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shinestarhwaa · 1 month

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ON-CALL || PARK SEONGHWA

Genre: Smut

Pairing: Seonghwa x Fem Reader

Word Count: 1.5K

Tags/Warnings: Doctor!AU, intern!reader, peds* resident!Seonghwa, kinda inspired by Grey's Anatomy, dirty language, masturbation, dom!Seonghwa, sub!reader, oral sex, unprotected sex, namecalling, slight hairpulling, slight spitting, praise

Helpful guide:

*Peds/pediatrician=doctor for kids

**pre-op = before operation

Taglist: @anyamaris @a-soft-hornytiny @whatudowhennooneseesyou @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @pyeonghongrie-main @woosanbby @dreamlesswonder86 @changbinslovelylegs @jonghostie @lovjensoo @mjyungi @bratty-tingz @sugarnspice630 @stardragongalaxy @bro-atz @wisejudgedragonhairdo @mingisg00dgirl @wh0re4yunsangho

ENJOY!

"Dr. Y/L/N, you will be following Dr. Park Seonghwa today," your supervisor said as she finished her pep-talk of the day. Your supervisor, Dr. Long was a very kind and positive woman, always quirky and bright and she gathered her interns every morning before work to cheer them up and motivate them.

You'd been an intern for a few months and you were slowly getting used to the hard work. You vaguely knew dr. Park from several heroic stories. All the women seemed to swoon over him as they gossiped about his fine looks every day.

Pediatrics was not the field you wanted to pursue but you figured a look couldn't hurt. You met dr. Park Seonghwa right in front of room 204 and suddenly you understood why all the women gushed over his beauty.

Dr. Seonghwa was a tall man with a sleek and defined look. His hair was slightly curly, tucked behind his ear while a few front pieces fell in front of his eyes. His nose was prominent, eyes big like boba pearls and lips thick and they looked like they'd be softer than all the fluffy kittens in the world. God damn.

"H-Hi, dr. Park, I'm your intern for the day," you introduced yourself. "Right, Y/N, I got the note that you'd walk with me today. If you have any questions let me know, okay? Let's get inside now, we're here to see a ten year old boy pre-op**," Seonghwa said as he guided you into the room.

"Good morning Kang-In, you look bright this morning," Seonghwa said with a smile as he greeted the boy named Kang-In. "Thanks doc, I'm feeling uplifted, I'm finally getting my surgery today! I've waited two whole years for my new heart."

"That's right, this is Y/N, she's my intern for the day, she will do a quick exam on you to check up on your stats."

Seonghwa watched you do the exam on the boy and asked you several questions to test your knowledge and he was surprised at your smart and quick answers. You got a kick out of it, watching his impressed expression and his small nodds.

The entire day was pretty fun, Seonghwa was still quite a young doctor and he told about his job with a lot of passion which intrigued you. When you laid in the on-call room that night you couldn't sleep. All you could think of was Seonghwa, the living example of perfection.

You looked around briefly, you're all alone. Would it be horrible if you slipped your hands into your panties just for a little bit? Deciding it would be okay you took your pants off, kicking it on the floor. You opened your legs and felt the damp spot on your underwear. You closed your eyes and slid your hand in your panties, rubbing your wet folds. "Mmh doctor," you moaned softly as you rubbed your clit, coating it with your arousal.

Suddenly the door opened and revealed dr. Park, his eyes widened at the sight of your bare cunt right in front of him. He closed the door instantly and froze for a few seconds just like you. ''What the hell are you doing?'' ''U-Uhm... Just...'' you stammered, not knowing what to do when your superior walks in on you touching yourself to the thought of him. ''S-Sorry sir, fuck I just-''

''Open those legs wider, I can't see it well enough.''

You felt like your heart stopped at those words, breath hitching in your throat. ''W-What? Sir...'' ''Well you obviously wanted someone to walk in on you, so you should at least give me a good show, right?''

You bit your lip and spread your legs wider, giving him a good view on your wet cunt. ''Why give a show when you could come here and taste it?'' This sentence went straight to Seonghwa's dick and before he could hold himself back he kneeled down in front of you, eyeing your glistening wet cunt up and down ''Christ,'' he cursed underneath his breath, ''What a beautiful fucking pussy... Who got you this wet, Y/N?''

