#how to check oxygen level of body

[cherrycocaineee]

42. The Firefighter and the Nurse - Toji Fushiguro

*Synopsis: Toji is a firefighter; strong, handsome, calloused, and scarred. You are a nurse who works a lot of shifts and doesn't make time for yourself due to your hectic schedule. You meet Toji after he inhales a bit too much of the smoke from a fire he rescued a child from. Toji's a shameless flirt, and he can't help himself around such a pretty nurse that's 10 years his age difference.*

*Warning: age gap, smut, 18+, MDNI. Everyone is of legal age. Use of Y/N. Size kink, Toji is significantly bigger (no matter your true size, Toji is bigger lol.) Dirty talk, hair pulling, spitting. Toji shows you how to take care of yourself since you're stressed and overworked. It's important. A bar scene. Whatever else is considered a warning.*

The hospital was busier than normal; there had been a fire at an apartment building and lots of the people who had gotten caught in it had made a beeline for the hospital to make sure they and their children were okay. You were standing at the receptionist's desk overlooking some papers on your clipboard; you tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. There was a dull ache in the bottom of your feet from being on them all day; a twelve hour shift now turning into a twenty hour shift.

"Y/N, exam room 3 has a patient in need of his oxygen tank changed. He breathed in a bit too much smoke from the smoke rescuing a kid from the burning apartment.” Dr. Holloway informed you.

Giving Dr. Holloway a quick nod, you set down the clipboard in your hand and approached exam room 3. The clipboard to the patient hangs inside the clear folder beside the door. You pick it up, reading the patient's name: Toji Fushiguro. Also listed on the paper was that he was a firefighter. You opened the door and went inside, the door clicked behind you. Sitting in one of the cushioned chairs was a very, VERY large man with green eyes, black hair, and a scar on his full lips. He was very handsome; actually the best way to describe the man sitting before you was that he mimicked a Greek God.

"Mr. Fushiguro,” your voice pulling him from whatever he was thinking of. "I'm Nurse Y/N, I'm here to check on your oxygen tank and oxygen levels.”

Toji grins up at you. "Might need another one since they sent me such a pretty, little nurse.”

A shameless flirt.

Your stomach instantly feels like it has a million butterflies in it, a soft blush forming on your cheeks. You mentally shake your head, reminding yourself to remain professional. There were still a lot of other patients who needed you to focus. So you smile, pushing away the butterflies that have been released in your stomach, and approach him.

"Noted,” your voice is gentle but there's a hint of amusement laced in it. You take off the oxygen mask that's on his face then set it on the table beside y'all. "Can you sit up for me, Mr. Fushiguro?”

"Call me Toji.” He says, his voice still gravelly; he definitely needed some water. Toji leans forward as you put on your stethoscope. Once it's positioned properly on your ears, you place the metal piece on Toji's back.

"Deep breath for me, Toji.”

The sound of his name leaving your perfectly glossed lips sent a wave of arousal through his body. His name has never sounded better. Toji takes a deep breath in as you instructed.

"Now, slowly exhale.”

As Toji exhales the big breath he just inhaled, you listen to his lungs for any sounds like crackling or wheezing. There is a faint crackle. You pull the stethoscope off and step back.

"There is a faint crackle in your lungs,” you inform him. "I'm going to hook you up to a second oxygen tank. We'll start with half a tank first and give you the rest if the crackling is still there.”

"Sounds good to me, mamas.” Toji says, leaning back in his chair.

Once making sure he's comfortable, you head out to fetch him a new oxygen tank and some water. You return shortly with a cup of iced water and a full oxygen tank. You hand Toji the styrofoam cup.

"Here, drink this. I'm sure you're parched after being inside that fire.”

It's almost comical watching his large, calloused hand wrap around the tiny styrofoam cup. The clear liquid sloshed around as he pulled it up to his scarred lips. While Toji chugs the water you gave him, you hook up his new tank, connecting it to the oxygen mask. Once he placed the cup down, you secured the mask on to his face. Tojl takes several deep breaths that seem to relieve some stress.

"So, what's it like to be a nurse?” He asks as he begins to relax.

"Long shifts. Most nights or mornings when I go home I immediately crash out for hours. However, helping save lives makes it all worth it.” You answer, filling out his chart again. "What's it like being a firefighter?”

"Dangerous. Some days are worse than others but it's exhilarating. I wouldn't have it any other way.” Toji grins.

Toji's grin seems almost feral, like he gets off the extreme danger that he faces every day. You look up at him.

"How do you get rid of all the stress when you got home at the end of the day?” You're genuinely curious since relaxing outside of sleeping has never been your strong suit. You can't even remember the last time you've gone out with friends, had a date, or brought someone home with you for unattached sex.

Toji’s broad, muscular shoulders lift as he shrugs but there's an amused smile on his face.

“Suppose the same way any man in his 30's does. Going out to a bar, drinking, and dirty sex.”

You weren't expecting that answer… or well, you weren't expecting him to be so honest about his bedroom activities. There's a smirk on Toji's face as if he can read the shock on your face. He probably can, he seems to be able to read you loud and clear. You clear your throat.

"What, uhm, what bar would you recommend in the area?” You asked, desperate to move the conversation in a different direction.

A deep chuckle, almost a husky sound, flutters from Toji's chest.

"The bar on 52nd. O'Hannigans. Plan on stopping by?”

"If I manage to find the time.”

"Sweetheart, you can't find time, you have to make it. Sometimes it's good to prioritize yourself. The two of us see a lot of fucking shit in our line of work; nice to go out and treat yourself once in a blue moon.”

Sounds awfully unlike him. You can't imagine him being this…well rounded.

"Plus, if you do manage to get yourself to that bar, I might just get a chance to have you in my bed…begging.”

Okay, that seems more like Toji even if you've only known him for an hour. And now you can't help the rushing heat engulfing your cheeks. He's inappropriate; makes it difficult to do your job.

"Bold of you to assume I'd let you take me home.” You counter, hoping the blush on your face wasn't too noticeable.

Toji grins, it's somehow more feral. “I mean we can definitely fuck around in the bathroom, doll. Doesn't really matter to me as long as I get to hear what pretty sounds you can make.”

You can't help smack his muscular arm; Toji chuckles, unfazed.

Eventually Toji is all better and ready to return to his job. You instructed him to be careful and not over exert himself, you didn't want the crackling in his lungs to return because he prematurely ran into another fire. As Toji makes his way to the door, he stops and leans down, his scarred lips almost brushing against your ear.

"See ya, doll." he gruffs out, "hope you don't keep me waiting too long. Dying to get my hands on this pretty fucking body.”

Before you're able to reply with some sarcastic, uninterested response, Toji leaves with a very cocky smirk displayed on his face like he won a prize. You huff softly, clutching your paperwork to your chest. Pushing a strand of your hair behind your ear, you watch Toji disappear before resuming your shift.

After your twenty hour shift, you went home and crashed like you knew you would. You didn't even change out of your scrubs or shower, just collapsed on your bed and passed out. Fortunately you were off today, so when you woke up you'd be able to do whatever you wanted to do. When you woke up, you had completely forgotten your conversation about O'Hannigans with Toji while you treated him until you saw a commercial on the television. It was just a little after six in the afternoon, not too late to go out but a part of you didn't want to go out tonight. Whether it was because you were tired or because you were afraid of seeing Toji again. He had caused a stir in your body that you've been ignoring.

However, you convinced yourself that you deserve a drink or two; so you pull yourself together and shower before getting dressed into something cute and cozy. You wore a pair of casual skinny jeans and a pale pink, long-sleeve, tight-fitted shirt.

The bar was packed when you got there, you almost turned around and went home. You sat at the end of the dimly lit bar away from everyone. You wished you could say you didn't look for Toji but you did. Your eyes scanned the crowded bar looking for the incredibly large man you treated in the hospital. You find him, it isn't hard either because he stands out like a sore thumb. He's sitting at a booth by himself drinking a glass of whiskey. You look away from him and towards the bartender who approaches you; you settle on a regular beer. Not exactly your favorite but it'll do. You drank alone, keeping your eyes ahead not wanting to stare at Toji or anyone too long.

"Must be my lucky fucking day,” a gruff voice said as Toji slid into the stool beside you. "Nurse Y/N, wasn't expecting you to actually come to O'Hannigans.”

"Well, it's like you said," you hum quietly, "gotta make time for yourself because time won't.”

He grinned while taking a long drink of his whiskey. You run your fingers through your hair, smiling as you take a drink of your beer. Toji looked at you again, but this time, he really looked at your taking in every curve, every rise and fall of your chest, every single move. He couldn't wait to get his fucking hands on you, if you'll let him.

So, you gonna take me up on my offer or do I gotta get on my knees?” Toji asks, meeting your gaze.

"What offer?" You inquire, crossing one leg over the other.

Toji grinned wider, "The one where I offered to take your pretty, little body home and taste ya.”

A deep blush crept up your neck and coated your face turning you as red as a tomato. He chuckles, loving the way you react to his shameless flirting. You swallow thickly. It's been such a long time since you indulged in pleasure, always so busy with nursing and saving lives; it was easy to say you placed your sex life on the back burner. Once again, you push the fallen strands of your hair behind your ear.

"I'm flattered, Tojl, but honestly I'm probably no good at it anymore. Been quite a while since I indulged.” The best thing you could do was be honest that you've lost your touch when it came to bedroom magic.

"You're telling that a girl like you can't manage to get some dick every once in a while?” Toji asked.

You roll your eyes. "It's not that I can't get laid. I've just been too busy so I've neglected that part of myself to focus on being a nurse.”

Toji chuckled as he gulped down another mouthful of whiskey. "Poor girl. You must really need a stress reliever.”

Maybe you did. Maybe Toji could be the one to help you find some type of stress relief. It was a very tempting offer especially considering Toji looked the way he did. You could almost drool at the sight of him; imagining his large body covering yours as he pounded into you. It was a dream come true that he was offering. Toji grinned at the way you were staring at him.

"C'mon doll, I can see the way you're looking at me. You want me just as bad as I want you. Don't fight it, come home with me tonight.”

You take another gulp of your beer while looking into his very sexy green eyes. You set the beer bottle down with a quiet thud.

“I suppose one night can't hurt.” You whispered.

He groans lowly, his eyes nearly rolling to the back of his head. "Such a good little girl.”

Toji took his wallet out of his back pocket and paid for both y'all's drinks before grabbing your wrist and hauling you to your feet. The two of you made your way out of the bar and to Toji’s vehicle. You look at him skeptically, questioning whether or not he was sober enough to drive. Toji looked down at you, smirking.

"Don't worry your pretty, little head, doll. One glass of whiskey is nowhere near enough to intoxicate me.”

Relief washes over you before you climb into the passenger's seat.

Toji doesn't waste any time as soon as the two of you arrive at his apartment and walk through the front door. Immediately, he lifts you up with one arm and pins you against the nearest wall, then smashes his lips against yours in a hungry, passionate, sloppy kiss. Toji digs his fingers into your thighs, and you wrap your arms around his neck, tangling your fingers in his black hair. It's softer than it looks, and you can't help but tighten your fingers. Toji growls in pleasure as he pulls your bottom lip with his teeth before shoving his tongue between your pretty lips. He held you easily, like you didn't weigh a damn thing.

As y'all's lips moved in sync, Toji moved his hands from your thighs and pulled off the shirt you had on to reveal the cute bra you had decided to wear. It pushed your breast up nicely and the slightest jostle caused your breast to jiggle. Toji buried his face into your cleavage, groaning at the feeling of your soft, plushy boobs against his bare skin. He ran his tongue up the valley of your chest, eliciting a moan from you that went straight to his cock. Another growl leaves his throat; his fingers worked expertly fast as he undid your bra. You could tell he wasn't new at this. Once your bra hit the ground next to your discarded shirt, Tojl removed his own shirt then captured one of your hardened nipples in his mouth. Your back arches on the wall you're pinned against, a moan filling the space around y'all.

"Fuckin’ perfect body.” Toji grins against your breasts. He looks up at you with those striking green eyes as he runs his pink tongue over your flesh. He runs his tongue up the valley between your boobs again, moving it to your neck and jawline. His hot breath hits your ear as he undoes the buttons and zipper on your jeans. "So fuckin’ pretty. Look at you ~ I bet you're already soaked beneath these cute little clothes of yours, huh? Bet that gorgeous cunt is just dripping for me, doll.”

A light whimper leaves your lips; you were definitely aroused, definitely soaking through the thin fabric of your panties. Toji grins at your whimper. He pulls off your jeans in one swift motion revealing your panties; the thin lacy fabric hugs your hips but what really catches his attention is the growing wet spot between your legs. Toji fell to his knees in front of you. He buried his face into the wet spot of your panties causing you to gasp; he inhaled your arousal and let out a deep groan. Your scent was like heaven to the huge, muscular man in front of you.

"Ya smell fuckin’ divine too.” He grumbles, causing you to instinctively push your thighs together.

Toji growls, his eyes narrowing up at your flushed face. Hauling you up, Toji carried you into the kitchen and set you down on the counter. Toji grabbed your throat, his callouses rough against your neck, then shoved his lips onto yours. The kiss is messy and heated; as the two of you kiss, he spreads your legs before ripping off your panties. The fabric is nothing more than shreds.

"Don't ever…and I mean ever…close those pretty fucking thighs as I'm tryin’ to worship that little pussy again,” Toji growls against your lips.

You nod your head, your eyes glassy with arousal. The cold air from his air conditioner lightly touches your soaked core now that he's got you completely exposed in front of him. Trji steps back, taking in the sight of your dripping cunt. Your arousal was starting to pool onto his countertop. Toji grins as he pulls a chair towards him and sits. You're confused.

"Show me how you pleasure yourself, mamas.” He says.

Embarrassment shrouds your glistening eyes. You've never touched yourself or played with yourself in front of anyone before, but the look in Toji’s eyes told you he wasn't going to change his mind. He wanted to watch you play with your pussy. swallowing thickly, you ran your middle fingers over your wet slit. Your thighs tremble from even the smallest amount of pleasure; it's been such a long time since you touched yourself too, always busy working. Toji leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he stares holes into you with those gorgeous green eyes. You swallow again.

"It's been a l-long time since I've touched myself,” you admit for some reason. All logic goes out the window when he looks at you.

Toji clicks his tongue as he shakes his head and stands up. You watch him as he approaches you, but his eyes are glued to your neglected pussy.

"A cunt this gorgeous should never be neglected, Y/N,” Toji scolds.

"It isn't like I've meant to,” you defend. "I'm just busy.”

It doesn't really seem like he's interested in your excuses. Instead, he removes your hand from your pussy then smacks your cunt causing a wet smacking sound. You yelp, your body jumping from the sudden impact; your thighs tremble from the pleasure.

"T-Toji…”

"Hush it girl.” He grumbles out causing you to whimper. "All I wanna hear from you are those cute moans as I make you feel good. Otherwise, I only wanna hear this pretty pussy tell me what she's craving!”

With that, Toji delivers another sharp, wet slap against your soft folds. A moan slips through your lips and your toes curl. Toji grins like he's found a gold mine.

"Good girl.”

Toji spits on your pussy before using his thick fingers to rub his saliva in with four juices. Your eyes flutter close and you moan. Toji looks up at your face taking in the pleasure ridden look you wore. He continues to massage your folds and clit before slipping his middle finger into your clenching hole.

"Holy shit.” You moan out, clenching around the singular digit.

"That's it, mamas.” Toji purrs, curling his finger up into that sweet spot. "Needy, little pussy. she's trying to suck me in.”

Another Moan leaves your glossy lips as you raise your hips to push Toji's finger deeper inside you. Toji chuckles, huskily as he watches you. He pulls his finger out before pushing it back in. There's a light squelching sound as he pushes his finger deeper inside you; your juices coat his knuckles as he continues to finger you with his middle finger. Your legs fall further apart in a welcoming gesture which Toji uses to slip a second finger into your tight hole. Another string of moans and whimpers leave your lips; your eyes were trained on his hand as he continued to fuck your cunt with his thick fingers. Toji used his other hand to grab your chin forcing you to look at him as he moved his fingers, his hand moving faster.

"Eyes on me, darlin'. Look at the man who's makin‘ ya come undone.” He chuckles.

Your toes curl, and you can feel your orgasm approaching you quickly; your eyes stay locked on his.

"It f-feels so good, T-Toji.” You mewled out.

"I know, baby.” he grins, speeding his fingers up. The squelching grows a bit as your orgasm teeters on the edge of exploding or staying at bay so you can enjoy the pleasure some more. "Come on, baby. Fucking cum for me, doll.”

Light pants leave your slightly parted lips. Sweat was coating your naked body. Toji curled his fingers inside you again and that pushed you over the edge. Your eyes rolled back. Noticing your orgasm coming, Toji moved his fingers faster. You reached your hand up and grabbed his shirt. Your nails graze his muscular body through the fabric as you cum. Toji disappeared from view as you see white from the intensity of your orgasm.

"Oh my God!” You screamed out, rolling your head back until you were facing the ceiling in his kitchen.

"Good fucking girl.” Toji growls; he pulls his fingers from inside you then brings them up to his lips. He wraps his lips around his fingers, tasting your cum. A deep, husky groan leaves his lips as you watch him. The taste of your cum on his tongue is addicting like cocaine is to a drug addict or alcohol is to an alcoholic. He licked your juices off completely before pulling them out, his saliva replacing your cum. With the same hand, he grabs your chin and forces his lips on yours again. The taste of yourself coating your own tongue as he swaps spit with you one more.

When the two of you pull away from each other, Toji pulls you off the counter by your wrist and forces you down to your knees by pushing on your shoulder. As you position yourself properly on your knees in front of him, he undoes his belt and jeans pulling out the longest and thickest cock you've ever seen. Your eyes widen slightly at the sheer size of him. Toji guides his cock to your lips, tapping the angry red tip against your lips. You could take his thick precum that he dabbed onto your lips, your tongue darting out to taste the salty substance. Toji chuckles.

"Open up, doll.”

He doesn't have to tell you twice, your mouth instantly falling open. Toji pushes the tip of his cock into your mouth, a deep groan leaving his lips as soon as he feels your tongue brushing against the slit that was thinly coated in his precum. His breathing started getting heavier with each inch that he continued to push past your lips. Toji's eyes were hooded with lust.

