuts full to the brim with cum.

His body was complete but his head still had to change. A stinging sensation came over his face as it started to morph. The shape of his head and all of his features altering dramatically until he was unrecognisable from the man he once was. His new look being much sharper and masculine in a way that would’ve screamed high school jock had he been a little younger. All the while the light stubble he’d always carried grew into more of a short well kept beard while the messy mid length hair he adorned shortened into faded crew cut.

“Fuuuuuck…” Eric groaned as the transformation subsided at last. There was a clear difference in his voice. It must’ve been altered with the rest of his body. He found himself looking back into the mirror with amazement. No longer was he that scrawny pale figure of a man he’d seen reflected all his life. Now he was… buff. Really buff! And hot as fuck!. It was unreal. The uniform that was more or less falling off him moments ago now clung to him as though he were made for it. He couldn’t stop himself from running his hands up and down his torso, feeling a set of strong abs hiding under his shirt before drifting back up to squeeze his power new pecs through the fabric. He never thought he’d actually have fucking pecs but here he was now! Groping and kneading them.

In all the excitement his cock began to firm up. Eric could feel the blood rushing to his crotch as his growing erection created a clear outline in his pants. He smirked as he brought both hands down towards his crotch. Gently he rubbed his hands across the length of his dick through his pants.

Eric looked back into the mirror before bringing both arms up into flex. His already hard cock twitched at the sight of his biceps bulging, threatening to rip his sleeves in the process. The strength he felt flowing through his arms… No, his whole body was intoxicating! With his left hand Eric proceeded to grasp and squeeze his right bicep. It seemed impossible, like he was living in a lucid dream!

Just then Eric thought of something he’d always wished he could do. He’d never been buff enough to do it before. But now? He lowered his arms to his sides, stood up straight before flexing his chest. His pecs bounced. Eric’s eyes widened in amazement at the sight of his new muscle tits jumping underneath the shirt. He bounced them a few more times before cupping them again with a sense of pure wonder flowing through him. “These feel fucking amazing…”

Once he’d finished admiring his pecs, Eric remembered something else that’d grown. He turned his back to the mirror and looked behind. His cock twitched extra hard this time as he caught sight of his muscular new cop butt straining against his uniform pants. He couldn’t help himself. Before long his greedy hands were reaching back and grasping at his thick bubbly ass. “Oooohh fuuck.” He growled, feeling just how hefty they were. “My ass is fucking huge!…” Eric murmured aloud, lost in the pleasure. So lost in fact that he didn’t even notice Tony peering through the curtains. Watching with a horny gaze as Eric squeezed and groped his fat new ass. Even watching as Eric went as far as to place his hands just under his ass cheeks and start jiggling them, dumbly laughing as he did.

Eric felt his cock pulsing and bucking uncontrollably as he played with his cop butt. So much so that he couldn’t hold back anymore. Soon enough he spun back around to face the mirror again before unzipping his pants. Tony continued to creep in on the show while Eric shoved a hand into his underwear, struggling to free his erection. With a little effort however Eric was able to let out a satisfied sigh as his girthy python sprung free. The thing must’ve been around 9 inches long and insanely thick. It was every man’s dream cock.

A slapping noise could be heard from the changing rooms as Eric began smacking his cock against his hand while he admired it. Every smack sent a pleasurable shiver through his body. He had to stroke it. He was just able to wrap his hand around its full girth before he started to pump. It had to have been at least three times more sensitive than his old cock as Eric couldn’t stop cursing while he pumped it.

He began to jerk faster as he looked over his new body in the mirror again. His handsome bearded face and buff body. How thick his legs were. How buff his arms had become. How massive his chest had grown. Just looking at it all reflected back at him allowed him to jerk off furiously. He then looked down at his cock. He loved seeing it. Soooo thick and excited as some precum started to drip from the tip. With how sensitive it was and intensely he was pumping it, Eric could tell he was gonna to blow any moment.

He turned to his left, getting a perfect side view of his body. He couldn’t help but fixate on how much his ass stood out. He couldn’t stop himself from reaching his free hand back towards it again. Before long he was groping his ass and jerking his cock all at the same time. The new cop was having the time of his goddamn life!

“Fuuuuuuuccck!” That was enough to send him over the edge. Tony, who was still watching, saw Eric's ass clench and his cock erupt with an enormous load. One so big that it shit cum all over the benches adjacent to the new cop as well as his old and now ill fitting clothes. His cock continued to buck and twitch for a good few moments afterwards. Shooting a few more times as it covered the floor in front of him with cum.

“See. I knew you’d like that one.” Tony finally made himself known as he pulled back the curtain.