Seonghwa licked a stripe up your pussy, swirling his tongue around your clit. ''Y-You, I was thinking about you. Fuck, you're so hot doctor, you are so hot I couldn't help but think of having your cock stuffed inside me,'' you cried out. ''Fuck, you're such a little minx, I love slutty interns,'' he grunted against your pussy, lapping it up and down. His long and skillful tongue felt warm on your labia. Seonghwa's eyes stared deep into your soul, making you whimper.

''Fuck, I'll be your slutty intern, doctor,'' you moaned as Seonghwa dug his tongue deep into your core, fucking it in and out of your hole. You guessed he must fool around with all the women around here but you didn't care. In the moment you wanted nothing more than be used by him.

Your walls clenched around his tongue and you whined out his name. ''Please, it's not enough,'' you cried, ''I need your cock sir, please.'' He smirked against your pussy and lapped at your clit, sending shivers down your spine. Your hands desperately reached for his head full of curly raven locks of hair, grabbing them and pulling them slightly, making the doctor moan into your core. You wanted him badly but he would not budge, eating your pussy like a starved man.

''Fuck, you're such a good little wet slut, all for me to ruin, keep begging for my cock, princess,'' he grunted as he worked on your clit, sucking and biting on it as his nails dug into the flesh of your thighs. ''Y-Yes, yours, doctor! Y-yours to ruin!'' It was wrong, God, it was so wrong of you to sleep with him but why did it feel so good then?

Seonghwa pulled those thoughts right out of your brain again as he sucked particularly hard on your clit, making your hips buck up. You felt the familiar warmth coil in your abdomen and your body grew restless. He held you down and stopped you from moving and you couldn't do anything else but let him make you come undone.

The orgasm hit you like a truck, washing over you as you chanted his name over and over. Seonghwa rode out your high with his delicious tongue and finished it off by pressing soft kisses over your used pussy and thighs. He hurried to pull down his pants and underwear and get on top of you, lifting your legs up and letting them rest on his shoulders. Seonghwa gave you no warning as he pushed inside you, nearly folding you in half as he did.

Soon he started moving at a fast pace, the sound of skin slapping together filling the room definitely able to be heard on the other side of the door. You could swear you heard a few giggles coming from the hallway but Seonghwa didn't accept the fact that your thoughts were drifting off again. He went harder, faster and with his fingers he grabbed your chin, forcing your mouth open. He spat in your mouth and ordered you to swallow, as you did.

A cry left your lips when he suddenly seemed to have found a sensitive spot inside you, something not many of your past lovers were able to do. ''You're such a good fucking slut for me, such a cute little pussy for me to fuck. You're gonna let me do this to you often, hm? Gonna let me fuck this pussy over and over whenever I want it, right?''

You mewled at his words and could only whine and nodd your head, nothing else processing in your head. The sensitiveness of your previous orgasm was building up to a second one and before you knew it you were clenching down on his cock, coming once more for him. ''That's a fucking good slut, that's it,'' he praised you.

He fucked you roughly, seemingly chasing his own orgasm. The doctor pounded into your pussy with such force you nearly forgot how to breathe. You dug your nails into the skin of his shoulders, moaning over and over. He cursed underneath his breath and his thrusts grew sloppier. ''You're gonna let me breed this pretty pussy right? Gonna let me fill it up with my cum? You're such a good little slut, such a good little fucktoy! Fuck, take it baby, take my fucking load,that's it!''

Seonghwa came with a loud moan and his hips stilled, cum spurting deep inside you. The two of you panted softly as he pulled out and laid down next to you. Before you could say anything to him his pager went off and you sighed. He pulled his underwear and pants up and hopped off the bed. ''This isn't over yet,'' he says with a wink before exiting the on-call room.

You sighed deeply and squirmed a little, giddy with the thought of continuing later on.

#kpop #ateez #smut #shinestarhwaa #seonghwa

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multifandomimagines999 · 1 year

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May I get mark sloan x reader please? Like reader has been on call for like three days straight and is super exhausted. And while charting, reader falls asleep standing up and Mark props them up and takes them to an on call room and makes sure they get some rest ? Thank you so much !