"Wider, Y/N.” He's demanding when he uses your first name.

You open your mouth wider for him and he pushes his cock deeper into your mouth. He tangles his fingers into your hair, guiding your head further down until your nose is pressed against his neatly trimmed, black pubic hair. The hair tickles your nose causing your face to scrunch up a bit to stop the tickling. Toji throws his head back, his hands tightening in your hair as a deep groan leaves his lips.

"Goddamn,” He groans out; his vision blurred with spots of white from the pleasure. "Tight fuckin’ throat, doll,”

Toji pulls his hips back, a soft gasp hitting you as you take a deep breath in just in time as he slams his hips forward again. His large cock being swallowed by your throat; out of reflex, you swallow around him making your throat constrict around him. Toji lets out another groan as he starts moving his hips to fuck your pretty, little mouth. With hooded eyes, Toji stares down at you, watching your glossy, spit covered lips stretch to accommodate his size. You hummed and moaned around him causing his hips to buck forward completely out of rhythm.

"That's it. Fuckin' take it. Open wider ~” Toji draws out, one hand leaving your hair to grip your jaw wanting you to loosen up a bit. You relaxed your throat and jaw, letting your jaw go slack so you could open wider for him. There are tears glistening in your eyes from the stretch your throat and jaw had to endure to fit him. It isn't painful, in fact, you're loving it. Toji growls deep in his throat as he begins to move faster.

"Just like that, doll,” Toji pants out, never stopping his movements. His hand is tightening in your hair as he wraps the strands into his balled up fist. He uses it to his advantage, guiding you on his dick harshly. "Gonna make me cum, fuck, doll.”

A swell of pride blossoms in your chest as he declares that he's about to cum. Saliva drips down your chin as your mouth waters at the thought of swallowing his cum.

"Eager slut.” Toji grins, his abs clenching; he can tell from the drooling and the desperate look on your face that you want to taste his cum. You whine around him. "All of it, ya hear me? I want ya to drink all of it, don't waste a single fucking drop.”

As soon as you nod that pretty head for him, Toji shoves his cock down your throat one last time before thick ropes of cum glide down your throat. Because you want to impress him, you swallow every last drop. He grins. "Perfect little slut.” Toji pants.

He doesn't give you a chance to catch your breath. Instead, he hauls you to your feet and kisses you again. The taste of your saliva and his cum coating his taste buds. Toji picks you up, securing your legs around his muscular body, then carries you to his bedroom. Your body bounces as Toji tosses you down onto his bed; he rips his shirt off completely revealing his attractive body littered with scars from being a firefighter. Now Toji is completely naked just like you. You keep yourself propped up with your elbows staring at his incredible body. Toji crawls into the bed and on top of you; he's now towering over you with his famous grin plastered on his face. Your chest rises and falls heavily from arousal and exertion but you don't want this night to end. Toji pushes your knees to your chest, throwing your legs over his broad shoulders, as he pushes you into the meanest mating press you've ever experienced. This position left you feeling exposed and completely opened for him but that was the point. Toji pushes his hard body against yours, effectively pinning you down. He drags the tip of his still bulging cock against your wet folds; your body trembles beneath his.

With no warning, Toji slams into you with one powerful thrust that makes you see stars instantly. Your tight cunt clenching around him causes you to feel every part of his cock dragging along your inner walls. You dig your nails into his biceps that are caging you in.

"Oh fuck!” You cry out.

Toji keeps up the brutal pace; pulling out almost all the way before slamming right back into your tight cunt. His eyes never leave your face, watching pleasure contort your delicate features as he fucks you. The mixture of sounds coming from you…the squelching from your lewd cunt as well as your needy moans…only serve to spur him on further. Toji's heavy thighs smacked against the underside of your thighs filling his bedroom with the sound of skin hitting against skin. Each thrust causes your quivering, dripping pussy to clench tighter around him earning a satisfied grunt.

"Oh God, T-Toji,” you manage to mran out.

Toji slams into you faster, harder, his entire bed smacking against the wall from how hard he's going.

"Bet you're fucking loving this,” Toji grunts out. "Probably been waiting for someone to properly fuck this tight pussy, huh? Neglectin’ something so damn perfect because you were 'busy’ but really, you just needed a real man to fuck you, right, ma?”

A moan leaves your lips, eyes rolled back as he keeps drilling his cock into you. You swear you can feel him touching your cervix but you're unsure.

"W-was busy.” You protest with a lewd whimper.

"Can never be too busy to--fucking hell--to take care of this perfect fucking pussy.” Toji growls, his hips smacking recklessly against the back of your thighs. "But don't you worry your slutty, little head…I'll give you just want ya need.”

Toji, keeping you pinned into a lewd mating press, snakes his hand into your hair fisting the soft strands as he grips your neck with the other hand as his hips move faster. Your eyes watered as tears slipped down your face.

"Oh my fucking God!” You screamed out; pleasure rippling through your entire body. Your thighs tremble with each smack from his own hips and thighs. "Right t-there! Fuck!

His cock drags against your velvety walls. Toji grunts, his teeth clench as a string of curses leave his lips.

“Atta fucking girl.Takin’ this dick like a real pro.” Toji grumbles horsley; his already deep, gravelly voice even deeper. Toji pulled his cock all the way out before roughly slamming into your dripping heat again. The sudden thrust caused your sloppy pussy to clench around his cock. Toji yanked your hair harder so that you were making eye contact with him. He wanted to stare into your glistening eyes as you came on his cock.

Toji released your throat and gave your spit covered cheek a smack, not enough to hurt you. However, when Toji smacked your cheek, your pussy fluttered around him. Toji grinned.

"Slutty girl,” he groaned, smacking your face again, "Slutty, little girl. Love gettin’ smacked too, huh? Slutty fucking bitch loves getting manhandled.”

Your eyes rolled back. "Toji ~ I'm gonna…c-cum.” You slur out, the pleasure making you feel drunk.

"H-hold it,” Toji growls out in a stutter, grinding his hips against yours while continuing to pound into you vigorously. He didn't want this to end, knowing that as soon as you finished he'd be right there behind you filling you with his load.

You whined desperately, it became increasingly difficult to hold back your much needed orgasm as Toji continued to slam into that perfect spot. Toji knew what he was doing, he knew he was making it practically impossible for you to hold your orgasm in like he had demanded.

"Toji p-please!” You begged, your impending orgasm causing your toes to curl. Drool dripped down your chin, your glossy lips parted. Toji hooked his thick, calloused thumb on your lip brushing it against the inside of your cheek. Toji pushed your knees harder into your chest, his feet practically digging into his soft mattress as his thrust got rougher and harder.

"Cum.” He growls, sweat thinly coating his muscular body. "Fucking cum, Y/N.”

It's a demand, and you're happy to oblige letting pleasure take over. A loud, pornographic moan leaves your lips as your cunt flutters around Toji's dick. Toji yanks your hair, revealing your neck to him. As you cum on his cock, he continues to slam into you in a sloppy way. He leans down and bites down on your neck.

"That's i-it, that's fuckin’ it, doll.” he growls out, his body jerking as he got closer to his own orgasm. "Fuckin’ squeezing me so tight, ma. Suckin’ me in. Gonna take m-my fuckin’ cum like a good little whore, yeah?”

You nod dumbly, your body twitching with unadulterated need and desperation.

"Words or I won't give ya anything.” Toji taunts, never stopping his brutal thrust.

Your head was spinning, your heart was pounding against your rib cage, it was difficult to find your words. But you manage.

"Please, please cum inside me. I need it.” You definitely needed it; at least that's what you kept telling yourself so you wouldn't stop Toji from potentially knocking you up.

Your begging pushes Toji over the edge; he slams into you one last time, a deep groan leaving his throat as thick ropes of his cum paint your insides white. Toji's hips stutter as he grinds into you wanting to be even deeper, needing to be deeper. It was like he was trying to knock you up. Like it was a mission.

After a few moments, the two of you come down from your highs still pressed against each other. Your body was sticky with sweat and drool, Toji's cum plugged deep into you by his now softening cock. Both of you were still panting; Toji releases your damp hair, pressing soft, open mouth kisses along your jaw and neck. You close your eyes, taking a shaky breath; all that pent up stress is gone.

"Feel better?” Toji grins against your sticky neck.

A soft giggle leaves your lips and nod. "Much better. Thank you, Toji.”

"Any fuckin’ time, doll.”

[jungwnies]

wreckage - charles leclerc (3/4)

୨ৎ : pairing : charles leclerc x wife!reader ୨ৎ : synopsis : as charles fights for his life, his wife faces the hardest decision: let go or fight for him. a small miracle gives hope for recovery.

୨ৎ : genre : emotional fiction, very... very... emotional, again ୨ৎ : tws : car accident/injury, arguments/conflict, anxiety/panic, trauma, medical trauma. ୨ৎ : wc : 1676

part one | part two | part three | part four

They say that the hardest part of love is knowing when to let go. The decision to hold on is easy—it’s the decision to release, to trust that the other person will be okay without you, that’s the hard part.

You’ve been sitting in the sterile, white hospital room for hours, each minute feeling like a year. Charles’s body is hooked up to so many machines, monitors flashing with numbers that seem foreign to you. His face, once so full of life, now looks pale, bruised, and still. They told you to prepare yourself for the worst, but you haven’t let yourself believe it. Not yet.

Not while there's still hope.

You’re not even sure what you're hoping for anymore. Some miracle, maybe. But deep down, you know the odds. They’ve been giving you the numbers—stats you can’t quite process, numbers you can’t make sense of. His condition is critical, and they’ve told you, over and over again, that his survival chances are slim. His organs are struggling, his internal injuries severe. The brain scans were grim at first, showing little to no activity.

But you can’t let yourself fall into that darkness. Not yet.

The room feels too cold, too empty.

"How are his stats?" you ask quietly, though you already know the answer.

The nurse glances at you, her face trying to remain neutral. "Not good. His heart rate’s been fluctuating. His oxygen levels aren’t improving, either. We’re doing what we can, but his body’s fighting against us." She hesitates, looking back at the monitors. "We’re not sure how much longer we can keep him stable."

You nod, feeling the weight of every word, but you can’t give up. Not yet.

Minutes turn into hours. You stay by his side, holding his hand, whispering to him. Every time you speak, you tell him how much you love him, how much you need him to come back. You’re not sure if he can hear you, but it doesn’t matter. You need him to know.

And then, just as you’re beginning to feel the overwhelming weight of your decision, something unexpected happens.

The steady beep of the heart monitor suddenly begins to accelerate, growing faster and faster. You freeze, your heart pounding in your chest. Something’s wrong.

The nurse rushes over, her face pale as she watches the monitor. "His heart rate’s spiking," she mutters. "It’s too fast. His blood pressure’s dropping."

The room erupts into action as doctors rush in, all moving in synchronized chaos. You’re shoved aside as they begin adjusting the equipment, calling out orders, but your mind goes blank. You try to focus, but it feels like everything is spinning.

"His stats are crashing," one doctor says, his voice tense. "We need to stabilize him now."

"Is it time?" you ask, barely able to speak over the noise. "Should we—"

But before you can finish, a loud, sharp sound cuts through the room—the unmistakable alarm of a failing heartbeat. The doctor turns toward you, his eyes filled with grim determination. "I’m afraid we’ve reached the point where his body might not be able to hold on much longer."

Your breath hitches in your throat. Everything feels like it’s slipping away. You squeeze Charles’s hand tighter, as if willing him to come back to you.

But then, as if the universe is playing some cruel game, the chaos calms, just for a moment.

The alarms start to fade into silence, and the doctor presses his fingers to the side of Charles’s neck, feeling for a pulse. Your heart lurches, praying for any sign of life. The seconds feel like hours.

Suddenly, the doctor looks up, his eyes widening. "Wait… there’s something." He leans in, checking the monitors again. "His blood pressure’s stabilizing. His heart rate’s slowing down to a more normal rhythm."

You barely dare to breathe, your eyes never leaving Charles’s face.

The nurse who’s been working on him moves closer, shaking her head in disbelief. "It’s like he’s coming back."

You don’t know what to think. The last few minutes have felt like an eternity, and now, you’re afraid to believe it. "What’s happening?" you whisper, your voice trembling.

The doctor looks up at you, and for the first time, there’s a flicker of hope in his eyes. "It seems like he’s fighting. His body’s responding… it’s too early to say for sure, but this is a good sign."

You stare at Charles, trying to process the sudden shift. Is this the miracle you’ve been waiting for, or just another false hope?

The minutes stretch on, and then, just as you begin to allow yourself a small breath of relief, the monitor lets out another shrill, jagged alarm—the unmistakable sound of a fatal arrhythmia. A shocking wave of panic shoots through you as the machine flashes with an erratic, spiking rhythm.

"V-fib!" The doctor shouts, his voice urgent. "We’re losing him. Get the defibrillator ready."

The nurse scrambles to prepare the machine, and you feel your stomach drop out. This can't be happening. Not now.

"Charles!" you whisper, gripping his hand harder, your eyes welling up. "Please."

The doctors are already on him, paddles in hand, but it feels like time is standing still. Your eyes dart from the monitors to Charles’s face, feeling as if your heart has stopped with his. Then, the shock.

The force of the defibrillator sends a jolt through his chest, and the monitor flickers. Nothing.

You close your eyes briefly, bracing for the worst.

"Again," the doctor orders, and another round of defibrillation. This time, there’s a slight blip, a change. It’s not much, but it’s something.

The doctor presses the paddles down once more, adjusting the settings. "One more time. We need him back."

The seconds stretch as they try again, and then finally, the heart monitor begins to beat again—slowly, but steadily.

"Heartbeat stable," the nurse breathes.

Your breath escapes your lips in a shaky exhale. You look at Charles again, feeling a rush of relief flood through you as the panic of the past few minutes settles into a wary calm. But it’s still not over. His fight isn’t done.

Just as you think the worst is behind you, Charles’s mother bursts into the room, her eyes frantic as she surveys the scene. Her voice cracks as she calls out his name, "Charles!"

You feel a flash of guilt. You should’ve called her sooner, but there had been no time. The doctors had been focused, and you’d been too overwhelmed to think clearly.

You step aside, giving her space, but you can’t look away from the man you love, still unconscious, his body fighting to survive.

The doctor steps over to you both. "We’re stabilizing him, but we’re not out of the woods yet. We need to make some decisions."

Charles’s mother looks at you, her face pale with concern. She reaches for your hand. "Whatever it is… I trust you. You’re his wife, and you know him better than anyone. What do you think we should do?"

You swallow hard, your voice barely above a whisper. "I… I don’t know what to think. I don’t know what to do. He’s… he���s still fighting. But we’ve been here for so long, and I don’t know how much longer we can wait."

Her gaze softens. "You don’t have to do this alone. I trust you. We’re a family. We make these decisions together." She squeezes your hand tightly. "But if you think there’s still a chance for him, then we have to keep fighting too."

You look back at Charles, uncertainty and fear clouding your judgment. How do you even begin to make this decision? His body is failing him, but his heart—his spirit—is still trying.

"Let’s give him more time," you decide, your voice shaking with fear but firm with resolve. "But if his chances are too slim… if we’re just keeping him alive on machines, then we need to think about letting him go."

The doctor nods solemnly. "We’ll run more tests. But if things don’t improve soon, we may need to consider other options."

As the minutes pass, the machines continue to monitor Charles’s every movement, every breath, and the room remains tense, every decision weighed in silence. But then, something begins to shift.

"His blood pressure’s coming back up," the nurse announces quietly. "And… there’s more brain activity. His oxygen levels are improving too."

You feel like you might be dreaming. "Is this really happening?"

The doctor steps forward, shaking his head in disbelief. "I’ve never seen anything like this. His vitals are stabilizing. I think… I think he’s fighting."

"Fighting?" you ask, still not quite believing what you’re hearing.

The nurse, who’s been checking his monitors, speaks softly, her voice a little hopeful. "He knows you’re here. I think he’s holding on for you."

And in that moment, you realize: you’re not alone in this fight. Charles is fighting for you too.

The room fills with a cautious optimism, but the road ahead is still uncertain. Will he wake up? Will his organs continue to improve?

Only time will tell.

Then, the unthinkable happens.

"His breathing," the nurse says, voice shaky, "it’s improving. He’s trying to breathe on his own. We can extubate him. He doesn't need the tube anymore."

You stare, wide-eyed, as they carefully begin the process of removing the intubation tube, your heart in your throat.

Everything changes in a moment.

There’s still a long way to go, but for the first time in hours, you feel a flicker of hope.

He’s still here. And he’s fighting.

But you know deep down that the next few days will be critical.

You stand there, feeling like you’ve crossed a line between despair and hope. But Charles has always been a fighter. And if he’s fighting, so will you.

For him. For the life you built together. For love.

You look down at him, and the smallest of smiles begins to tug at your lips.

Maybe… just maybe… he’ll make it through.

And for now, that's enough.

taglist: @emryb , @htpssgavi , @aleatorio1234 , @ayap4paya , @prttylight , @meadhbhcavanagh , @iluvnewtie , @hiireadstuff , @armystay89 , comment to be added

© 2024 jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.

[alloftheimaginesblog]

holding on {alex karev}

plot: you and alex aren't friends but he's the person that sits by your hospital bed day and night until you wake up.

character: alex karev (early seasons) x reader

The steady beeping of the various machines was something that Alex had grown tired of two days ago, the machine's volumes had been turned to 0 but his anxious eyes kept flickering to them every few seconds just to be sure. The background noise of the hospital was something he was used to and it was an oddly comforting sound. Now, the silence of being in the room with you had been nice at first but now that he was here, with you, waiting... just waiting... the silence was unnerving him.

He tapped his foot, checking the clock on the wall. Bailey should've been here by now, she promised him that she'd check on you every two hours. She was late. Anger surged through his body causing his heart to pound and his fists to clench.

"You're such an idiot," he could hear you scolding him in his mind, "if you just stopped dealing with your problems with sheer anger then maybe, maybe people would actually start to like you."

He scoffed.