Eric whipped around, still panting a little. “Fuck I… my deepest apologies sir… I couldn’t stop myself.” He tried to reason.

“No need to apologise Officer.” Tony smirked as he glanced down at Eric’ softening cock, still dripping cum. “Most find it hard to contain themselves after what you just went through. So no need to worry. I’ll even get it cleaned up for ya.” The store manager smiled innocently.

“Officer?…” Eric repeated what the other man had said to him as though it weren’t the truth. It sounded weird and off putting to hear someone call him that. So why did it sound so right at the same time?

“Well you are a Cop now. Officer James Desmond to be precise, so you better get used to hearing it.” Tony nodded towards the name tag that was pinned to Eric’s shirt.

Hearing that name triggered something inside Eric. Memories of being Cop flooded his mind along with a bunch of other unfamiliar memories. He still remembered who he used to be but now he had a whole new life filling his head that made his old one feel like a fleeting dream. A new life as Officer James Desmond.

“Thank you sir. You have no idea how grateful I am for all this…” James stated, his new manners kicking in right away. Immediately after he tucked his fat new cock back into his pants before pulling up the zip. “But I’ve got to be back at the station in half an hour.”

“No worries Officer! I completely understand. You head off and I’ll be sure to get all your ball batter cleaned. Might take me a while though.” Tony joked, earning a chuckle from James.

“Heh sorry sir. Got myself a pair of bull balls down here.” James gave his crotch a quick squeeze. “Well I’m off. If you ever need anything don’t hesitate to ask for me down at the staton.” He said, passing by Tony as he exited the changing cubicle.

“Oh don’t worry I will.” Tony replied, giving James’ ass a smack as he passed. He continued to watch James’ ass shake as he sauntered away up until the sexy new cop reached the front door.

James hopped into his car, not even noticing it’d been morphed into a cop car, before starting up the engine. As he drove towards the station he couldn’t help but daydream about plunging his cock into some other hot cop’s ass or having another cop fuck his new bubble butt. Surely some of his buddies down at the station would be down for some fun. According to his memories he seemed to recall catching his own partner checking out his ass a couple times…

Back at the shop. “Another life bettered and another hot stud on the streets. A pretty good day I’d say” Tony sighed to himself with a smile before turning back towards the changing room. Looking over at the huge mess of Cop nut he now had to clean. “Well… best get to work.”

[oncall-london]

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[thetxtdevil]

Scrub Nurse

Nurse!Yeonjun x Doctor!Reader

summary: After the nurse makes you look like a fool in surgery in your opinion, you get into an argument that leads to the nurse putting you into your place.

content: smut, hospital setting (if you don't like anything correlating to blood and anything medical don't read), descriptions of surgery, dom.yeonjun, sub.fem.reader, pinning, restraining, spanking, doggy style, manhandling, and the slightest dacryphilia ?, public sex? kinda

word count: 2.2k

au note: took my sweet time with this one hope you like it, and credit to @aduh0308 for help/support.

A metronome of an EKG echoes through the quiet sterile room, the environment is properly lit, agonizingly bright, but perfect to focus on the patient in front of you. The silence of the room is broken by the first words “Alright everybody we have a Mr. Johnson, a 65 year old, white male presenting with a lovely pulmonary embolism, now let's get this clot out shall we?”

You turn your head to your scrub nurse, glancing down the man’s hand already hovering over the iodine packet and sponge. Your palm reaches out above the patient, “Iodine please, Yeonjun.” The solution lands in your hands firmly, not a chance for it to slip and fall out of the sterile field. That’s how good the scrub nurse was, Yeonjun, the whole surgical staff’s favorite. He has been a scrub nurse ever since he graduated nursing school, long before your surgical internship. Never missed a shift, never made a mistake, always a trustworthy coworker, and there was no way you were going to deny it. You also couldn’t deny that he was unbelievably handsome, his warm brown eyes squint signifying a smile under the surgical mask, little dark hair flipping up from under his white and black starry scrub cap.

Yeonjun is smart, handsome, kind, but also a man-whore. First day of internship rumors circulated in your small group that he hooked up with everybody. You’d roll your eyes and deny the fact, first, that's none of their business, second, we’re all too professional to be hooking up with our coworkers and “doing it” in the hospital. Oh how wrong you were, when little innocent surgeon wannabe you walks into a supply closet to witness your surgical resident getting fucked dumb by none other than, Nurse Yeonjun.