Exhaustion, Mark Sloan x reader

Summary: An exhausted reader collapsed and her boyfriend comes to her rescue...then it all makes sense

Warnings: Fluff, Exhaustion, overworking, throwing up

Note: I tweaked it a bit @theichabbieclub but I hope you still like it! I'm just getting back into this.

"You look like crap," commented Alex as we walked down the hallway.

"Oh thanks. I feel like it too," you admitted, "I've been working a double because we're short staffed on the peds floor as you know. So I've been bouncing around non-stop. I'm exhausted."

"And crabby. Clearly you haven't been able to screw your secret boyfriend too."

"Shut it Karev!" you growled, slapping him in the arm, "I am never going to tell you who it is if you keep making comments like that."

"Fine," he grumbled, "I've gotta get to the Nic-U. What have they got you covering today?"

"I've got a marathon surgery with Robbins, Shepherd, and Sloan on a 6 year old girl with a facial tumor."

"Damn that's rad. Good luck."

"Thanks."

You went into the surgery with a clear head, ready to save this little girl's life. We began and about two hours into it, Mark showed up to help work on the facial reconstruction and repair. His portion of the surgery took about three to four hours.

"Alright...I'm done here. She's all yours to finish up with."

"Take my tool," you whispered to Avery, suddenly not feeling well.

"Why?"

"Just do it!"

He took it and then immediately everything went black.

3rd POV

"Dr. (Y/L/N)!" yelled Robbins as her resident's body hit the floor.

"That's why she handed me her tool," Jackson realized.

"Can someone please check on them please?" asked Arizona as she continued working.

"I got it!" Mark announced before rushing over to her side.

Their relationship was still a secret, so he tried his best to hide his romantic concern in the moment. He scooped her up as carried her out of the OR to an empty gurney. He took her to a private room and began examining her.

--------

You woke up to a flashlight shining in your eyes and a hand on your forehead. As the darkness disappeared, you saw that the flashlight belonged to Mark. You groaned as your head pulsed with pain.

"What happened?" you asked as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

"You might want to tell me... You passed out in the OR. I hooked you up to an IV because from the looks of it you're severely dehydrated."

"Mark I-" you were interrupted by a horrible feeling in your gut.

You jerked up, reaching for the bucket before puking. When you were done emptying you stomach, you collapsed back on the bed. You suddenly felt sweaty with hair plastered against your forehead.

"Dr. Sloan, I may know what's wrong?" Karev jogged in, out of breath, "I heard the news about (Y/F/N). Three of the peds kids just came down with the flu. All three kids were your patients that you've been dealing with during this double shift. And with you being so overworked, your immune system was weaker, so combined with the dehydration, you got sick."

"Well shit."

"Looks like I have my diagnoses," Mark replied, and you just glared at him.

"I hate you right now."

"I know."

"Wait a minute?" Karev questioned, stepping in the room and shutting the door, "Sloan's your secret boyfriend?!"

"You tell anybody, I will kill you. You understand me Alex? I will make sure every girl in this hospital knows what a man whore you are and you will never get laid again. Got it?"

"Yeah yeah, calm your panties. I'll let Bailey know you're so sick with the flu that you can't drive and that I asked Dr. Sloan to take care of you since he's already been exposed. Okay?"

"Thank you Alex."

"Yeah whatever."

***

You laid on the couch with Mark, all cuddled up in sweats and his shirt. While you were hot to the touch, you yourself were feeling cold. Your body ached and your head was still throbbing. You rested your head in his lap while he played with your hair soothingly.

"How are you feeling babe?" he asked, looking down at you.

"Like shit," you admitted, making him chuckle.

"Well you still look cute if that makes you feel any better."

"A little."

"Mark please. You shouldn't see me like this. We've only been together for three months."

"(Y/F/N), we slept together before we started dating and on the first date we talked about our deep dark issues. I think it's okay if I see you with the flu. Now let me please be there for you."

"Fair point."

Anytime you felt you were going to be sick, he was there, holding your hair back and assuring you soothingly. Anything he could do to help you, he wanted to.

Mark held your hair back as another round came up. God this was hell. Physical and emotional hell. When he walked out to go grab something, you laid down on the cool tile. He came back in with a water bottle and some crackers along with a smile.

"What? The tile is nice and cold."