You and him had hardly been friends. You and the rest of Bailey's interns were the best of friends, all living together in Mer's mom's house so why wasn't George or Izzie or Cristina or Mer here? Why was it Alex? That's all the four of them had been whispering about. Cristina asked Alex, Izzie asked Alex... hell, Bailey even asked Alex. Alex had ignored each of their questions and instead gave some snarky asshole comment with an eye roll. Alex didn't even know why he was here - why he'd purposefully demanded the week off to be by your bedside day and night sleeping on a camping bed with the scratchiest sheets in the world. He didn't know and yet, here he was.

You were annoying. You annoyed him. But since the news of the accident and since you'd been in a coma, Alex couldn't stop thinking about the way you laughed as you teased him. He couldn't get one specific moment out of his head.

You and Alex had been working on a case together - much to your dismay - and Alex had opened up slightly, letting you see that he was much more than what you previously thought.

"So... you're not just an asshole with the emotional range of a teaspoon, who knew?" You helped yourself to the bar stool next to Karev. Joe glanced at you, asking if you wanted your usual to which you nodded.

Alex rolled his eyes, "Whatever."

There was silence for a few seconds before you tried again, "I know you have this hard 'I don't care' exterior," you started, "and I know it's probably because of some past trauma in your life, Karev - believe me we've all got some shit - but..."

"Are you gonna keep giving me a stupid high school girl pep talk or are you gonna shut up and drink?"

It was your turn to roll your eyes now, "Joe, another round please."

As Joe poured the two of you more drinks, Alex sighed and looked at you, "Thanks," he murmured quietly, "I'm not- I don't..." he cleared his throat, "I don't mean to be an asshole all the time... I don't really know... Social shit isn't really my thing."

"Now who's acting like an emotional high school girl?" You teased. Alex laughed, a genuine smile stretched onto his face. Yeah... maybe he wasn't so bad after all.

So after the accident, Alex stayed.

It was then Bailey strode in, chart in hand, "Karev," she said glancing up for a second, "you look like hell. Don't you think you should go home get a proper sleep? Take a damn shower?" She could see the worry in him, she could see how stressed out he was; the dark circles under his eyes, his nails chewed down. Alex might not even know it yet but he cared about you.

"I'm staying," he said with a nod standing to look over her shoulder at your chart, "Any updates?"

"You tell me, you're the one who's been here since she got admitted." Bailey moved to you, turning the volume up on the machines, checking your levels.

"Oxygen levels were a little low at 3am, managed to level them out... No issues since." He nodded, arms crossed with a hand rubbing at his jawline, "Why hasn't she woken up yet, Bailey? She should be-"

"Karev," Bailey said, voice strong, "Go get yourself a cup of coffee, now."

"I don't-"

"Now, Karev. Let me do my damn job and stop hanging over me. Coffee."

With a few harsh words which made Bailey surprisingly laugh, Alex stormed out of your hospital room, storming past O'Malley and Stevens who had come to check in with Bailey on how you were doing.

Bailey leaned down closed to you, "If you die, god help us all... that boy..." she looked to the door where Alex had left from, "he'll be lost forever. So don't you dare, you hear me?"

The coffee machine was a minute's walk away from your room so Alex would know if anything were to happen to you, he would know but he kept checking over his shoulder anyway just in case. He was exhausted, he couldn't remember the last time he'd drank or even the last time he'd eaten. You had consumed him for the last two days; making sure that you were okay was his first priority.

He stopped at the coffee machine punching the button for a crappy black coffee that he wasn't going to drink anyway, "Come on," he grumbled as the cup dropped and the coffee began to pour in slowly, "Damn piece of crap machine, hurry the hell up!" He yelled suddenly, slamming his fist into the plastic front. Around him, people stared but he didn't care. When the coffee finally stopped, he pulled the cup out when he heard it.

"Code blue! I need a crash cart! Room 2203!" It was Bailey. It was you.

Boiling hot coffee splashed over the floor, the cup dropped and on the ground as Alex Karev took off running.

His heart pounded, usually the thrill was the thing he loved the most but this wasn't a thrill, no, this was dread. When he burst into your room, the first thing he heard was, "Clear!" and heard the noise of the defibrillator.

"What's going on?!" He yelled over the chaos.

"Get him outta here!" Bailey yelled, "Charge to 200! Get him outta here, O'Malley!"

George tried but a determined Alex was a strong Alex. He resisted George's grip, shoving him back every chance he tried to take him out. It got to the point that George gave up, "Dr Bailey!" He exclaimed, hopelessly as Alex barged to your bedside. Bailey couldn't do anything, she was busy trying to save your life, she couldn't deal with Karev as well so she let him be.

"Don't you dare die on me," Alex hissed, eyes flooding with tears, "don't you dare. Can't do that to me, (y/n). Can't have me sitting here waiting for two days to just die on me-" he looked to Bailey, "Save her... please."

Bailey's eyes met Alex's and she found a lump in her throat, "You hear him?" She asked you as the paddles charged, "don't you dare die on us, (y/n)." With one final shock, the monitor started to beep again, "Heart rate is coming back up," she said with a relieved sigh, "Thank the Lord. Levels are stabilising."

Alex collapsed into the chair at your bedside, hand clamped around yours, as his eyes closed, letting the relief wash over him. You were alive; you were stable.

"What- what caused it?"

Bailey shook her head, "Don't know, levels were fine but as soon as you left the room they started to drop so do me a favour, Karev," she looked pointedly at him, "don't leave this room again." Normally he would've bit back, said a comment about her forcing him out but instead, he just nodded falling back into his chair, hand still in yours, "I'll check every hour, okay? You page me immediately, got it?" Again, he nodded and then the room cleared out.

Alex didn't turn the monitors down, he needed to hear the steady beep to know that you were okay, you were alive and you were breathing. For the last three hours that he'd sat here, he had prayed to every god he could remember the name of - he didn't know if it counted but even started praying to some Greek Gods as well. Why have God in the title if it doesn't count? His hand was still firmly in yours.

Bailey had checked five times in the three hours, checking on you but also on him. She brought him a soda, a sandwich and a muffin and didn't leave until he'd drained half the can and eaten one of the sandwiches. He hadn't realised how hungry he was until he'd started eating, he devoured the rest of meal once she'd left. You were still stable but you weren't awake yet. Bailey was optimistic but Alex wasn't. He was dreading the worst, expecting your levels to become unstable again but as he was dosing off, he felt your hand twitch in his.

He shot up, "(y/n)?" He asked staring at your hand and then at you and much to his relief, your eyes began to flutter open. He let out a sound that was half laugh, half sob. Utter relief crashed over him, "You're awake," he grinned, "you're actually awake."

"A-Alex?" You croaked.

"Here," he said gently as he grabbed a plastic cup and straw and filled it with water from the jug on your bedside unit, "Drink up. How you feeling?"

"Sore."

"Multiple ruptured organs and a few broken bones'll do that to you," Alex teased with a smile. You noticed his hand was still in yours, warm and strong. He saw your eyes narrow at your joined hands and he was quick to pull his back despite everything inside him not wanting to, "I- I'm gonna page Bailey, you drink up." He helped you take the water and left. He was just outside, close enough to make sure that you were still safe - still alive.

It was as he left you looked around the room and you noticed the camping cot which was set up on the floor next to your bed. You frowned. Someone had been staying here. Was it... no, it couldn't have been Alex; Alex hated you.

Your thoughts were cut off by Bailey bursting into your room, "Oh thank the Lord," she grinned, "it's good to see you awake. You scared us." As Bailey checked you over, Alex returned to the seat next to you. Bailey saw your confused expression seeing him sat there, normal clothes not working, "Karev," she said, "go and get (y/n) a sandwich, will you? She's hungry." Alex went to argue, to tell Bailey she told him not to leave your room but Bailey's pointed look made him stop and nod. He left a second later giving you one last worried look, "She's fine now go."

You looked up at Bailey who sighed and looked down at you, "You had that boy scared to death, you know."

"Who? Alex?!"

Bailey nodded, "You're not the only one who's surprised. As soon as you were admitted he was here. It was his day off and he was here. Soon as you got outta surgery he was set up in your room. He hasn't left since Tuesday."

You looked down to the cot next to you, "He's been here the whole time?"

Bailey nodded, "I don't know what's going on between the two of you - if anything - but I'd say that there's something." Your frown deepened and Bailey smiled, "Just... be patient with him."

When Alex came back, Bailey gave you a secret nod with a knowing smile before she left promising to come check on you every hour and to not dare think about going back into a coma otherwise she would kill you. "I'm a doctor, I know how to save people but I know how to kill them too."

"Hey," Alex said as he placed a sandwich and soda on the unit beside your bed, "You okay?"

You nodded, finding yourself rather overwhelmed and touched by his actions. He - Alex Karev - had stayed by your side since the accident. What did that mean? What did Dr Bailey mean? You nodded quickly, "Yeah," you said softly, "just tired."

Alex puffed out a long breath as he sat in the seat next to your bed, "Yeah, you must be. Gave me- gave us all a fright."

Silence fell and the two of you fell into the comfort of the sounds of the hospital. You sipped at the soda Alex had brought before curiosity got the better of you, "Alex... why did you stay with me?"

You could've sworn his cheeks flushed a darker shade of pink but he rubbed his hands over his tired looking face so you couldn't have been sure, "Hell if I know," he muttered, "it's not like we're friends but... I didn't want you to be alone. You're the only one that's almost like a friend and... I dunno." He shrugged, "I don't really understand it myself." Maybe there was something deeper lurking under the surface but he didn't know. That was something you'd have to navigate together, "I know you'd have probably preferred Cristina or Mer-"

You took his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, "Thank you, Alex," you whispered, "for everything. Thank you." Now, this time you could see the tips of his ears go pink. You smiled, "Now when are you going to shower cause boy you are looking rough-"

"Shut up!" Alex rolled his eyes but he laughed with you and for once, it felt nice to joke around with him. It felt normal. You didn't know what was going to happen but you somehow knew that he would be beside you, figuring out this crazy journey together and somehow, that made it a little less scary.

[mattsobvimyfav]

unknown

Y/N has always played it safe—balancing her job as a pediatric nurse, and her careful lifestyle. But one night out with her friend, Jordan, changes everything. When she meets Matt and Chris—two dangerous, enigmatic brothers—she’s drawn into a world she doesn’t belong in. But the more she resists, the harder they pulls her in.

p.2 pt. 3

chapter 1

Boston in the early summer has a certain charm—sunlight reflecting off the Charles River, the distant hum of traffic blending with the laughter of people enjoying the warmth after months of bitter cold. It’s home, familiar and comforting.

At twenty-two, I’ve checked off one of the biggest milestones of my life—graduating nursing school. Now, I’m officially a pediatric nurse at one of the best children’s hospitals in the country, something I’ve worked tirelessly for. My days are filled with tiny hands gripping mine, sleepy smiles, and moments of both heartbreak and hope. It’s exhausting, but I love it. Every shift reminds me why I chose this path—to help, to heal, to be there for the little ones who need it most.

When I’m not at the hospital, I spend my time buried in books, or going out shopping with friends, But if I’m not reading, chances are, I’m with the family I’ve worked for since I was eighteen.

The Moore family hired me as their nanny fresh out of high school, and somehow, four years later, I never left. Their two kids—Owen, now five, and Ella, two—have become like little siblings to me. I’ve been there for scraped knees, school projects, and bedtime stories, and even with my busy schedule, I can’t bring myself to give it up entirely. Their parents understand; they know I care too much to walk away completely.

My life is a carefully balanced routine—nursing shifts, nannying, the occasional days with friends, and nights spent curled up watching my favorite show or reading my favorite book. And yet, despite how full my days are, there’s a small part of me that wonders if I’m missing something.

Thursday night was another long one. I worked the second shift from 7 PM to midnight in the respiratory section of the children's hospital, a place where the air always seemed just a little heavier. The unit was full—kids battling asthma flare-ups, pneumonia, and RSV, their small chests rising and falling with labored breaths.

My first patient of the night was a five-year-old girl named Lily, who had been admitted earlier that day with severe asthma. Her mother hovered anxiously by her bedside, asking a million questions as I checked Lily’s oxygen levels and adjusted her nebulizer. I did my best to reassure her, keeping my tone calm and steady. It wasn’t lost on me how terrifying it must be to watch your child struggle to breathe.

After Lily, I moved on to a toddler with RSV, his tiny frame looking even smaller beneath the tangle of tubes and wires. His parents had stepped out for a quick break, so I sat with him for a few minutes, rubbing small circles on his back as he dozed in and out of restless sleep. Moments like these made the exhaustion worth it—being able to offer even the smallest bit of comfort.

The night continued in a blur of vitals checks, medication rounds, and hushed conversations with worried parents. Around 10:30 PM, I grabbed a quick snack from my bag, savoring the brief moment of stillness before heading back into the harsh reality.

By the time midnight rolled around, my feet ached, and my body begged for sleep. But as I clocked out and stepped into the cool Boston air, I felt something else too—gratitude. For the kids who fought so hard, for the parents who loved so fiercely, and for the privilege of being there to help, even in the smallest of ways.

It was now Friday morning, and I can already feel the excitement bubbling up inside me. The week has felt so long, but today is all about taking a break with my friend, Jordan.

I get up, stretch, and head to my closet, trying to figure out what to wear. After a moment of hesitation, I grab my white cardigan. Underneath, I slip on a black cropped tank top that I know goes with pretty much anything. Then, I pick out my favorite khaki mini skirt. I pair everything with my white converse.

I grab my phone, scroll through a few messages, and decide to head out early. The morning air feels nice, so I make my way to the front steps of my apartment and sit down, legs crossed. It’s quiet outside, the kind of peaceful stillness you only get in the morning. I take a deep breath, enjoying the calm.

I’m just scrolling through my phone when I hear the sound of an engine approaching. Looking up, I see Jordan’s bright blue Jeep Wrangler coming down the street, turning the corner as it makes its way straight to me.

I smile as she parks, rolling down the window. "Ready for our girl's day?" she calls out, her grin already spreading across her face.

"Always," I reply, jumping to my feet, grabbing my bag, and heading over to the Jeep.

I hop into the passenger seat of Jordan's Jeep. She pulls away from the curb and grins at me, her hands gripping the wheel.

"So, what’s the plan for today?" I ask, turning to face her.

"First stop for breakfast. Then, I need to make a quick pit stop, then go shopping" she says with a mischievous smile.

I raise an eyebrow. "A pit stop? What are we talking about?"

Jordan just shrugs, her grin widening. "You'll see. But first, we need food. I’m starving."

I laugh, the anticipation building as we head to our favorite café in town. It’s a little spot that serves the best avocado toast and strong coffee, perfect for getting our day started. We pull into the parking lot, and I can already smell the rich aroma of fresh coffee drifting out as we walk in.

The café is quiet, the morning rush already over. We grab a table by the window, and Jordan places our usual order—avocado toast with eggs and two iced lattes. I don’t mind—she always knows exactly what I’ll want. As we wait for our food, we chat about the week, and was in the middle of telling her about my patience last night when I noticed a couple of people at a nearby table glancing over at us.

Jordan notices too and raises an eyebrow. "What’s going on? You seem a little tense today."

I shrug, "I don’t know. Just feels like people stare at us sometimes."

She smirks. "Y/N, we clash pretty hardcore. I mean, look at us."

I roll my eyes, though I know she’s right. I can’t deny it—there’s something about the way I carry myself that screams "basic good girl." and she’s the blueprint definition of grunge.

Jordan nudges me, snapping me out of my thoughts. "Relax. They’re just looking. Let them." We both laugh just as our food arrives. 

"Alright," Jordan says as she sips her coffee, "after we eat, I’ve got to make that stop."

After breakfast, we slide back into the Jeep, the warm feeling of a good meal still lingering. 

"Get comfortable," she tells me, glancing over with a half-smile. "It’s gonna be a little bit of a drive."

I nod, still curious about the “pit stop” she mentioned earlier. The roads blur by as we drive through neighborhoods I don’t recognize, the buildings getting more worn down as we leave the busier parts of town. Finally, she pulls up in front of a rundown house on the edge of a quiet street. The place looks like it’s seen better days—paint peeling off the siding, the yard overgrown with weeds. 

Jordan parks the Jeep and sends a quick text, her fingers flying across her phone. I glance at her, feeling a strange unease settle in my chest.

"Who are we meeting here?" I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.

Jordan looks at me for a second, the serious look returning to her eyes. "Just stay calm. It’s no big deal, I swear."

We wait in silence for a moment before the door to the house creaks open. Two guys, who look nearly identical, step out onto the porch. They’re dressed in baggy sweatpants and wife beaters, they glance to their left and right before walking over.

Jordan rolls down her window as one of them heads straight for her side of the Jeep. The other boy makes his way to my window, giving me a once-over before leaning against the door.

"Hey" Jordan says coolly, and I watch as they exchange a few words. I can’t make out everything they’re saying, but I know it’s about weed. I always knew Jordan smoked but she had never brought me to pick up her supply.

The guy by my window with dark hair and a cocky grin—glances at me, sizing me up. "Who’s this pretty little thing?" he asks, his voice smooth and a little playful.

Before I can respond, Jordan cuts in sharply, her voice low but firm. "No, Matthew. She’s off-limits. She doesn’t belong in your world."

I blink, a little taken aback by the way Jordan says it. The guy, Matthew, chuckles darkly, clearly not bothered by her words.

"Relax, Jordan. It’s just a question," he says, leaning closer to my window. 

Jordan gives him a hard look. "No, Matthew. Hands off. She’s not for you."

The other boy who’s been standing by Jordan’s side, smirks. "C’mon, Jord, let us meet the girl," he says, his voice more playful than Matt’s. "What’s the harm?"

Jordan shakes her head firmly. "No, Chris," she says, her tone leaving no room for argument.

I watch the two boys exchange looks, their attention flicking between Jordan and me. I start to put their names to their faces: Matt with the easy grin, and Chris, who seems like he’s having too much fun with this.

Matt suddenly turns his attention back to Jordan. "You hear about that party tonight?"

Jordan sighs, her expression softening. "I’ll be there," she says.

Before I can ask her anything, the deal wraps up, and Matt gives Jordan a nod, Chris handing her something small. The air seems to shift as everything falls back into place.

"Let’s go," Jordan mutters, her foot hitting the gas as the Jeep speeds off.