It was a hard pill to swallow because he wasn’t the only one. Not only did you have to learn the extensive material of saving lives but you also had to dodge the overly attractive men working with you. You didn’t know if it was all the sad deaths or the burnout but you felt like they were everywhere fucking everybody. You soon learn that's the way of a hospital, a business that wants your money, employees that work until they are their own cause of death, and it is a building full of horny people.

You bite your lip in concentration and the fact that the man who you’ve seen his naked ass a few too many times is standing so close. Eyes locked on the open chest of the patient, your skilled eyes can easily identify the pulmonary artery and the exact spot of the clot. One by one a tool is given to you, “Yank-” the suctioning tool is already in your grasp.

You look at the man, “The yankauer, Doctor” he says as you know that he has a smirk under that mask.

“Getting a little ahead of yourself aren’t you?” you say looking back into the cavity suctioning out the loose embolus.

“No doctor, ok maybe a little.”

“Are you bored of me, nurse?” Yeonjun’s eyebrow quirks up when you exaggerate his title. He leaves the conversation at that so you can continue to focus on the surgery. The clot was removed, blood flow restored, the chest cavity was put back into place and it was now time to close the incision site. “Staples.” Yeonjun says with the item waiting in his hand.

“No, no I want sutures.” Yeonjun shifts on his feet and stares at you. With a little nudge forward of the tool you stare at the item contemplating. Suddenly you feel your feet ache from hours of standing your brain trying to tell you to go for the faster option in front of you. This is a big incision and the healing rate is quicker if staples are used. Rolling your eyes, your gloved hand stretches out, “staples.”

%%%

You’re sitting down outside the operating rooms, taking your little sterile booties off. You couldn’t help but stare at your scrub nurse, perfect posture at the rolling desk-cart, already chewing his habit gum while charting. You didn’t like how he was telling you what tools you needed in surgery, irritated at each crack of bubble and his sharp jaw clenching at every chew, but you again couldn’t deny how handsome he looked. Picking yourself off the bench grabbing your white coat on the way to Nurse Yeonjun. His hair in his face looking through his eyelashes sees you in front of him all the while a big pink bubble pops. Taking a deep breath for encouragement you ask, “so do you want to grab a drink after the next operation?”

“Thanks for asking but I’m meeting with the other scrub nurses”

“Ah yes you nurses always like to stick together” you say as you pick at the ridges of the desk, annoyed, “and always have to prove themselves better than doctors.”

Another gum bubble pops, Yeonjun leans over the desktop getting closer to you, “Aw does precious not like that I know how to do her job better?”

You straighten your posture trying to look bigger than the man, “That’s doctor to you” Yeonjun rolls his eyes, “now nurse I want you to get this surgery prepared in time”

“Well doctor princess, I’ll do that for you if you show your nurses a little more respect.”

You’re shaking of anger at his low judgment, the man smirks looking around the room. Your eyes follow to find out that everybody’s attention is on you two. Yeonjun logs out of the computer, spitting his gum out in the trash, before grabbing your wrist dragging you to the nearest empty on-call room. “W-what are you do-ah” you words interrupted by gasp as Yeonjun pushes you into the door.

“I’ve seen more than your little doctor eyes have seen, I might not have many years of education but I have the experience” Yeonjun spits his words, face so close, one hand on your waist while the other locks the door behind you.

“I’ve gone through years of school to not get orders from a nurse.” The nurse scoffs, “We’ll see about that.”

Yeonjun’s plush lips crash into yours so rushed and harsh your head bangs on the wooden door. He tugs away your scrub cap, unraveling your hair at the same time. You squirm at the feeling of the man’s hands finding their way under all your layers of clothing to rub the soft skin of your waist. Your hands reach up to drag your fingers through Yeonjun’s hair but he was not letting that happen. His big hands grab both arms, pinning them over your head making you squirm more as he grinds his half hard dick against your core.

“I know what you say about me,” you whine out of confusion, his lips grazing yours as he speaks, “words get around fast around here, words like you calling me a man-whore.” You would feel embarrassed but it was hard when his soft lips felt so nice on your neck while his cock so easily felt thanks to the thin material of the scrub pants. “But I know those words don’t mean shit especially when I see you drooling over me,” your half lidded eyes look into his dark ones, “just like that precious, even when you’re in someone else’s heart you look at me like you want me to fuck you right there.”

One hand still pinning your hands as the other slips under your seafoam green pants. His long fingers slip into your panties making your hips jut out. Yeonjun hisses when he feels your smooth slick making it easy to slide a finger in your cunt. Moans muffled by his lips as his fingers stretch you out and curl making your legs weak. So weak that your knees actually buckle, stumbling a bit before catching yourself. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Yeonjun, “what’s the matter pretty, can’t handle a few fingers in your cunt.”