He helped pull you up so you were sitting up against the cabinets, "You know you need to drink to re-hydrate. And these crackers might help."

Your hair was a mess as he brushed it out and sat beside you. He rubbed your back lovingly until your eyes felt heavy and all you wanted to do was sleep.

"Alright. Lets get you to bed," he spoke, sweeping you into his arms.

He placed you into bed and disappeared before coming back with a fresh garbage can. After placing it beside the bed, he climbed in next to you.

"Mark, you don't have to stay with me. You could get sick and-"

"I'm not leaving unless you need me to get something."

"What about work?"

"I'll call in. You're more important."

A smile crossed your face as you rolled over, resting your head on his chest. His arm snaked around you, one around your waist and the other stroked your hair. Finally, you were feeling a little bit better.

"Try to sleep. I'll still be here."

"Thank you," you mumbled sleepily, "I love you."

"I love you too."

#greys anatomy x reader #mark sloan #mark sloan x reader #mark sloan fluff #greys anatomy imagines

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astralflower-writes · 7 months

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just visiting

♡ pairing: alex karev x female! reader

♡ genre: angst to fluff

♡ warnings: small season 9 spoilers (plane crash) & family issues

♡ part two, part three, part four, special scenes

♡ check out my grey's anatomy masterlist here

going back to seattle will never be one of your plans. but, your mother had to pick seattle as one of the destinations for your so called family road trip.

to add more, you had to stay in town for a few days. it's not like you hate the city.

it's where you've met your soulmate. your person, alex.

but when you were on your last year residency, you had to leave. not only because of all the crisis that hit seattle grave mercy west that time, you were also offered a job at hopkins, your dream hospital. to start your fellowship.

fortunately, alex was also offered to start a fellowship there.

but, the plane crash happened.

he couldn't just leave the hospital. especially with what happened to arizona.

"you can't be for real y/n." he said following you onto your shared bedroom.

he proposed that morning and now, you're packing your stuff up.

"we said we'd stay!"

but, now you can't.

"is this about your family y/n? is that why you can't answer me? i swear if they're talking crap about me again i'll–"

"you want to know how they're treating me because of us?" stopping at by the doors.

"you know about this. alex i–"

"and yet you listen to them huh." scoffing at what you said.

"if you walk out of that door, we're done y/n."

after five years, you were back. you convinced yourself you were just visiting and checking the sights you never seen or had the chance to see when you were still living in the city.

you were on your hotel room when your four year old boy, lucas, who just came back from a walk with your parents suddenly threw up on the carpet.

"i don't feel good mama."

you called for an ambulance and of course it brought you to where you started your career as a doctor.

as your son was brought in the emergency room. one of your former colleague and a very close friend noticed you.

"y/n?"

"meredith!"

she walked towards you. "how are you? and you've got a kid!" she said hugging you.

"i'm fine, mer." you replied, hugging her back.

"are you staying long?"

"does alex—" she was interrupted when your son started to cry and vomit again.

you came back to his side and started to rub his back for comfort.

"no. he doesn't know i'm here." you replied shortly.

"just so you know he's the one on-call on peds today."

"and let's catch up after work." with that she hugged you again before going back to her patient.

while waiting for the doctor on-call to come down. you made the time to pray that it's arizona or another doctor will come down.

"where's the–" he stopped in the middle of the emergency room.

he certainly did not expect you to be somewhat in seattle. and of course, he did not expect for you to have a kid.

he saw the way you were talking to the child. promising something which made the kid smile. but shortly after, the kid reached for the basin and vomited again.

from that, he got out of his daze and walked towards the two of you.

"how are you feeling little champ?" he said standing on the bedside.

"i don't like it." he said turning himself towards you.

alex looked at you and asked you what happened. "he was fine before he went out with my parents. he said he ate something from the sea."

"from the sea huh." alex said examining your kid.

"i tried to ask which is it but he's really not in the mood to be specific." you said brushing his hair out of his face.

after alex looked at him more "he's already getting fluids and i already ordered some meds but i'd like to keep him overnight for observation."

you agreed. "y/n i–" he was interrupted when lucas started to call for you.

"i'll check up on him again later." he said before letting himself out of the emergency room.

after settling in and calling your parents. you had the chance to take a breather. walking in the halls with some of the staff recognizing you. you finally reached the cafeteria.