As we drive away, my mind is buzzing with questions. I glance at Jordan, who’s still focused on the road, I can’t keep quiet anymore.

"Who were those guys?" I ask, trying to keep my voice casual, though I’m definitely curious. "Matt and Chris."

Jordan lets out a small sigh, and I can tell she’s debating whether or not to tell me more. Finally, she speaks up.

"They’re triplets," she says, her tone a little more serious now. "They have another brother who lives out in LA. The three of them—Matt, Chris, and Nick—are big-time dealers. The kind of guys you don’t mess with unless you really know what you're doing."

My eyes widened a bit, the weight of her words sinking in. I always knew Jordan was in the know, but hearing this side of her world feels a little... overwhelming. "Wait, so they’re like legit drug dealers? And you hang out with them?"

Jordan glances over at me. "Yeah, but don’t get the wrong idea. I know them from way back. They’ve always been around, but we keep it casual. I don’t get too deep into their business. I keep my distance."

I nod slowly, "And their brother in LA, is he in the same line of work?"

"Yeah," Jordan confirms with a slight shrug. "That’s just the way they roll. You’ll get used to it."

I don’t know if “used to it” is something I want to get, but I keep my thoughts to myself. My mind drifts to what happened earlier. The way Matt kept eyeing me.

"So, what about tonight?" I ask, my curiosity getting the best of me. "The party Matt mentioned. Are we going?"

Jordan’s hands tighten on the wheel, and I catch a flicker of hesitation in her eyes. "You’ve never asked to go to a party before," she says, almost as if speaking to herself. "It’s always just been my thing. You’ve never really been interested in it."

I raise an eyebrow. "Well, there’s a first time for everything I guess."

My heart beats a little faster at the thought of stepping into that world, but then I catch a spark of excitement in Jordan’s voice. She’s got that fire in her eyes.

"Okay," I say, biting my lip nervously but also feeling the pull of curiosity. "Let’s go get me a new outfit."

Jordan flashes me a grin, her excitement matching mine. "Perf. Let’s go shopping."

A few minutes later, we pull up to a little boutique in the city. It’s not too far from where we were, but it feels worlds away from the rundown house we just left. I follow Jordan inside, the bells above the door jingling as we walk in. The place is packed with clothes—bright colors, edgy designs.

"Alright, pick something that’s revealing and sexy. You’ll wanna fit in.’" Jordan says with a wink. "You need something bold. You can’t show up in the same vibe as that avocado toast and cardigan look."

I laugh at the little stray she threw my way "Okay, okay. Let’s see what you’ve got in mind."

We spend the next hour in the boutique, Jordan practically dragging me from one rack to another, pushing me to try on things I never would have considered before. She pulls out a black corset top that looks a little daring, with intricate lace detailing and a structure that feels way more bold than anything I’d normally wear.

"You’re going for something sexy tonight," Jordan insists, tossing it at me. "Trust me, this will make an impression."

I hold it up to myself in front of the mirror, considering it. "Are you sure this is my style?" I ask, a bit unsure. The corset is tight, the cleavage daring, and the fabric feels both delicate and bold all at once.

"It’s not," she urges, giving me a knowing look. "That’s the point."

I give in and head to the changing room. When I slip into the corset, I’m surprised by how good it actually feels on—tight in all the right places, highlighting my waist in a way I didn’t expect. I step back into the main area, and Jordan’s eyes widen.

"Okay, okay, you look amazing," she says, nodding approvingly. "Now, let's get you some jeans to go with it."

I follow her to the denim section, and after a few minutes, I grab a pair of light-wash, wide-leg jeans. They’re flowy, a little more relaxed than the jeans I usually wear, but they somehow seem like the perfect balance to the corset’s structured look. I hold them up next to the top, and Jordan gives an exaggerated thumbs-up.

"Yes! These are perfect" she says. "This is how you’ll fit in."

I grab them, along with a pair of mini black heels that match the edgy vibe we’re going for. They’re simple but have just enough height to make me feel confident, without being too much.

When I step out of the fitting room in the full outfit, Jordan looks me over, a grin spreading across her face. "Girl, you’re ready. You look hot."

I laugh nervously, standing in front of the mirror. "I don’t even know if I can pull this off... but I kind of love it."

Jordan raises an eyebrow. "You’ve got this. Trust me, I’ll be by your side the whole night."

"Alright," I say, taking a deep breath. "Let’s do this."

After we finish shopping, Jordan insists on stopping by a few other places. We grab lunch, then swing by a beauty store for some makeup essentials.

"Trust me," she says, tossing a tube of mascara into the basket. "We’re going all out tonight."

By the time we’re done, the day has flown by. We’re laughing and chatting about random things, and the excitement I felt earlier is turning into a nervous energy that I can’t quite shake. Every now and then, my mind drifts back to the conversation about Matt and Chris.

When we finally get back to Jordan’s place, she pulls into the driveway with that same determined look she’s had all day. “Alright, babe, it’s time.”

I stare at her, my heart doing a little flip. "Time for what?"

"Time to get ready," she says, hopping out of the Jeep before I can say anything else.

I grab my shopping bags and follow her inside, my pulse picking up pace. Jordan leads me to her room, which is filled with a mix of clothes and half-open drawers. She’s already pulling out a few items, and I can’t help but laugh nervously.

The next few hours feel like a whirlwind. Jordan’s apartment is a crazy mess as we rush to get ready. 

“Okay, sit down,” she orders, motioning to the chair in front of her vanity. I do as I’m told, watching her rummage through a drawer filled with makeup products. “Let’s make sure you look amazing tonight,” she says with a grin.

I glance at my reflection in the mirror, still not quite used to the corset top and the wide-leg jeans. The outfit is bold, daring, but I can’t help feeling like I’m playing dress-up in someone else’s clothes. Still, Jordan seems so confident in it, and I trust her.

She starts with my face, prepping my skin with some kind of serum and moisturizer she swears by. I close my eyes and let her work her magic, her hands light but sure as she applies the base, blending everything seamlessly. My skin already looks smoother, more even than it usually does.

“You’re gonna love the foundation I got for you,” she says, swiping a brush across my cheeks. “It’s got this glow to it—makes your skin look like it’s glowing from within.” She finishes with a dusting of powder, setting everything in place.

I watch as she moves to my eyes. “We’re going for sultry, babe. Just big huge lashes,” she says, applying a thick coat of mascara, making my lashes look long and voluminous.

“Open your eyes,” she says with a smirk as she steps back to admire her work. I glance in the mirror and can’t believe how much my eyes pop just from mascara. 

Jordan then turns her attention to my lips. She picks up a pink lip liner, carefully lining the edges before putting on a pink tinted lip gloss

I smile nervously. I’m not used to this kind of attention. My usual look is… nothing. I’ve never done lip gloss or anything like this before. But tonight, I feel like someone else. 

“Now for your hair,” Jordan says, pulling me from my thoughts. She grabs a curling iron, giving me a teasing grin as she begins to curl my hair in loose waves. The heat feels strange against my hair, but the result is incredible—full, bouncy curls that make my hair look effortlessly voluminous. She finishes with a little hairspray, just enough to hold everything in place without it looking stiff.

By the time she’s done, I’m sitting there, staring at my reflection in awe. The outfit, the makeup, the hair—it’s like I’m looking at a completely different version of myself. The girl in the mirror looks confident, daring, ready to take on whatever comes her way.

Jordan steps back, inspecting me one last time. “You look incredible, Y/N. Trust me, no one’s going to be able to take their eyes off you tonight.”

I swallow, my heart racing. “Are Matt and Chris going to be there?” I ask, almost hesitantly.

“Absolutely,” she says, giving me a wink. “and you're absolutely staying away from them.” She finished with a straight face. 

I giggle at her firmness. Jordan grabs her own outfit, pulling on a leather jacket and running a hand through her hair as she heads for the door. “Alright, You ready?”

I cheer a little, feeling the rush of nervous excitement flood over me. “Yes, yes, yes.”

Jordan’s Jeep rumbles down a dark road, the streetlights becoming fewer and farther between. The neighborhood looks eerily similar to the one we were in earlier today—rundown houses, cracked sidewalks, I shift in my seat, glancing at Jordan, but she looks completely unfazed, focused on the road ahead.

When we finally pull up in front of a house, my stomach twists. It’s a large, old place with chipping paint and music blasting from inside. There are people lingering on the front porch, passing around drinks and cigarettes, their laughter mixing with the heavy bass of whatever song is playing.

Jordan throws the Jeep in park and turns to me. “Alright, listen,” she says, her voice firm. “Stick with me, have fun, but stay away from Matt and Chris. Got it?”

I roll my eyes, unable to hide my curiosity. “Yeah, yeah, I got it.”

She gives me a knowing look before hopping out of the car. I follow, as we make our way up the front steps and through the open door.

Inside, the air is thick with smoke, the scent of weed and something else I can’t place. The place is packed, people spilling into every room, music vibrating through the floors. Jordan walks in like she owns the place, immediately getting daps and side-hugs from a few guys as we move through the crowd.

“Jordy!” A girl with long, dark braids grins and pulls Jordan into a hug. “I didn’t know if I’d see you tonight.”

Jordan smirks. “Had to make an appearance. Thought I’d bring my girl Y/N with me.” She pulls me forward slightly, and I suddenly feel all eyes on me.

The girl gives me a once-over and smirks. “Cute. You don't really look like you belong here, though.”

Jordan just chuckles. “Last I checked, you're not the one who makes the calls around here, thanks for your opinion though!”

I laugh nervously, as the girl looks me up and down again before scoffing and walking away. Jordan hands me a red solo cup filled with something that smells strong. “Drink up,” she says with a wink. “It’ll help you loosen up.”

I take a sip and wince at the burn, but I don’t complain. The warmth spreads through me almost instantly, and suddenly, the party doesn’t feel as overwhelming. Jordan keeps introducing me to people—some friendly, some giving me lingering looks that make me shift uncomfortably. But with each sip of my drink, I relax a little more.

An hour or so passes in a blur of music, dancing, and conversation. At some point, Jordan disappears into a crowd of people near the stairs, leaving me standing alone in the living room. My cup is empty, and the warmth in my chest is starting to fade, so I decided to get another.

Making my way to the kitchen, I squeeze past groups of people talking and laughing. The kitchen is slightly less crowded, but it’s still buzzing with energy. I grab a bottle of some kind of alcohol, about to pour myself another drink when a deep voice cuts through the noise.

“Didn’t take you for the kind of girl to be here.”

I freeze for a second before turning my head.

Matt.

He’s leaning against the counter, watching me with an amused smirk. His eyes flicker over my outfit, lingering just a little too long on the corset before meeting my gaze again. He’s effortlessly put together—black jeans, a fitted long-sleeve shirt, and that same dangerous charm radiating off him like a magnet.

I clear my throat, trying to keep my cool. “I didn’t take you for the kind of guy who lurks in kitchens.”

Matt chuckles, stepping closer. “I don’t. I was actually looking for a drink, but now I think I found something more interesting.”

I roll my eyes, but my stomach flips. “Smooth.”

He grins. “I try.” His body close enough that I can smell his cologne—something dark and expensive. “So, tell me, Y/N, what’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?”

I lift a brow. “You say that like I don’t belong here.”

“Because you don’t.” His voice is low, almost teasing. “You’re different.”

“Different how?” I ask, genuinely curious.

Matt’s eyes flicker to my lips before back up to my eyes. “Too sweet. Too… innocent.” His lips twitch like he finds it amusing. “It’s refreshing.”

I swallow, suddenly feeling like I need another drink. “Maybe.”

Matt chuckles again, shaking his head. “Oh, trust me, sweetheart, you are.” His voice drops slightly, the edge of danger in his tone making my pulse quicken. “That’s why Jordan warned me to stay away from you.”

I blink. “She did?”

“Oh yeah.” He smirks. “Made it very clear. Told me you're too good for me.” He leans in slightly, his voice just above a whisper. “And maybe she’s right.”

I should probably listen to Jordan. Every instinct in me says Matt is the kind of guy I should stay away from. But the way he’s looking at me, the way his presence pulls me in like gravity—I don’t move.

Before I can even think of a response to Matt, another voice interrupts.

“Finally,” the voice drawls. “We get to meet you without Jordan shutting it down.”

I turn my head to see Chris sauntering toward us, looking just as sharp as Matt but with a slightly more mischievous smirk. His eyes flick between me and his brother before settling on me.

“How about you come sit with us? Let us get to know you,” Chris suggests, motioning toward a worn-out couch in the corner of the room.

Before I can answer, Matt’s hand is already at my waist, guiding me toward the couch. My heart pounds as we move through the crowd, Chris leading the way, Matt’s presence heavy beside me.

As soon as we reach the couch, I start to sit down, but Matt subtly steers me to the middle, settling me between him and Chris. The warmth of their bodies on either side of me is immediate, a stark contrast to the slight chill in the air. Matt drapes his arm lazily over the back of the couch, fingertips just barely grazing my shoulder, while Chris stretches out comfortably, his knee nearly touching mine.

Chris grins. “Let’s play a little game. Twenty questions.”

Matt chuckles, his voice low. “You up for it, sweetheart?”

I glance between the two brothers, fully aware of how much trouble I might be walking into. But something about Matt’s quiet intensity and Chris’ playful attitude makes it impossible to pull away.

“Fine,” I say, trying to sound more confident than I feel. “I’m game.”

Chris smirks. “Alright, I’ll start. First question—where are you from?”

“Just outside the city,” I reply, relaxing just a little.

Matt hums. “Explains why you seem so… untouched.”

I roll my eyes, but my cheeks burn. “Next question.”

Chris leans forward, resting his arm on his knee. “Biggest fear?”

I hesitate. “Losing all of my teeth.”

Matt’s fingers tighten slightly against the couch cushion behind me. “Interesting.”

Chris raises a brow. “What’s your guilty pleasure?”

I bite my lip, thinking. “Old romance novels.”

Chris groans. “Lame.”

Matt, however, smirks. “Nah, that tracks. You seem like the type who loves the idea of some brooding, dangerous guy sweeping you off your feet.”

I don’t respond. The look in his eyes tells me he already knows the answer.

Chris continues. “What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done?”

I hesitate before admitting, “Probably this. Sitting between two guys I barely know at a party I wasn’t even supposed to be at.”

Matt’s arm shifts, his fingers brushing against my shoulder. His voice is laced with amusement as he murmurs, “Damn, sweetheart. That’s your craziest thing? We’ll have to change that.”

Chris smirks. “Alright, let’s up this. Next question—what’s your biggest turn-on?”

My breath catches in my throat. My instinct is to play it safe, but the heat from Matt’s gaze and the mischief in Chris’ expression make me feel bold.

“Confidence,” I say, tilting my head slightly. “But not arrogance.”

Chris raises an eyebrow. “So you like guys who know what they want?”

“Yeah,” I admit. “But not the ones who feel like they need to prove something.”

Matt hums, his fingers tracing slow, lazy circles against the fabric of the couch beside me. “Good answer.”

Chris leans in slightly, his grin widening. “What’s your biggest fantasy?”

I keep eye contact with him, watching as his expression darkens slightly with intrigue. My cheeks warm.

“That’s a little personal, don’t you think?” I tease, trying to deflect.

Chris laughs. “That’s the point, babe. You’re the one who agreed to play.”

I bite my lip, contemplating. The heat in the room, the tension in Matt’s touch, the look in Chris’ eyes—it makes me want to say something I normally wouldn’t.

I take a slow sip from my drink, gathering my courage before answering, “I guess I like the idea of someone being completely in control of my body.”

Matt’s fingers tighten slightly behind me, his breath hitching just a little.

Chris whistles. “Damn. You might be more fun than I thought.”

Matt finally speaks, his voice low and edged with something I can’t quite place. “Careful what you admit around us, sweetheart.”

I arch a brow, feigning innocence. “Why’s that?”

Matt smirks, his arm brushing against my back as he leans in, his lips barely grazing my ear.

“Because we don’t play fair.”

tag-

(divider by @cafekitsune) @tbfaptbfae @ch0llies @2muchofaslvt @rockstarchr1s @simply-a-simper @mattscore @watercolorskyy @urfungi @slut4christopherr @mattsturnii @christmastreecake @izzylovesmatt @larnieboox88 @realuvrrr @namelesssav @matts-girlfriend @emely9274

[fancyfeathers]

Requested in messages by @elvabeth

A scenario that lets say all the darlings were in the JL watchtower by themselves cause of some world ending event. The tower is on lockdown (courtesy of batman) to prevent them from escaping. Unfortunately, while the JL are at the other side of the planet or something, the watchtower ends up being attacked by aliens, robots, armed goons or all of them and the darlings can't escape. Doors to the outside are locked. The windows are barred or stuff Ps luthor is responsible Or some sort of high end terrorist group That wants to bring down the Justice League The worst part is that even when the darlings made to the backdoor or secret door whatnot, they can't leave cause of their shock bracelets. Plus the communication system in the tower have been hacked so they can't call for help. Worst part, the Justice league aren't aware of this until after they're done with their mission when Barry can't reach his darling's phone. But when they get there, The watchtower is in shambles and they meet this kind of scene

Minus the dead people The shock bracelets are on the floor soaked in blood but their darlings are no where to be found How will they take this and what's the aftermath Sorry it's so long Ps Hal's darling is paralyzed here

Yandere!Justice League AU Masterlist

Not including Diana’s and Arthur’s darling because I covered why they would not be in the Watchtower or the Hall of Justice here

TW// Very Slight Ableism, Miscarriage, Traumatic Injuries, Loss of Body Parts

It would have been an extremely dangerous incident, the level of Doomsday, in order for everyone to leave. Hell, normally Bruce leaves his darling back at the manor but he has no idea of when he would be returning.

Their one mistake was choosing to leave their darlings in the Hall of Justice instead of the Watchtower, it would be easier to get them all out on the ground if something went wrong.

The Hall of Justice was locked up so tight so that even a drop of sunlight would not even get in, or even oxygen from the outside, but the hall is big enough that they do not even have to worry suffocating.

At first the quiet and person space is nice for a change, especially for Hal’s darling since when he is there he practically never lets her move about on her own, she honestly misses those days as a detective more than anything, but then… she had her accident not too long ago.