“I-its the ah- long surgery” you try to deny the fact that the nurse has you melting.

“If that's so, let me put you in a different position.”

Yeonjun’s fingers slip out of your folds to be pushed into his mouth. You’d admire the filthy sight before but his other hand had you whipping around to the uncomfortable cots. The springs squeak as you fall into the cushion, looking up at the man watching as his fingers pop out of his mouth. He tugs the green scrub top over your head, “so a pretty surgeon can’t handle my fingers standing up but she can stand for hours on end, that’s cute,” he kisses your shoulder as his hand unhooks your bra, “wonder if you’ll be able to stand after I’m done with you.”

Your heart rate was pulsating, if you were hooked up to a heart monitor they surely would call an emergency code blue on you. Yeonjun knows it too, studying your body, noticing your rise of breathing rate and his lips on your neck could clearly feel your carotid pulse heightened. Taking your bottoms off, he smiles at the big damp patch on your underwear slipping them off to meet your pants on the floor. “Flip over, ass up,” you do what he said, losing the battle of superiority quickly much to Yeonjun’s surprise, but he wasn’t complaining. Taking off his clothes, he licks his red lips appreciating the sight of your plump ass and pussy patiently waiting for him. His hand slides up your inner thigh, listening closely to your whimpers as his finger tips touch your wet folds once more. You bite your lip trying to stop yourself from telling Yeonjun to do something instead you move your hips against his fingers.

 “Be patient” he hisses as he slaps your cunt, you cry out from the sensitivity, “aren’t good doctors supposed to be patient?” You whine, Yeonjun’s fingers tease your folds making you wetter to the point your dripping down your thighs. His other hand grazes your ass cheek, gripping them to spread you open every now and then. Yeonjun couldn’t deny that you were also one of the most attractive coworkers. He actually has been wanting to see you like this for awhile ever since you caught him during your internship. It was common for doctors to downgrade the nurses and he has learned to ignore it, but he took it as a chance to get you riled up. Looking at your ass then to your face, your neck stretching so your eyes can meet his, pleading, “Please Yeonjun.” Yeonjun reaches next to your head into the drawers knowing all too well that there was a convenient box of condoms in it. You lick your lips watching the man slide the condom on his stiff pink dick. You gasp again when he smacks your ass before positioning himself. Face falling into the flat pillow as Yeonjun pushes his fat cock slowly into you, stretching your hole deliciously, agonizingly.

“Mmm- more” your muffle getting another slap on your cheek. Yeonjun’s head was thrown back relishing in the feeling of your tight pussy around him, “so needy n’ so tight.” His slow movements quicken into your core making the cot’s springs squeak as loud as your moaning, head bobbing as the cheap bed moves in its spot. He leans over pecking your shoulder, “making me think you don’t do this often” he chuckles, “no wonder you’re so tense.”

You felt more tense right now since his dick was pounding harshly into you. Your insides were rearranged so much so you didn’t realize how loud you were being. "Gonna fuck you til you can't even remember your name, let alone operate like you're supposed to." Everything in your body felt like it was burning the stretch of your cunt, the friction of your folds, the teasing rubs of his hands on your ass. Each groan and hiss he made had you clenching around him. You whine, feeling the knot in your stomach tighten, “J-jun ‘m cummin.”

“Hmm I don’t know if I should let you.” he teases knowing there’s no way you could hold yourself back.

“Please, oh god- please” you scream out stretching your neck again to show your teary eyes. Yeonjun’s eyes roll back loving how fucked you looked. You came on his cock before he could say anything else resulting in Yeonjun thrusting hard to reach his high cumming into the wrap. “Shit” you both say in unison and collapse on the small bed close to its breaking point.

Yeonjun kisses your shoulder once again slipping out of you, throwing away the dirty condom. You rolled onto your back brushing your sweaty hair out of your face. Stunned by a passionate kiss on the lips by Yeonjun, “We should do this again sometime, Doctor.”

“I’ll put that in your orders, Nurse Yeonjun.”

%%%

Later that night Yeonjun stands in the operating room waiting for the surgeon to arrive at the table. He looks over his perfectly placed tools checking yet knowing he has everything in place for the surgery. The quiet room is disturbed by the air tight door opening by the surgeon. You walk in with clean hands, Yeonjun’s eyes scan your form as you dress into a gown and glove. It was dark in the room for the type of surgery but he still noticed the slight limp in your strut. Only he knew why you were in a bit discomfort, well, him and the others that were around the on-call room.

A nuisance,

TxT's Devil

taglist: @inkigayocamman, @naoristerling

[protectu01]

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