Clark’s darling is really just happy to be around other people, it somewhat helps break the perfect family delusion he has made, a darling who is pregnant with his child. It reminds her of who she used to be before all of this occurred.

Barry’s darling is in the same boat as Clark, albeit a tad less delusional, at least lucid enough to know his darling does not want any children… yet, at least. Barry being Barry, I don’t think he can go complete no contact with his darling, so he lets her have phone which has one of those network monitors, so practically all she can do is text and call Barry and whoever else he lets her have contact with. So every few hours he calls up his darling to check up on her, and she does not even have the choice to hang up or ignore it because he has a setting to answer on her behalf, benign all happy and cheerful on the phone, asking how she’s been and having Batman yelling at him to put the damn phone down.

Both Oliver Queen’s and Bruce Wayne’s darlings is just kind of indifferent to it all, it does change any of their circumstances in the long run. Then thanks to Bruce none of them will even have the chance to get out of there, you know those ankle bracelets that people wear on house arrest? Ya turn that up to eleven, pulse, mics, precision point accurate tracking, and a small shock to keep them in line and out of forbidden areas. Though a few won’t let their darlings have this on, because what if something goes wrong or what if it malfunctions and it hurts them? This is namely Clark (because he can always have eyes, or ears rather, on his darling at all times), Hal (his darling was stabbed in the back, literally, when she was a detective and is paralyzed from the waist down, like hell he is going to let something go wrong and fuck her up and hurt her even more), and then Kyle just doesn’t like the vibe of it all.

Kyle Rayner’s and John Stewart’s darlings are just kinda all used to it at this point, with the things they have heard about from the Green Lanterns it’s normally just a question if they should be not worried, slightly worried, or very worried and normally this means how much they need to bunker down. When Hal’s darling comes along they just kinda form a group with how much they get tossed around from place to place for their own protection while they are away.

Then there is just J’onn J’onnes’ darling, who I see being in more of an aroace relationship with him, she is just over everything, literally nothing bothers her because well she does not have no more privacy of her own mind. Like while everyone else is slightly scared or when members of the League are leaving their darlings there, she is just sitting in an armchair, reading her book, completely unbothered by what is happening even when she gets one of Bruce’s cuffs on her ankle.

Now onto the interesting bit of things, it’s one of the nights when they are all alone, they had just finished cleaning up from dinner and everyone is settling down for the night, all of them going off and doing their own things.

And things certainly go wrong in the night.

…

When the Justice League returns they certainly do not expect what they see…

Everything is in ruins…

Blood lining the walls…

The cuffs on the ground and-

Oh god that is an arm.

The footage was bugged so they cannot even look back to see what happened, the power was cut which made everything a complete blackout.

Bruce would barely be able to track anything if it was not for the last security measure he put in place, a chip in his darling’s neck so he could track her if anything went wrong.

While everyone else is arguing about what to do, Bruce and Clark have already figured out their location, though Bruce is much more put together than Clark is.

The Superman looks mortified, just standing there in shock and staring down at the ground.

“There is only one heartbeat…”

Their unborn child never got to see life because of what happened.

It was some mass terrorist organization who the Justice League had bumped heads with before. They saw an opportunity and took it, god knows how they got the information but if they were able to hack the system of the Hall of Justice then they really should not be surprised.

They can’t kill…

But they have to rescue them first…

And then shut down what’s going on.

The Green Lanterns will get to the darlings first, use their constructs to stabilize whatever happened to them, Clark’s darling is a priority since a miscarriage can be deadly, so is Hal’s darling due to her condition, along then with whoever lost the arm. The others will clear the way and-

When they find them all they are a complete mess…

Serious lacerations on every single one of them.

Hal’s darling was clearly thrown against the wall when they arrived and she clearly had head damage and was laying in her own blood that she could not even push herself out of due to the injured state of her arms and the uselessness of her legs.

Serious damage to the left eye of Barry’s darling, cut by some sort of rusted weapon.

Kyle’s darling had broken her right ankle and left leg, along with a huge gash on her upper back. John’s darling was looking after her as the best she can with a broken foot.

Oliver’s darling is the one with the missing arm, clean sliced off along with a punctured lung and in a state of unconsciousness while Bruce’s darling looks after her since she was lucky to get off with only a sprained ankle.

Then there was Clark’s darling, a complete mess, head trauma, broken ribs, and a miscarriage causing her to bleed out. Similar to the previous, J’onn J’onnes’ darling was in well enough condition to take care of her, just enough to stabilize her.

When everything is said and done and they are safe again, there is a heavy bitterness in the air.

The kidnapped them saying that they were keeping them safe…

Hal’s darling entered a coma from her head injuries after being rescued and has not woken up yet after her surgeries.

Barry’s darling had to get her eye removed in order to prevent infection, and then minor damage to the other eye.

Kyle’s darling can’t move out of the awkward position the doctors put her in on her side, so she doesn’t put pressure on the gash on her back or the shattered leg with a metal pole in her leg because of it.

John’s darling is one of the lucky few with only a boot and crutches for a few weeks.

Oliver’s darling had gone into surgery after surgery for her injuries, her arm and lung getting her placed in severe intensive care for at least a few months.

Clark’s darling is in a state of pure emotional distress along with her injuries, her head having been braced and stitched up after a surgeries to take care of her head damage and her… her miscarriage.

Clark is just as much in a state of distress as his darling over her injuries and the fact that he was supposed to protect her and their child and now one of them is dead and the other has injuries she will never fully recover from.

J’onn’s darling and Bruce’s darling are far more focused in looking after the others since they are far more healthy than the others. They visit them all in the medical wing, Bruce’s darling leaving flowers at their bedside, J’onn’s darling reading to them (I think she would be a librarian before all of this), and either of them sitting with Hal’s darling while she is in her current state along with Oliver’s darling who is in recovery.

All of them are in extremely pain emotionally and physically, they were kidnapped, told it was to keep them safe and for their own good, and now one of them is in a coma after she was paralyzed a number of months prior, another is missing an arm along with extremely brain trauma, one of them is missing an eye along with being now legally blind in the other, and one of them is now dealing with the loss of a child.

God when Hal’s darling wakes up she will be having a field day when she was right all along.

[bits-and-babs]

could i be cheeky and ask for some more mandalorian 👀 preferably touch starved din

✦ 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐍 ✦

– KINKTOBER DAY 2: TOUCH STARVED

din djarin x reader | smut, 18+ | 1.2k words

summary: the child has been getting in the way of you and mando spending time together. after weeks without your touch, he's finally reaching his limit.

cw: f!reader, needy din, slightly ooc din to fit the theme, begging, oral (m receiving), cumming early, reference to f oral.

⇽ KINKTOBER MLIST | DAY 3: PHONE SEX ⇾

Even a kriffing Miraluka, blind as they are, could see how badly Mando desperately wanted you to touch him. The sheer yearning that rolled from The Mandalorian in waves was enough to shift the midichlorians themselves, the fibres of the galaxy trembling whenever you were near him.

Weeks trapped inside the Crest with Mando, far too preoccupied with the tiny green gremlin to pay attention to his needs had taken its toll on the warrior's mentality. Grogu had been pulling at wires, leaving the ship static in dead space and even managed to find a button that sucked the oxygen from the hangar, resulting in a frantic struggle to restore O-Levels to baseline before your lungs shrivelled. A menace to the galaxy, you’d spent more time with your eyes glued to the tiny, green hazard than you had sleeping. 

In turn, Mando was practically trembling with need. He’d let out a shaky sigh every time you sat beside him in the passenger seat, voice-strain evident even with the crackle of the vocoder doing its best to conceal the distress that dripped from each singular-syllable response to your questions. 

In deep space with the child finally down in his cot for a much needed sleep, Mando’s leather gloves creak with the grip he tightens around the controls of the Crest. You hear the grains scream under the pressure as you approach, glancing over the map and the coordinates Greef Karga had offered in Mando’s search for the bounty. It’s cruel, barbaric almost, but you swear you can’t see the digits, numbers far too small for you to see from this close… So you place your palm on Mando’s shoulder, leaning over him in an attempt to get a better view. 

You'd never admit it, but the way you somehow managed to touch him between the Beskar plates of his armour was completely intentional. It was a guilty pleasure, seeing the stoic bounty hunter crumble simply from the pressure of your fingers. His chest heaves, each muscle in his body stiffening under the weight of your fingers. 

Regardless of how heavy the Mandalorian’s stare was, his eyes burning into your skin from behind the tinted visor, you refuse to advance without his request. You pretend not to notice, mouthing the digits of the coordinates to yourself, squinting as though you were unable to see.

It had been weeks of this Loth Cat and Womp Rat game, and poor Mando seems to be reaching the end of his tether.

You finally feel his respove snap when you settle your hand on the nape of his neck, leaning further over his shoulder to ‘check the fuel levels of the Crest was enough to make the journey’. Your fingertips brush the bare skin between the neck of his flight-suit and the edge of his chrome helmet, and Mando nearly doubles over like he's in pain. He chokes out, and you can tell he's already hard, his cock straining against his flight suit.

"Please, please fucking touch me,” Mando’s voice sounds utterly pathetic, a far cry from the vicious warrior that blasted through whole packs of assassin droids.”I can't take it anymore, I ca-ahaaa-" he can't swallow the moan that bleeds through the vocoder when you palm his cock though his suit. You can feel the hard curve of his cock twitch against your palm, even though the thick fabric. A rough squeeze sends Mando’s head rocking back against the seat with a quiet, metallic thunk. 

“It feels like you’ve missed me,” you murmur quietly, feeling his hips jerk against your touch when your voice reaches his ears. Prickling arousal bleeds across your skin at how reactive he is, the usually stoic figure shaking himself apart under your touch.

“M–Missed you so much,” he admits, and you’re almost certain you hear the strain of his teeth from grinding them together, “Hah– Need to feel you on me, nee-d to be in you.”

Offering a soft hum of acknowledgement to his suffering, you spin his seat around slowly. His head seems loose on his shoulders, unable to hold it upright when he sees you sink to your knees in front of him. You almost feel sorry for him, watching how he frantically scrambles to free his cock for you. 

The first drag of your tongue against the arch of his shaft has Mando panic-stricken, his hands grasping the arms of the seat when his dick throbs heavily against your taste buds. 

“Fuck–” He growls, practically choking on his own voice, “C–Can’t!”

“It’s okay,” you whisper against a pulsing vein beneath his velvety skin, “We can do it again…” 

Pre-cum slips from the ruddy head of his cock at your gentle encouragement, a tortured whine rattling in Mando’s lungs. It’s so loud that you wouldn’t be surprised if the sound was bouncing inside the Beskar walls of his helmet. 

Carefully, you trace the tip of your tongue against the salty head of his cock, letting out a sharp breath when Mando takes a tight fistful of your hair. His chest is heaving, barely able to keep from slurring his words when he begs you to take him into your mouth. 

Slackening your jaw, you hum softly as you take just a few inches. Mando, in what seems like a half hearted attempt to escape the overwhelming pleasure, pushes his whole body back against the chair while choking out obscene curses. You’re so slow, trying your best not to overwhelm the poor, devastated man– but the flat of your tongue pressed against the underside of his cock and the tip nudging the back of your throat is all it takes to obliterate his self control. 

Mando sounds almost winded by the force with which he cums. His balls pull up so tight, the fingers in your hair clenching to the point your follicles scream beneath the grip. Underneath the Beskar armour, every muscle in his body flexes before the cum hits the back of your throat. Spurts of thick, salty seed paint the inside of your mouth, violent jerks of his shaft causing Mando’s head to fall backwards again, whimpering as you swallow down– swallow around him. 

“Hoh-Fuck–! Stars,” he babbles, wheezing out your name while the last of his cum drips from his cockhead. Pulling from him when his thighs finally start to seize from the overstimulation, you lean your head against Mando’s trembling knees and giggle. He looks utterly exhausted, slumped in his seat and chest heaving as he sucks oxygen into his lungs. 

“Your mouth– hah–” he wheezes out a slight laugh, so unlike the reserved Mando you met in a bar on Corellia. You’d stopped the child from running off into the crowd, and somehow found yourself with the role of babysitting him while following the bounty hunter on his adventures. “It’s so good…”

“Mhmm,” you hum in agreement, smiling to yourself at the memory of meeting the apathetic, almost grumpy chrome-man as you brush your palm across his thigh and closing your eyes to sweeten the deal, “So is yours. Put it to use and taste me?” You hear the tnk of his helmet touching the ground soon after.

pedro pascal/kinktober taglist:

@xwing-baby , @mybugboy , @pansa-1-san , @pedrosprincess , @cosm1c-babe , @lil-stark , @heart-atttack @crybaby-blue-blog, @ssimelttilgniht @2pacacabra @pauldanosgf @leithatnight @kirsteng42 @dindjarinsmut @s0ftgabby @milly-louise @aynsleywalker @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @uncassettodiricordi @howellatme @mortallyuniquepeach @maviee @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction @stvrlights-world @alloftheboysivelovedbefore @girlofchaos @s-u-t @pintsizedsunshine @djarin-dreams @solidly-indulgent @bii-aan-ckaa @casa-boiardi @maelstrom007 @nikisfwn @levi-llama @haunt3dh3art @lundenloves @rentaldarling @cyberpr1m3 @jedi-in-crocs @yunggoblin @spideyman-peter @iaur @cool-iguana @paleidiot

@bloodmoon-bites @wiltedwonderland @doggydale @limegreenbabx @namelesshumanperson @ninahhh-brahh

[redflagshipwriter]

Check yes ch 11

masterpost

Jason repressed honest to god giggles until Danny phased them out of the building and to ground level. Then they started running back to where he had left his bike, laughing with adrenaline as Jason’s footsteps beat down on the pavement. They ran through a thick cloud of smoke outside a barbeque place, bathed in spice and meat essence. “The look on his face!” Jason gasped. “Why did that looney tunes plan work?”

“That’s how my battles go,” Danny defended himself, grinning so hard he glowed under the yellow tinted streetlights. Jason wasn’t sure he was actually running, per se. Was he touching the ground? “I do shit like enter video games and physically fight firewalls. You people are not prepared for me.”

“No shit, Bugs Bunny.” Jason snickered and wiped tears of laughter away before he unhooked his helmet from his bike. Danny shied away like he was worried Jason would force him to take head protection. Jason had fought enough of those battles for today, so he let it go when he never would for a normal passenger. After a moment Danny skittered back into grabbing range and Jason jokingly snagged his arm to reel him onto the back of the bike. “Where to, Prince Charming?” he teased.

Danny went stiff and cold behind him, which was really on brand for a corpse. But it also made it very obvious that he was trying to suppress some kind of reaction.

Okay. That nickname was either really good or really bad. Jason kept his body language loose and open, not really concerned but very aware that he did have an interdimensional monster guy on the back of his bike. “Brr,” Jason complained mildly. For real, it was like having a big ice pack pressed up against his back. How did it permeate his leather jacket and layers of tactical material so easily?

“...Sorry,” Danny said, voice flat. He reached out and gripped onto Jason’s front pockets. “Please don’t call me that one, for mysterious reasons.”

“...Alright.” Jason took that on board. He’d stepped near some kind of trigger. He made sure to remember it. “I have questions that are answered by the ‘mysterious reasons’ clause at the end of your sentence. Fair play. Let’s go to the arcade. It’ll take him a while to follow us.” He latched his helmet and kicked up the stand. “Hold on.”

Danny snorted. “Hang on,” he said scathingly, but there was a teasing lilt under the words. “You cannot possibly throw me off. Grungier men than you have tried.” 

Grungier? Not bigger or meaner or whatever? Jason choked down a laugh. Danny sounded so serious about it, too.

“Odd flex.” Jason turned on the engine and started off before Danny could do more than sputter at his deadpan response. They weaved between heavy Gotham traffic, protected from car fumes by Jason’s breathing filters and Danny’s nonchalant attitude regarding reliance on oxygen. 

Click

Danny jerked behind him, a clear indication that he heard the tiny sound of Jason’s helmet mic turning on. 

He hadn’t done that, so the list of suspects was very short. “Hello, Barbie,” he drawled.

Her unfiltered voice rang out in his ear. “Let’s go party,” she dead panned. Danny pressed his palms a little harder into Jason’s stomach in what might have been proprietary. Was he jealous? “Terrible of you to set a fox in the henhouse when I am off work.”

“Dick started it,” Jason whined honestly. He hit the brakes as the light ahead turned a yellow that cast eerie shades across lingering puddles. “I’m just trying to have a nice night out, and he wants to bother us.”

A female voice faintly floated across the background of Barbara’s call. “Poor baby,” Babs cooed mockingly. “Are you really so innocent? No instigation?”

“Not a word,” Jason lied. He put his feet down to brace the bike. Danny was the weirdest passenger he’d ever had, by virtue of being weightless and having no wind resistance. It was like driving alone except that there were hands on his front and a face pressed against his left shoulder blade.

Someone laughed in the distance. “I want to play,” Barbie sighed. It came across crystal clear into his ear.

“On my team?” Jason asked hopefully. 

She snorted. “Depends on how the chips are falling when I’m done with this presentation. Right now, it’s two to one, isn’t it? Dick’ll look for someone to play on his team before too long. It won’t be me, at least for an hour.”

Information was never free. “Thank you,” Jason said, already mentally allotting a couple hours next Saturday to moving heavy things around the Clock Tower. “Damn decent of you. Wanna say hi to Danny?”

Babs paused. “He’s not wired in, is he?”

The light turned green. Jason kicked up and breezed through the intersection. “No, but he can hear you.”

Danny’s chest became a little more solid against Jason’s back and he- slithered? Was he slithering?

“Hello, Barbie,” he said, politely and somehow inside Jason’s helmet.

Jason was very still. Wow. Bad. His hindbrain did not like this. 

“Call me Barbara, please,” she said. “Danny, right? Are you boys having fun at Dick’s expense today?”

“I dumped water on him,” Danny said happily.

There was a long moment. “How?” Barbie was hiding it, but she was a little disturbed. Jason got it. Dickie was one of the best in the game. 

“I phased through the ceiling when he was distracted, talking to a waiter.”

“Ah, you can fly. That’s pretty ghostly.”

Danny made a grunt. “Well, yeah, but actually I went zero gravity and made it look like I was lizard-crawling on the ceiling with glowing eyes.”

“...Can you hand the helmet back to Jay?”

“I’ll just back out,” Danny said, and slid back down Jason’s back. He suppressed a shiver. It was like- it was like being partially overlapped with some kind of cooled gel. It wasn’t just on his skin, it was sliding easily against the first layers of muscle or something underneath.

‘Interdimensional monster,’ Jason reminded himself. ‘Hot interdimensional monster.’ He put his questions away for later. “He’s fabulous, right?” he drawled. “We’re about to our destination, if it’s alright to get off the line.”

“Stay safe out there, loverboy.” Babs cut the call abruptly.

“She seems nice,” Danny lied. Or maybe he was just a bad judge.

“She will become our enemy real quick if it’s more amusing to her,” Jason corrected. “She’s a terrible enemy to have. I hope her date goes so well she doesn’t check in.”

Danny sulked against his back and slid his cold fingers through Jason’s jacket to rest of his skin directly. Jason suppressed a yelp, barely. “Boring,” he moaned. “If she’s powerful, she should fight me.” “Don’t buy that trouble,” Jason muttered. Jeeze. This dead guy had no self preservation instinct.

[iliketangerines]

first time (interspecies)

a/n: ronal is such a bad bitch...i love her sm @neteyamssyulang @anemonelovesfiction

pairing: ronal x afab!human!reader

warnings: nsfw (MDNI), fingerfucking

Ronal does not like you, a tawtute, in her clan, on her island, learning her ways, and it is very much irritating how you needed to check your oxygen levels every so often when you were following her around

apprenticing with Kiri to learn the ways of medicine, you’re a diligent student, one of her best, unfortunately, able to grab some of the best materials with your small but nimble materials

you could not swim as well or travel without a companion on the ilu, but you made friends quickly to gather materials

it frustrated Ronal how good you were, teaching Kiri and then teaching Neytiri

you acted as a second mother to Tsireya already and even Ao’nung had started to warm up to you because for all your kindness, you could still whip out a quick and clever insult

even worse, she had started to admire the curve of your body, your chest, your legs, and even the way your hair started to curl in the salt water

it frustrated her to no end, and she had started to limit her interactions with you because she wanted to court you so badly

unfortunately for her, she needed some specific materials to replenish her stock of medicine, and she knew that only you would be able to pluck the best material

standing outside of your marui pod, she calls your name, waiting for you to open the flaps and greet her

you step outside, bringing your hand to your hand and then extending it downward as you say oel ngati kameie, and you ask what brings her to your marui

Ronal purses her lips and returns the greeting and says that she needs you to collect a material from somewhere and that you would be best suited for the job

you nod your head, and she turns around, tail flicking behind her, as she calls for her ilu to bring you to the cove personally

the both of you sit in silence, but Ronal can’t stop thinking about you, your soft and small body writhing underneath her thick fingers

the whistles and clicks of her ilu snaps her out of her thoughts, and she waves them away as she slides into the water and attaches her kuru to the ilu’s

she gestures for you to get on the ilu, and you get on slowly, making sure to not slip on the ilu’s slippery skin as you sit down behind her

guiding her thoughts to the cove, the ilu rides steadily to the cove, staying above water until they’re far out from the island and arrive at a large rock formation

she tells you that it’s underneath the water and that she will guide you to the inside of the cave, and you nod and get off of the ilu and tread in the water

Ronal takes a breath and dives under the water, looking for the txampaysye to attach to make tsaheylu with and give her breath underneath the water

you have your oxygen tank, and she dives deep under the water, swimming to the entrance of the cove and swimming in until she reaches the pocket of air on the inside

you rise out of the water, and she points to where the material is, tucked away in a small corner above the water that only thin and small hands could access

all the best of the plant were tucked all the way in the back and also required a tool the Metkayina did not have or a slender arm

it was just easier to recruit you rather than find a Metkayina that was slim and slender in the arms

you nod and easily collect the material, detaching it carefully from the rock and making sure none of the leaves or fruits were damaged as you placed it into the basket

Ronal watches you in the water as you finally collect enough for her, and you walk to her with a beaming smile

she just stares at you and rises out of the water, detaching the txampaysye and letting it glide back into the water, it would stay there until she returned

sitting on the backs of her calves, she’s face to face with you, glaring at you, and you look confused and perhaps a little frightened as you clutch the basket close to you

she hisses out what sort of magic you have casted on her, what tawtute weapon had you used to get her heart to beat fast whenever she was near you, to make her words stutter and trip whenever you smiled at her, to have her body warm and flush whenever you even glanced at her

you look surprised, mouth opening and closing, unsure of how to respond, and Ronal frowns and waits for you to respond

when you respond saying that you hadn't done anything to her, she knows it’s true and scowls and turns to look away, ears pinning down

you say that she likes you, but the end of your statement lilts up, indicating more of a question

Ronal snaps her head back to you and says that she does, that she wants you, and your lips slightly part, plush and soft

she wishes she could run her fingers over them, but she settles for beckoning you to come closer to her

you walk closer until your feet bump against her knees, and she says that begrudgingly she wants to court you, to bring you into her family

your head nods dumbly, and Ronal nods back, before pressing her lips together and asking if you were curious about any of the courting rituals, they had to be different from the Omatikaya ones

you just wave and laugh nervously, stumbling over your words before blurting out that you were a little curious about the sex life in the Metkayina

her eyebrows raise in surprise as she tilts her head toward you, and you clam up, freezing in your spot in horror at what you had just said

Ronal blinks, thinking about whether or not to entertain your request or not, and she looks over you once, the way your clothes stick to you and how your hair has started to dry

she hooks two fingers into the band of your tewng to tug you down to sit on the floor

you do so obediently, still a bit dazed from asking your question, and the tsahik just spreads your legs wide and drags your hips to rest on her hips

there’s a slight sound of surprise that escapes you, but you don’t make any move to get away

she pulls your tewng to the side and slides her thumb against your clit, pressing the pad of her thumb into the small and sensitive nub, and you gasp

Ronal hums, pressing her thumb in slow experimental circles, making you moan and mewl in pleasure, the sound slightly muffled by the mask

it’s a sweet high-pitched sound, and she wishes you could take the mask off so that she could hear you clearly

for now, she continues to rub her thumb against your clit, listening to your small whines and whimpers, and your thighs slightly twitch where they rest at the sides of her own legs

moving her fingers down, Ronal slides a finger into your pussy, humming as the warmth envelops her fingers, and you whine out her name loudly, resting your head on the cave floor as you close your eyes in pleasure

she thrusts her finger in and out of you slowly, experimentally, figuring out what made you gasp or whimper or whine

she would show you what it meant to receive pleasure in the Metkayina clan

Ronal slides another finger into your soaked pussy, listening to your strangled sound at the stretch, and your hips buck toward her, trying to take her deeper

your cunt clenches down on her, and you keen loudly as your hips grind against her fingers

she lets you ride her fingers until you’re breathless and finally calm down and open up your eyes to look at her

she tilts her heads at how quickly you had come and begins thrusting her fingers in you again, a choked moan coming out of you

she’s curious about your limits as a human

this was her first time with a human, the first time a Metkayinan had ever engaged with a human so intimately, and she was curious to know everything about you

it was simply in her nature as a healer

[ramblings-in-imagination]

Maybe Don’t Drink Lake Water For Fun: Part 2

Dean was hunched over newspaper clippings spread across the table, while Sam stared at the laptop, eyes narrowed. EMF readings, missing persons reports, and obituaries were scrawled across their notes like battle maps.

“We’ve got at least five drownings in the last two months,” Sam muttered. “All teenage girls. All pulled under, all by witnesses who claimed they ‘vanished.’”

Dean leaned back with a sigh, raking a hand through his hair. “So we’re dealing with something angry, female, and tethered to the lake.”

“Could be a death echo. Could be a cursed object underwater. We need to dive again, find what’s anchoring her.”

Dean glanced toward the bed.

Y/N was curled up beneath a threadbare blanket, claiming she was just cold, but her skin had lost its color since the rescue. Her lips were still a little too blue. She hadn’t touched her dinner. Her hands shook when she reached for water.

But every time Dean asked, she flashed a tired smile and said, “I’m fine.”

Sam had noticed too—he kept sneaking glances when she wasn’t looking.

Dean pulled Sam into the bathroom and shut the door. “She’s not okay.”

“I know,” Sam whispered. “But I can’t tell if it’s from almost drowning or if something else happened in that water.”

Dean’s jaw clenched. “We need to end this. Fast.”

Later that night…

While Sam and Dean headed back to the lake to look for cursed objects in the reeds, Y/N sat on the edge of the bed, quietly trying to steady her breathing.

She hadn’t told them. She didn’t want to slow them down. She couldn’t

She wiped her mouth on her sleeve and shakily reached for the motel bathroom counter to steady herself. The mirror showed her pale, clammy face. Pupils blown. Shadows under her eyes.

Something was wrong.

Back at the lake…

Sam shined a flashlight along the shoreline. “Dean—over here.”

He knelt and pulled something glinting from the water—a drowned woman’s necklace, the pendant heavy and slick with mud.

Dean recognized it instantly.

“Clara Hensley,” he muttered. “She drowned here thirty years ago. Her fiancé confessed to leaving her in the water. Body never found. Maybe this is the anchor.”

Sam nodded grimly. “Let’s salt and burn it. Tonight.”

The door to the motel room creaked open.

Dean stepped in first, tossing his duffel on the bed with a grunt. “Well, that lake bitch is toast.”

Sam followed, wiping mud from his boots. “We burned the necklace, EMF went dead. Should be no more victims.”

Dean’s smirk faded when he glanced toward the other bed.

“Y/N?” he called.

She was curled under a blanket, facing the wall, motionless. At first glance, she looked like she was sleeping—but something felt… off.

“Hey, kid,” Dean tried again, walking closer. “We got burgers—your favorite artery-cloggers.”

No response.

Sam frowned and walked to the other side of the bed, crouching to her level.

Her skin was pale. Too pale. Lips faintly blue. Chest rising and falling in rapid, shallow breaths. And then—

She let out a wet-sounding cough in her sleep, curling tighter in pain.

Dean’s stomach dropped. “That’s not normal.”

Sam’s eyes widened. “Dean—listen.”

They both leaned in. Her breathing was crackling, like there was fluid in her lungs. Every inhale sounded like she was trying to suck air through a sponge.

“Shit,” Sam said, panic creeping into his voice. “This is secondary drowning. I read about it—when someone inhales water but seems fine, and then starts to drown hours later.”

Dean was already kneeling beside her. “Y/N. Hey. Hey, kiddo, wake up for me.”

She stirred faintly, her lashes fluttering. Her eyes were unfocused.

“Mmm… hurts…”

Dean felt the air leave his lungs.

Sam quickly checked her pulse. “Heart rate’s through the roof. She’s hypoxic. Skin’s cool, clammy… She needs oxygen now.”

“She didn’t say anything,” Dean murmured. “She said she was fine.”

“She probably didn’t know how bad it was,” Sam said, pulling out his phone to call 911. “Dean—if this goes too far, she could crash. She could die.”

Dean sat beside her, gently brushing damp hair off her forehead. “C’mon, sweetheart. Stay with us. You’re okay. You’re not alone.”

Her lips parted, and she tried to speak—but her words came out slurred. Another harsh, rattling cough wracked her chest, and pink-tinged foam bubbled at the corners of her mouth.

Dean’s voice cracked. “No, no—don’t you dare—”

“She’s got pulmonary edema,” Sam said to the dispatcher on the phone. “She’s lethargic, diaphoretic, and barely conscious. Yes. Motel off Highway 9.”

As Sam rattled off coordinates, Dean kept talking to her, voice low and steady.

“You’re okay. Just hang on. The ambulance is coming.”

She turned her head slightly, eyes glassy.

“Dee… can’t breathe…”

“I know, baby. I know. Just breathe with me, okay?” Dean held her hand tightly. “Breathe in—slow—just like that.”

Sam finished the call. “They’re five minutes out.”

“She doesn’t have five minutes,” Dean muttered.

Y/N suddenly gagged again, coughing so hard she vomited across the sheets—clear water and mucus and bile. Her body trembled. Then her limbs began to twitch.

“She’s seizing,” Sam said, already reaching to brace her. “Oxygen deprivation. Dean—we’ve gotta roll her onto her side—get her airway clear.”

Dean helped turn her just in time as another wave of frothy vomit spilled from her mouth.

Her eyes rolled back.

Dean’s voice cracked. “Y/N—no. Stay with me, kiddo. Please.”

[poisonheadcrabsalesman]

okay so you killed him now what is the opposite of killing miller?

(this is a prompt)

Hi Zita, it's been 84 years. I wrote something for this finally. There's puns and genuine feelings and baby facts in here, learned firsthand.

-

Miller's been in the same room for the last 6 hours. That was the last time he left to pop down the hall to get water and snacks for his charges. Before that he was back in the room fiddling with the light settings, helping adjust the hospital bed, and reminding nurses and patients of the most recent pain ratings, meds and dosages, and questions. So many questions. Mostly from Roland.

S-IVs don't need as much sleep as normal people, which is a blessing and a curse. It's what got him into this situation.

All hands on deck means all hands on deck when the Infinity picks up a distress signal and responds to a colony-ship abandoned by its AI.

Roland makes sure to express his opinions straight into Jared's ear, but he switches gears when triage happens. They work in tandem with little bickering as the Infinity's numbers swell with their new pick up.

It's a lot of civilian types, entire families with many generations all milling about and a cloud of anxiety over them. Miller can feel the weight of their stares and the burning curiosity Roland exudes as he leans on Miller's Mjolnir to look closer at so many new people.

Children weren't something he'd seen up close before.

He ends up forgoing the helmet given how jumpy they are around him. The results are night and day: he goes from a faceless tool of the UNSC to Jared Miller, awkward guy and newly designated Au Pair.

Cmdr. Palmer would be laughing at him if there was a single motherly bone in her body allowing her within 500 yards of the makeshift maternity ward in this corner of the infirmary.

Miller had also forgone the helmet due to the amount of questions he'd been receiving from all sides. Between the kids, the civilian parents glaring at him, and Roland's unfettered access to his eyes and ears, he wanted a breather from the HUD and proximity alarms as brave tweens and toddlers approached him.

The previous 12 hours had been a deluge of:

"Have you killed any aliens?"

"Spartan Miller, ask that nurse about the new mottling on the baby's skin. It's probably just newborn rash, but you should ask."

"Why are you so tall? Did they give you more bones?"

"Miller, ask to hold the baby, I want to use the armor's sensors to check oxygen levels."

"Do you know Master Chief?"

"Spartan Miller, are you ignoring me?"

"Mister Spartan, can you get us some extra blankets?"

"Can I hold your gun?"

It's 2300 when the extended family of the newborn shuffle off to parts unseen to get some rest and give the new parents space when it happens. The brave faces tire and the frazzled nerves shine through. Technically, Miller is off the clock. He should go recover in his own quarters. He should leave.

He does.

The assemblage bay is a hive of activity. A well oiled machine taking apart its smaller machines and putting them away for future use. Miller feels more human in his ready gear with a shower and a meal in him.

He wanders back into the infirmary and smiles awkwardly at the faces lighting up to see him.

The baby's just been fed and needs swaddling. Mom hasn't slept in close to 48 hours, and her wife is struggling to keep her eyes open from the awful makeshift bench. Cots were elsewhere and this is what they had to work with.

Mom just needs to lay down without worrying about the baby for a half hour till the next nurse comes. Wife just needs to sit down. Miller takes first watch and swaddling duty. He'd seen it done a dozen times over the last day and then some. Make a triangle with the cloth, tuck the arms gently so they don't scratch the face, move the cloth left over and under, the bottom up and over a shoulder and right over left. Secure and warm in hands big enough to dwarf the less than eight pound bundle. Hat affixed to a dark head of hair to retain heat. Tiny features squinch up and relax at the change in pressure and temperature.

Facts from the last day and a half pour over Miller's mind. Support the head and neck. Check for blue around the mouth in case of oxygenation issues. Newborns lose 10% of their weight the first few days. You have to train them to eat, they're used to getting food automatically. The diapers won't be pretty but black tar and brickdust are normal for the first few days.

He stands and sways. Dinosaurs of all colors look back at him from the swaddle. Wife succumbs to sleep with her head pillowed on a jacket and a spare blanket over her. Mom holds a pillow and curls up, too warm in a newborn temperature room. She dozes as Miller sways, squeezes, and shushes the little one. A red face and a small cry let him know it's nearly time to change the diaper. A glance at the clock lets him know the nurse should be there soon. A golden bit of text on one of the panels lets him know that Roland is still hellbent on learning, nagging, and all around being involved in the whole process.

The nurse comes in for Mom's 4 hour check and another round of meds. They help Mom sit up and adjust in the hospital bed while Miller changes the diaper.

He keeps up a steady stream of words at the little squirming bundle. "I know, I know. It's so cold right? Well we'll get you warm in juuust a second."

Miller's grateful for the nurses and the well-stocked bassinet. Diaper changed, baby cleaned, and the tiny squealing human calms from squeaking cries to small grumbles as they shift from upset-red back to healthy pink.

They're so small. It's insane.

Miller's still staring when the nurse approaches to check and prep for another round of feeding and skin-to-skin contact.

"You're a trooper." They say, nodding to Miller.

"Actually I'm a Spartan." He jokes as he goes to wash his hands.

The baby mewls loudly before quieting again.

"Didn't think it was that bad of a joke…"

Mom smiles and the nurse rolls their eyes.

Miller comes back and moves his vigil to the chair in the corner over the next several hours.

It doesn't get any less surreal, but something's shifted.

[thefatesofspring]

A list of Tamlin’s magic abilites & their potential

It’s quite a long post so be prepared…let’s start off with the abilities we are 100% sure of.

• Shape-shifting

- So as we know Tamlin can shapeshift, we also know he can shapeshift others (he mainly reserves this for his sentries as stated by Lucien)

- Potential: when Tamlin shapeshift’s he can do so into anyone or anything & if it’s anyone there is a high chance that he can take on that persons power/magic/ability e.g. if he were to shift into Rhysand he could take on Rhysand’s misting, daemati powers & whatever else he has.

(We kind of already know this is a possibility because of Feyre & her pregnancy, we find out that Nyx was conceived when Feyre was in her illyrian form & that he has illyrian wings, now even though in the book I’m sure it said Nyx was only 1/4 Illyrian, it makes no sense for that to be true if Feyre changed her entire body to her illyrian form which would suggest the shapeshifting happens on a cellular/gentic/DNA level & that Nyx is actually 1/4 high fae & 3/4 Illyrian, Nyx’s wings forming in the womb like an illyrian babe is consistent with him only being 1/4 HF because Feyre had shifted fully into an illyrian form & Rhysand being half illyrian)

• Glamours & illusions

- we know that Tamlin can create glamours & illusions because he did with the Archeron family (except Nesta of course) & he even did it against Rhysand & would have fully succeeded in that if he remembered to remove the 3rd plate set at the dinner table

- Potential: Tamlin has the potential to create glamours & illusions on such a huge scale that there really wouldn’t be much of a limit except maybe either his imagination or distance, we know that he glamoured his entire estate so that Feyre could not see the other faeries so what’s to say he couldn’t glamour an entire court?…or maybe even a continent?…

if Tamlin decided to be a villain after his mother was killed who’s to say Tamlin not only created this glamour but also put an illusion over everyone if he went into his villain era? What if he decided Amarantha was just made up so that he could get back at Rhysand? The potential is truly close to limitless, the fact that Tamlin was able to very nearly get one over on Rhysand & he is a daemati & supposedly an incredibly powerful one at that shows how powerful he really is.

• Air/Wind control & manipulation

- So 3 books in & we find out Tamlin has yet another ability when he single-handedly saves Feyre, Elain, Azriel & Briar using his ability to control air…I’m sorry is he the fucking avatar??😩😂

- Potential: at this point he can literally do anything Storm from X-Men can do with her ability to control the air element as well as anything Aang the avatar can do, if Tamlin wanted you to suffocate by simply removing the oxygen from the particles around you he could, tornado?✅ Hurricane?✅ Typhoon?✅ Cyclone?✅ Check✅ Tamlin has the power & potential to do it all. I’m not joking when I say this is an extremely fucking deadly ability to have.

• Healing

- Tamlin can heal himself & others exactly like Thesan can as he tried to do when it came to saving that Faerie who had its wings ripped off by Amarantha but do to Amarantha taking most of his powers he wasn’t able to do much at that time

- Potential: Well I mean he could cure pretty much any disease or bone breakages, whether that be in himself or one others.

• Shielding & Repelling against dark magic

- At the end of ACOTAR (book 1, Chapter 45, Page 405) we see through Feyre’s eyes what she sees just before Tamlin rips out Amarantha’s throat, “Amarantha screeched, kicking at Tamlin, lashing at him with her dark magic, but a wall of gold encompassed his fur like a second skin. She couldn’t touch him.” However I think SJM changes this whether it’s because she forgot she even wrote in this little gem of realised she made Tamlin too powerful & this alone makes Rhysand look weak in comparison I don’t know because in Hybern he’s no longer able to shield himself against that dark magic when Hybern uses a “leash” to subdue him so that he can’t attack the king of Hybern.

- Potential: Now the potential for this ability is insane & realistically Tamlin has the potential to go up against Koschei because we know Koschei uses dark magic of some sort & giving that it would be the perfect battle of light vs dark but it would also mean Rhysand’s magic can’t touch Tamlin so his misting ability could potentially falter on Tamlin

Now moving along to the hidden magic/abilities/powers Tamlin could have

• Elemental magic

- Honestly Tamlin could be Prythians version of Aang & Storm rolled into one, if SJM were brave enough to thoroughly write Tamlin & flush out his character in every aspect Tamlin would literally be Prythians mutant category 5 avatar👀 when Aang first broke free from the ice he only had the element of Air…Tamlin as we know it also at the moment only currently has air, if memory serves me correctly Aang then goes onto learning Earth bending…👀…what if Tamlin already knows he can earth bend…👀…or begins to learn it, he is after all the embodiment of spring!! & if we want to put more of a fantasy twist on it he can control plant’s & wildlife he is essentially an ecokinetic & his ability is ecokenesis.

Description from Superpower wiki: “The user is connected directly to the natural world and thus can communicate, influence, manipulate and control nature: all living beings and plants and natural phenomena, such as the weather and geology of the Earth, and the matter and energy of which all these things are composed. They can survive in any natural environment on earth.

The user can manipulate, tap into, blend and/or become elements of nature, including air, weather, lightning, earth, stone, metal, water, ice, light, darkness, clouds/mist, magma, fire etc. They can control animals and plants and mimic their abilities and forms.”

Now there’s been no indication to my knowledge that Tamlin can influence or control water but again if he has elemental magic that is a given & lastly FIRE!! If Tamlin is a descendant of Aelin & Aelin is know as fire-bringer descendant of Mala…YOU GUYS!!!…what if Tamlin has the colbalt blue fire!!! What if like Aelin, like Aang he has to descend into his power!!!…👀ive already said many times before Tamlin is a starborn fae like Bryce & Aelin so there is a potential for him to!!

• Daemati

- I want to thank @theegemini92 for reminding me of this one because I genuinely forgot about it until I saw her post today. So as it goes when Tamlin supposedly uses his glamouring ability to make the Archeron family believe Feyre is staying with an aunt it doesn’t strike anyone that his “glamouring” acted a lot like daemati mind manipulation??…👀

Now yes we know the ability to glamour is a trick of the mind to make you see something that isn’t really there but seeing something & thoroughly believing something that doesn’t exist are two vastly different things, the extent to which Elain & Papa Archeron truly believed that Feyre was living with a distant aunt over Nesta being fooled is crazy, both abilities revolve around the mind & we know Nesta has a “steeled will & mind” and Rhysand struggled greatly to enter Nesta’s mind using his daemati abilities…👀

The fact the only time Rhysand is ever actually able to access Tamlin’s mind is at the HL’s meeting strikes me as convenient more for Tamlin…almost as if Tamlin let it happen because he needed others to see that Rhysand would use his abilities against them if he wanted to…👀

• Resurrection & Reincarnation

- This one would tap more into the Spring Court magic lore side & the God of Spring, so again as we all know the definition of season of spring is life after death, rebirth, resurrection, rejuvenation, renewal, regrowth & new beginnings/blessings so on & so on.

Well you know how The Spring Court celebrate Calanmai what if on Calanmai when the magic is most potent it wasn’t just used as a night to increase fertility & create the next heirs but also a night where you could resurrect or reincarnate someone, not only would you rejuvenate the land but you’d also create life after death & resurrect a loved one maybe & it would technically all still fall under the category of Spring magic & maybe a bit of blood magic or something other magic but it’s still spring magic at its core performed by The High Lord of The Spring Court aka Tamlin.

Let me know what you guys think in the comments below🩷

Also let me know if you want me to do this for any other acotar characters

[dfortrafalgar]

I'm Losing You

Having a family isn't always as easy as fairy tales make it seem.

Warnings: Read chapter 1 for warnings. This chapter contains medical trauma in an emergency room, as well as pregnancy loss.

I was going to do my usual thing and post this tomorrow, but i felt too bad making yall wait so you get a one-two punch of pain today (on the bright side, and i promise this, things start to go uphill from here, if you could believe it <3)

Taglist: @phsycochan | @mirillua | @augustanna | @chaixsherlock

Chapter 16

[Prev] [Next]

The darkened operating theater’s focused silence was sharply interrupted with the sound of ringing coming from the phone tucked away in the circulating nurse’s back pocket.  It was very obviously from Law’s phone, but the entire surgical crew kept their heads lowered and honed in on their work.  It was quite difficult to break your stride when someone’s body was cut completely open and their beating heart was framed by a metal cage keeping the layers of fat and muscle from closing.  The nurse was checking oxygen levels of the patient and simply let the phone continue to ring.  No one said a word.

The ringing stopped.

Then it started again.

“Just let it go,” Law mumbled.  He couldn’t be bothered, not when he was quite literally inside someone’s heart.  A mitral valve replacement required just as much care as any other open heart procedure, despite being a relatively easy operation for his skilled hands.

The ringing stopped.  The nurse stepped away from the monitor and made a circle around the team, checking instruments, patient vitals, and needed materials.

Then the ringing started again.  This time, a few glances were tossed around the room by the attending surgeons and nurses, but Law kept his head down, neck-deep in his work.  The nurse pulled the phone out of her back pocket and assessed the screen.  Your photo and name were displayed.

“Doctor, it’s your wife,” she announced.

“End the call and text her that I’ll get back to her when I can.”

Following his instructions precisely, the nurse tapped the red End Call button, opened her doctor’s phone with his passcode from their previous go at this very situation, and navigated to his text messages, pulling up your conversation.  She had to suppress a smile at the photo that was set for your contact- a photo of you and what she assumed to be your dog, both grinning brightly at the camera.  She began to text.

Hi, this is Doctor Trafalgar’s circulating nurse again!  He’s currently in the middle of an operation but he’ll call you back when he’s done!

She was about to put the device back in her pocket when it buzzed with another incoming text message.

Wifey

This is Law’s friend Shachi.  Idk operating room etiquette but his wife was taken to the emergency room from her job, im here with her and another friend.  Can you relay the message somehow?  Thanks.

The unsuspecting nurse felt her heartbeat grow anxious.  She herself didn’t really know how to properly announce that information to her supervising doctor, let alone the entire room of fellow technicians and nurses surrounding a patient with his chest fully exposed and heart cut open.

“Everything good?” the tired voice of the lead doctor called from his position, slightly hunched over the body under the bright lights and protective sheet.  He had stepped back only mere centimeters to let an attending nurse go in with sutures.

“Uhm…” the circulating nurse felt her palms grow sweaty beneath her blue medical gloves.  “It was one of your friends, your wife is in the emergency room, apparently.”

Law felt his blood run cold.  His head shot upward to look at the poor nurse who was now unfortunately involved in this, staring at her with wide, golden eyes below his magnifying hood.  He must have looked profoundly stupid partnered with his surgical mask and bright blue hair net.  “What did he say?”

“That was it, he just said to call him back as soon as he could,” she responded nervously.

“Doctor, the surgery’s almost completed if you–” one of his technicians began before being interrupted by the doctor.

“No, I’ll never leave the operating room until the procedure is finished.  Don’t worry about me, continue your focus on the patient.”  But for the first time in Law’s entire professional life, his focus was everywhere but the patient.  Why were you in the emergency room?  Why were you taken from work?  What in the world had happened?

Were you having another miscarriage?

No matter how hard he tried, he could not bring his focus back to the unconscious patient on the table in front of him.  He felt like a ghost out of his own body, merely observing his rigid frame standing amongst his colleagues, frozen in time and place, glued to the cold tiled floor.  Petrified.  Chills were creeping up and down his vertebrae, spreading out to the very tips of his fingers, making him wish he could run.  Run as fast as he could, run to the next building to where the emergency department was and run through every room to find you.  He needed to find you.

The surgery could not have ended sooner.  As soon as he was given the clear that the patient was in the recovery ward, he was sprinting with all of his might through the halls of the cardiac ward, out through the lobby, and into the bright summer sun that seemed to be mocking him in his frantic state.  His lab coat trailed behind him and passing nurses and patients jumped out of his way as he barreled down the bright sidewalk of the hospital complex, passing small bundles of blooming flowers that almost shook with how fast his feet were carrying him.  He felt like his heart might evacuate from his chest, or that he would surely lose his lunch with the stress of the unknown.

He rounded a corner and entered the emergency wing through a back entrance using his ID, sprinting to the nearest nurse’s desk barely catching his breath.  The young woman behind the counter, caught off guard by his sudden burst into the space, was staring at the man with wide, blue eyes, her fingers frozen mid-typing on her mechanical keyboard.

“T… Trafalgar.  Where,” was all he was able to gasp out as he clung to the counter catching his breath.  He never was much of an athlete.

The young nurse hurriedly picked through the screen of her computer monitor.  “Room 114.”

“Thank you,” he wheezed as he pushed himself off again, this time speed walking through the large corridors of the emergency room, not wanting to cause an issue with the attending doctors.  He passed by empty gurneys and folded wheelchairs, idle medicine carts and nurses chatting with one another, another ordinary day for them.  Room 114 seemed so far away.

Finally, the number appeared on the wall to his right.  The door was wide open, multiple bodies hunched over the bed.  Shachi and Ikkaku bolted upright from their chairs, mouths open about to speak to Law, but he pushed past them and into the crowd of nurses.

Your wrists were strapped to both handles of the bed you occupied, your eyes squeezed shut and an oxygen mask was forcefully strapped to your face, so tight your skin was visibly pinching through the hard elastic straps.  The hose extending from the mask and into an on-board oxygen monitoring machine seemed so foreign on your beautiful face.  A few heart rate electrodes were placed on your chest, picking up a well above average heartbeat.  Your feet were weakly flailing under the covers as multiple nurses had their hands on you, assessing your blood pressure, your oxygen, hands on your abdomen, your legs, your breasts.

Law saw red.

“BACK THE FUCK UP,” he shouted, finally drawing attention to himself from the surrounding nurses.  Hospital etiquette could fuck off for all he cared.  His wife had her wrists bound.  “GET AWAY FROM HER.”

“Doctor, please,” a man from beside your bed rushed forward toward the cardiac surgeon, placing his hands on his shoulders.  “Please don’t yell-”

“Why the hell is she tied to the bed?!” he demanded, every fiber of his being forcing him to maintain at least some level of composure.  Behind him, Ikkaku grabbed Shachi’s wrist and dragged him out of the room, not wanting to put their friend under any more stress.

“She was thrashing in the ambulance, we needed to restrain her,” the male nurse explained, attempting to push Law back from your bed.

Law looked past the nurse’s shoulder and screamed once more.  “I SAID GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HER.”

A much larger male nurse stood up from his place around your bed.  When he stepped aside, his legs revealed a bright red biohazard container on the ground, a mere glimpse of the pants you were wearing that morning peeking into Law’s field of view.  

“Doctor, calm down or I’m going to call security,” the bigger man threatened, stepping toward Law and giving his shoulders a firm shove backwards.  He was built less like your average nurse and more like a basketball power forward, and the force of his hands against Law’s shoulders sent the black-haired surgeon stumbling backward.

“Don’t tell me to calm down,” he seethed.  “What kind of nurse ties a patient to the bed when they’re panicking, huh?!  Is that what they’re teaching you ingrates?!  Tying a panicking woman to a bed to keep her still?!”

He forced his way past the larger nurse, much to the man’s discontent, and pushed through the other employees surrounding your bed.  His first action was to loosen the straps of the oxygen mask on your face, giving your skin room to breathe.  His deft hands ripped the velcro blood pressure cuff off of your bicep, tossing it back to a nurse who had stepped away, shocked by his actions.  The oxygen monitor on your finger was next, followed by the restraint on your left hand, which fell limp next to your body.  Your wedding ring was missing.

“Where’s the ring?” Law asked, forcing the blood oxygen monitor into the hands of the same nurse who took the cuff from him.

“What ring?” the basketball nurse asked, visibly angry with the doctor’s intrusion.

“The wedding ring on her left hand.  Where the hell is it?”

A very small, meek voice piped up from across your bed.  “It was removed in the ambulance because the paramedic was afraid she’d hurt herself with it.”

“Hurt herself, or hurt you?” snarled Law referring to the confused gaggle of nurses that had come into contact with his wife, already fed up with whatever excuses they were giving him.  If he was more rational, he could argue that they were simply doing their jobs, but even from his standpoint, what they were doing to you was clearly too much.  “I want every single one of you out of this room, and I want an attending doctor here immediately.  I need one of you to find that damn ring and bring it back to me.  Don’t make me ask twice.”

A few nurses took the opportunity to scramble from the room, visibly frazzled by the surgeon’s fit of rage.  The two male nurses from prior, however, stood their ground.

“You’re not in our department, doc, I’m afraid we can’t take orders from you.”  The larger nurse crossed his arms over his chest in defiance as Law stood between your body and the man.

“Then take my directions as the family member of a patient.  Get.  The hell.  Out.”  If Law were to see himself, he’d have absolutely no idea where this authoritative side of him came from.  He was never one for verbal or physical confrontation, more used to shutting down and bottling in his feelings than displaying them outright, and never would he ever think to get in the face of an extended colleague, but now was not the time for rational thought.

The first nurse to put his hands on Law placed a hand on the shoulder of his fellow nurse, pulling him toward the door.  The larger man finally relented and followed his coworker out into the hallway and around the corner out of sight.  Silence had finally settled over the room and Law rushed to the other side of your bed to unstrap your right wrist from the metal barrier.  Your heart rate on the monitor was slowly starting to even out, but was still maintaining a fairly erratic pace.  His new position allowed him to get a glimpse into the red biohazard container that was improperly placed next to your bed.  Your pants, the ones you had purchased when out with your friends a few weeks prior and that you were excited to finally wear to work, were completely soaked with bright red blood.  The rest of your clothing was in the bucket, specks of blood on your socks, and the lower portion of your flowy summer shirt.  He shoved the bucket out of the way with the ball of his shoe, forcing down the nausea that crawled up his throat.

He placed his hand on your forehead, leaning over you, his face contorted in an agony that mirrored your own.  

Your eyes slowly opened, your body completely spent and exhausted.  He barely wanted to know what kind of ambulance ride you had endured that had rendered your usually-energetic and upbeat form into a shell of your former self.  Your irises were filled with sorrow, and your eyes immediately began welling with tears at the sight of your husband standing above you.  You gasped into the oxygen mask, almost choking on the breath of cold, spicy air that flowed through the hose and forced its way into your body.  Law was quick to pull the mask off, breaking every form of protocol he was familiar with.  He knew his outburst and actions easily risked his integrity as a high profile surgeon, but as he took in the sight of you, completely burnt out, humiliated, scratched up from the binding on your wrists and straps from the mask on your face, he couldn’t find the time to care about his integrity anymore.

Finally free from the confines of the mask, you sucked in a shaky breath, heavy, salty tears flowing down your cheeks like a waterfall.  You weakly reached a hand up to his, and he took it in both of his warm, calloused ones, clenching you tightly, funneling all of his love into you.

“Law…” you tried to speak, but your voice came out more like a croak.  He felt his heart shatter, splintering into toxic pieces of fiberglass that ripped at his flesh, that stung the soul and pierced the very heart he gave to you.  Your lips were violently quivering as your body shook with suppressed sobs, not having any more energy to scream.  All you were able to do was mouth the words, ‘I’m sorry.”

Law’s resolve shattered.  Whatever was left of his pride, his dignity, his status as your strong, unmoving, supportive husband, was fractured.  He crumpled above you, his legs shaking as his head fell to your trembling chest, his hands that held your own remaining close to his own lungs as the tears he had wanted to cry for the past two years of trying for a baby finally escaped from his eyes.  He sniffled, snot rapidly pooling in his sinuses as a result of his tears, but he continued to hold your trembling hand in his as he bit his lip so hard it stung, the scorching hot tears leaving his eyes feeling like trails of magma down his skin.  The smell of hospital sheets did not belong on you.  

The world seemed to implode in on your weak form in the hospital bed, your husband’s defeated body hunched over your own.

A crackled, broken sob exited his lungs.

[feelfreetopleasemexo]

You don’t have to do this request whatsoever, you can even ignore it 😅 I was just wondering if you could possibly make a part two to the Fire and Water don’t mix? Again, please don’t feel pressured into doing this. I hope you have an amazing day and week! Love your work💗

Thank you so much, requests mean the world to me 😭🥰

Fire and Water dont mix pt 2

As the nurses and doctors discussed their plans at the doorway, Katsuki held your hand tightly. He looked stern and confident, his usual fiery eyes glared at them through his furrowed brows, but you could see the concern, the anxiety flicker in them. He squeezed your hand three times quickly, the unspoken gesture that meant I love you, it was something hed done since you first started dating, long before he was confident enough to say the words. Now, it was reserved for quiet moments, for moments to ground you both when life threw curve balls at you.

The doctor that had discussed the plans with you walked over, holding a clip board and set of gloves in his hands, looking up at Katsuki he tried to calm his own nerves at the intimidating glares,

“So, as we’ve discussed, we’re happy to continue with the treatment if this is still something you wanted to continue with.” He handed you and Katsuki paperwork to fill out, it was long drawn out medical jargon which only translated to you as ‘do you want a baby by any means? Then get ready for hell on earth.’ You both signed the papers, dotted the i’s and triple checked youd crossed the t’s before handing it back to the doctor and holding your breaths, nothing could prepare you for what they were going to do next.

All three nurses walked to your side, pretty young women with bright eyes and eager dreams, smiled sweetly at you as the concern on their faces tried to hide away, two of them held their hands out for you to hold, as another walked Katsuki to the chair opposite you.

“Not a chance. Im staying by her fucking side, if she has to go through pain then so do I. I don’t care if she breaks my hand, im staying right here next to her.”

The women smiled at him endearingly, the love he had for you was not lost on anyone in the room. They all stood at the head of your bed, ready to spring into action at a moments notice, as both doctors walked over, one helped lower the bed so you were laying flat as the other pressed buttons on one of the machines next to you. They hooked you up to wires and ivs, the wince as they inserted needles and tubes into you made Katsukis stomach drop, it was only the start of the hell youd endure and he already looked like it was too much for him. He had to physically stop himself from pushing them away from you, knowing that they were doing their jobs much like he did his, and focused his attention on holding your hand, rubbing your head and trying his best to distract you.

“Remember when it was me on the bed, and you holding my hand? God that needle fucking killed…”

“Kats, it was a blood test, you were being a baby.” You laughed, remembering how he nearly passed out in your arms, acting like they were pouring pure venom into his bloodstream.

After a few moments, the female doctor then spoke, discussing their plans with you, laying out the plan of action.

“So, now that weve stabilised your vitals, this is where it gets…uncomfortable. We need to active your quirk, but…” She looked visibly uncomfortable talking you through the plan, “ we need to overwork it. We need to push you to your breaking point in hopes that your quirk because too exhausted that we can then try to fertilise the egg. If this fails, we may need to temporarily drop your oxygen levels and put your body into a state of which it thinks it’s dying, so that your body will latch onto the egg and fertilise it. Our bodies want to instinctively procreate, so we’re hoping that your body realises it might die so that your quirk can push through and try to evolve itself, try to push its longevity through conception. It’s a long shot, it might not work, but because of the knowledge we have of quirks, we understand that their primal urge to procreate should hopefully be enough. If you’re ready, we’re happy to continue. Mr Bakugo, we need you to help too.”

She handed him two pots, they needed him to give them samples to help fertilise the eggs as they forced your body through excruciating pain. He looked down at the pots and back up at the doctor like she’d just told him the most disgusting, gut wrenching joke of all time.

“You think im gonna be able to cum after you’ve just told us all that?! I couldn’t even if I wanted to…” You placed your hand on his arm, smiling sweetly up at him.

“It’s okay kats, it’ll be worth it. Plus, if you ask nicely they might let me put one of those uniforms on and help you out.” Tears started to well in his eyes as he looked down at the tubes and wires hanging out of you, you looked so trapped and worn down already, he wanted to save you, to whisk you away from the clinical walls and cradle you in your bed together. He looked down at your chest and sighed, hoping that he could at least give them one sample.

“Fine. Everyone fuck off. If im gonna do it, im doing it here with her.” The other doctor put his hand on katsukis shoulder, promptly being pushed off as soon as he touched him.

“Im sorry sir but, you can’t do it here. It’s not sterile to deposit your sample right here, we need it to be as clean and safe as possible for what were about to do. “ Katsuki glared at him, burning his anger into the doctors soul.

“Shes about to flood the fucking building, I think it’ll be alright.” Smoke started to flicker from his fingers, how dare they tell him to go wank in the corner. You laughed nervously at him, trying to defuse the situation.

“Can he at least do it slightly behind me, Yano at the head of the bed? I won’t move too much, not that I even can…” The nurses let out nervous laughs as you held your hands slightly up showing off the wires.

“You can go into the bathroom together if you think it would help to collect the samples. But you cannot under any circumstances touch her body Mr Bakugo. Ideally we would like to start the quirk exhaustion as you’re collecting the sample, but understand that it may not be possible. Y/n, as soon as the samples have been collected you will need to return to the bed and call for us immediately so we can hook you back up and begin the treatment.”

You looked at each other nervously, knowing vaguely what lay ahead, and nodded for them to leave so you could both go into the bathroom together. As the doctors took the ivs out and helped you stand, they left the room, leaving nothing but you, Katsuki and the impending doom of your potential death lingering in the heavy air.

“Right well, let’s get to work then shall we baby?” You smirked at him, undoing your shirt to expose your chest. He hated how quickly his trousers became tight. The anxiety of what was coming was fighting against his urge to rip your clothes off and shove his face into your chest, smoothing you in tender protective kisses and marks. “Remember though, no touching okay?”

The fact he couldn’t touch you maybe his urges take over, he needed you, needed to touch you and tease you, needed to feel your body shake under his. Katsuki was a very physical man, and one of the many things you loved about him was how aggressively he touched your body, he couldn’t keep his hands off you at the best of times, let alone when he was horny. It was torture for him to have to sit there and watch you rub your tits inbetween your fingers, watch you reach up and suck on one of them, staring into his eyes. You knew exactly how to drive him wild, touching or not.

He took his cock from his trousers as he leant against the wash basin in the bathroom, stroking himself already at the sight of you. He’d never been watched before, but seeing how naturally you took on the role of pleasing his eyes was more than enough to get him close already. You reached down and started tracing the outline of your entrance over your trousers, softly moaning his name.

“Oh kats, yeah…right there…fuck, you’re making me so wet. You feel so good touching me like that. Fuck, faster please baby. Im all yours, use me, touch me, fuck me. Make me scream. Baby please. “

His eyes scanned every inch of you, he had to fight every instinct he had not to shove you up again the door and wrap your legs around his hips. He needed to touch you, to taste you, to have you. As he became close he grabbed one of the pots and then with another moan of his name he filled it. His body shaking, leaking cum almost completely overflowing the small pot, as he came down from his high embarrassment and anxiety filled his body again. He knew that as soon as he’d finished, it would all begin. The torture, the extreme pain, the unforgiving breaking of your quirk. He wanted to stall for as long as possible, begging you that he wasnt done, he had more to give, but ultimately saw the look in your eyes, it was time.

[bluhourz]

when he's a doctor

-

The evening had started out fun and carefree. You were out with your closest friends, chatting and laughing over drinks and snacks at your favorite hangout spot. Everything seemed normal, but as the night went on, a strange wave of dizziness washed over you. At first, you brushed it off, assuming you were just tired or dehydrated. But the feeling didn’t pass—it worsened.

“Hey,” one of your friends said, concern flickering in their eyes. “Are you okay? You look pale.”

You tried to respond, but before you could, the world tilted, and everything went black.

---

When you opened your eyes, bright fluorescent lights greeted you. Your head felt heavy, and there was a soft beeping sound nearby. Slowly, you realized you were lying on a hospital bed.

“Hey, you’re awake!” one of your friends exclaimed, relief evident in their voice.

“What... happened?” you mumbled, your throat dry.

“You passed out,” another friend explained. “We were all so freaked out. We called an ambulance just to be safe.”

Before you could process what they were saying, the door to the room opened, and in walked a tall, soft-spoken doctor. His coat was crisp and white, his hair perfectly styled, but it was his kind eyes that held your attention. He looked young, maybe a little older than you, and his presence immediately made the sterile hospital room feel a bit warmer.

“Hi,” he said, his voice smooth and calming. “I’m Dr. Choi Soobin. How are you feeling?”

“I... uh, I’m okay, I think,” you replied, your voice shaky.

Soobin smiled gently and stepped closer, pulling a chair to sit beside your bed. “That’s good to hear. Your friends told us what happened. I just want to ask you a few questions and run some checks to make sure everything’s okay.”

You nodded, unable to tear your gaze away from him. His calm demeanor and soft tone were strangely comforting, making you feel less like a patient and more like a person he genuinely cared about.

He picked up your chart and glanced at it before looking back at you. “Have you been feeling dizzy or lightheaded before tonight?”

“A little,” you admitted. “But I thought it was just because I was tired.”

He nodded thoughtfully, his brow furrowing slightly as he jotted something down. “And have you been eating and drinking enough today? Sometimes dehydration or low blood sugar can cause fainting spells.”

“Not really,” you confessed, feeling a little embarrassed. “I skipped lunch because I was busy.”

Soobin let out a soft chuckle, but it wasn’t condescending. “That might explain it,” he said. “Your body needs fuel, you know.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his light teasing, feeling a strange flutter in your chest.

“Alright,” he continued, reaching for his stethoscope. “I’m just going to check your heartbeat. Can you sit up for me?”

You obeyed, and he leaned in closer, the cool metal of the stethoscope pressing against your skin. His touch was featherlight, and the proximity made your heart race—though you were sure it wasn’t from the fainting spell anymore.

“Your heart’s beating a little fast,” he said with a small smile, pulling back.

You flushed, looking away. Yeah, no kidding, you thought.

After a few more checks—your blood pressure, oxygen levels, and a quick look at your pupils—Soobin set his tools aside and met your gaze again.

“Everything seems normal,” he said, his voice full of reassurance. “It was probably a combination of dehydration and low blood sugar. But I’d recommend taking it easy for the next couple of days. Make sure you’re eating regular meals and drinking plenty of water, okay?”

You nodded, your heart still doing little flips at the way he looked at you. “Thank you, Dr. Choi.”

His smile widened, and he stood, slipping his hands into the pockets of his coat. “You can call me Soobin,” he said. “And if you have any more questions or feel unwell again, don’t hesitate to come back. I’m here most nights.”

There was a hint of something in his tone—playfulness, maybe—that made your cheeks heat up.

As he turned to leave, one of your friends leaned over, smirking. “Is it just me, or was he way too cute to be a doctor?”

You tried to brush it off, but the truth was, Soobin’s soft touch and kind eyes were all you could think about as you left the hospital. You had a feeling you’d be very diligent about following his advice—if only to have an excuse to see him again someday.

[sevasey51]

For the first time since Connor’s wife has been diagnosed with POTS she has a bad flare up. She knows when she wakes up it’s going to be a rough day.

A Day to Rest

Summary: Connor cares for Y/N during a severe POTS flare-up, ensuring she rests and calling Will for extra support, showing his unwavering love and dedication.

The morning sunlight filtered through the curtains as Y/N stirred in bed. From the moment she opened her eyes, she knew something wasn’t right. Her body felt heavy, like every movement required an unbearable amount of effort. Her heart pounded in her chest as if she had just run a marathon, even though she hadn’t moved a muscle. She instinctively reached for her phone on the nightstand to check the time, only to find her hand trembling.

Connor stirred beside her, his sharp eyes immediately noticing the look of discomfort on her face. “Sweetheart?” he asked softly, brushing a strand of hair away from her forehead. “What’s wrong?”

She sighed, closing her eyes briefly. “I think it’s going to be a bad day,” she murmured. “My heart feels all over the place, and I’m already dizzy just lying here.”

Connor sat up, his protective instincts kicking in. He rested a hand on her forehead, checking for a fever. “No temperature,” he said, mostly to himself. “How about I grab your meds and some water?”

She nodded weakly. “Please. I’ll try to sit up in the meantime.”

But as soon as she tried, a wave of dizziness washed over her, and she quickly leaned back against the pillows, her breathing unsteady. Connor returned with a glass of water and her morning medications: Fludrocortisone, Midodrine, and her beta blockers, just in case. He handed them to her one at a time, his other hand steadying the glass as she drank.

“Let’s take it slow today,” he said gently, sitting on the edge of the bed. “No work, no stress—just rest.”

Y/N chuckled softly, though it came out breathless. “Wasn’t exactly planning to run a marathon, Con.”

Connor gave her a lopsided grin. “Good, because you’re on strict orders to stay put. I’ll grab you something to eat. Do you want toast? Maybe some fruit?”

She nodded again, appreciating how he always made her feel cared for without making her feel helpless. As Connor disappeared into the kitchen, she reclined back, trying to steady her breathing and focus on anything other than the pounding in her chest.

When he returned, he had a small tray with toast, a banana, and a cup of tea. He set it down on the nightstand and helped her sit up, his hands steadying her waist as she leaned forward.

“Small bites, sweetheart,” he reminded her, watching her closely.

The day continued slowly, with Connor keeping a watchful eye on her. As her dizziness persisted, he set her up on the couch with a blanket, her feet propped up to help with circulation. Charlie, their golden retriever, seemed to sense that something was wrong and curled up at her feet, his head resting on her lap.

“Good boy,” Y/N whispered, scratching behind Charlie’s ears.

By early afternoon, it was clear that resting wasn’t enough. Her heart rate was still elevated, and even the smallest movements left her breathless. Connor knelt in front of her, concern etched into his face.

“Sweetheart, I think we need to call Will,” he said, referring to her brother.

Y/N hesitated, not wanting to make a fuss, but the look in Connor’s eyes told her he wasn’t taking no for an answer. “Okay,” she agreed softly.

Within twenty minutes, Will was at their doorstep, his medical bag slung over his shoulder. He greeted Y/N with a reassuring smile, though his expression turned serious when he saw how pale she looked.

“Hey, honey,” Will said, sitting beside her on the couch. “Connor filled me in. Let’s take a look.”

He checked her blood pressure, heart rate, and oxygen levels, frowning slightly at the results. “Your heart rate is through the roof, and your blood pressure is pretty low. This is definitely a flare.”

“Is it bad?” she asked nervously.

Will shook his head. “It’s not great, but it’s manageable. The most important thing is keeping you hydrated and your feet elevated. If it gets any worse, though, we’ll need to go to the hospital.”

Connor sat beside her, his hand finding hers. “I’ll keep an eye on her. She’s not going anywhere without me knowing.”

Will smiled at his brother-in-law’s protectiveness. “I’d expect nothing less. Call me if you need anything, okay?”

As the day wore on, Connor stayed by Y/N’s side, making sure she had everything she needed. He held her when she felt overwhelmed, whispering soothing words as she battled through the worst of it.

By evening, her heart rate had started to stabilize, and the dizziness had lessened. She leaned against Connor, exhausted but grateful.

“Thank you, Con,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

He kissed the top of her head. “You don’t have to thank me, sweetheart. I’ll always be here for you. Always.”

And as they sat together, the worst of the day behind them, Y/N knew she was in the best hands possible.

[xkaidaxxxx]

JJK GUYS X READER HAVING A MISCARRIAGE

Pt.1

Megumi

“You both are young to have a kid. I don’t support it.”your mother said. “ all due respect ma’am it’s our decision. Especially hers. It’s her body.” Megumi spoke and with that you grabbed all your things and moved in with him and Gojo. Time went on by then fuck.

“ Megumi! Umi!” You yelled seeing the sheets and your stained shorts. He rushed in shocked seeing what’s in front of him. Gojo came in behind him. “W-what?” You said. “Miscarriage…” Gojo said leaving the room feeling hurt that his son who was excited to be a dad have this happen. You and Megumi held onto each other crying. Mourning. “I-it’s okay. We’ll be okay. Don’t hold anything back. Cry.” He said. He stayed strong. Crying along with you but strong.

Nanami

“N-Nanami…return the clothes..we won’t be n-needing them anymore” you said voice cracking. Tears running down your cheeks. He took the hint. Immediately held you in his arms tightly. “I love you and our little one..I’m sorry this happened to us.” He said. He didn’t cry but his feelings were bursting out. He told himself he has to stay strong to make sure you won’t shut down. “Our baby is gone” you cried. Heartbroken. You both were. “It hurts..we can try again once we’re ready. I love you y/n.” He said.

Gojo

“ why haven’t you told me?” He confronted you. He was hurt. Hurt that he lost his baby. Hurt that he has bad news for Megumi. He was also excited. “I…I didn’t know how. Y-you were so happy and…I couldn’t ruin it for you.. I panicked!” You responded crying. Leaning on the table feeling faint. Gojo walked over holding you up. “Shh sweetheart..everything is going to be okay. I’m here. I won’t lie and say that it’s going to be easy but I know we will be okay. I promise.” He said. Helping you sit on the couch. Megumi walked in checking your pressure, pulse and oxygen levels. “Mom..we’re getting through it as a family.” He said.