"can we talk?" alex's voice came from behind. you motioned for him to take the vacant seat in front of you.

"so...you've got a kid huh." he said starting the conversation.

"yeah. he's smart and funny..."

"i met him three years ago from a program we did back at boston. and instantly fell in love with him. can't believe that i'd be falling in love an infant though." both of you letting out a laugh.

"you know, i waited for you text or something." he spoke again.

"i waited over there too." you said smiling sadly at him.

"so you're the chief of peds surgery now huh." you said pointing at his coat. "yeah. robbins gave me the job, so she can do neonatal."

"are you staying?"

you stood up from the table before answering. "we're just visiting."

after that talk with alex, you went back to lucas' room. he's finally asleep after vomiting all afternoon.

"you can go back to the hotel and rest up." sitting at the end of the bed. "lucas' doctor, karev. isn't he that ex-boyfriend of yours?" your father asked as they were gathering their things.

"it's a good thing you listened to us cause you're doing way better than him, i mean have you seen him? hopkins is way better than this–"

"can we drop this conversation dad?" you said sighing as took as seat beside your child's bed.

"i'm just saying that you're doing way better than–" with your father not dropping the subject, it made you mad. all those years of torment of them hearing how great you are now just because you listened to them and left seattle.

"do you think i was fine after i left this hospital? i listened to everything the both of you said because i can't bear how you were treating me."

"the only good thing that happened to me over there is lucas! and don't think i didn't know what you said about me adopting him cause i–" you received a slap from your mother.

"how dare you speak to your father like that? we were only looking out for you and you adopting a kid you just saw at a program was–"

"out. i've heard enough." your mother protesting woke up lucas. "mama... where's grandma and grandpa going?"

"the-they're going home sweetie. we'll just visit them after we go home tomorrow okay?" rushing to his side so you could help him go back to sleep.

after your parents left, meredith was standing by the door. "are you okay? cause this is just my cup of tea y/n, i mean, mommy and daddy issues?"

laughing from what she said, you let her take a seat on the chair by bedside. "so you heard the whole thing."

"pretty much."

"well, hopkins was great. but you know, this place was my home, mer." sighing, and thinking that all of the things that happened today made you tired enough for days.

"i could hire you." she said nonchalantly. "are you serious?" you said in disbelief.

"you don't think i'm serious? i kinda own this place now."

"we could head down and sign the contract." looking at her, checking to see if she's really saying the truth.

"no. i–i can't." standing up and hushing your child as he started to turn again. "why? is it alex?"

"it's kinda stupid but yeah."

"what's stupid is the both of you are still in love with each other and you're not together."

"pretty sure he moved on mer. the minute i walked out on him. we were done." you said getting a cup of water and some apple slices which you presume was for your child.

"no. he still loves you."

"i left him after he proposed mer."

meredith stopped at what she was about, shocked at what she's hearing. "he proposed?"

"then i left him." you sternly added. "so that's why he always have this small box on his coat or pocket."

"what?"

"i think you weren't supposed to know that." she suddenly changed the topic about you and your program at hopkins and it turned to how you met your kid and how she loves her kids. just the both of you catching up.

the next day, meredith came back to check on the both of you for the third time. "are you sure you don't want to work back here, cause i told bailey and she's more than glad to have you back."

"mer–"

"we're moving here mama?" your kid said looking up from where he was playing with his toys.

"do you want to live here, sweetheart?" meredith asked him as she sat beside him.

"can we live near auntie mer?" lucas asked too excited. meredith looked at you with a smug grin on her face.

"bailey has an offer that tops hopkins." she said as she started to play with your kid again.

"fine. i'll talk to bailey, but i don't promise anything."

"i'll take it."

you didn't know how she convinced you to talk to bailey about your job here. but boy, meredith and bailey pulled out the big guns.

"look, i love the offer dr. bailey, but i just got here yesterday and–"

"we'll keep the position open for you dr. y/l/n, it would be really great to have you back with us." with that, you left the office wondering how you and lucas would be happier here.

to your surprise, alex was the one playing with your child.

"hey, where's aunt mer?" asking as you walked in. "she has a person to cure, mama." your kid said not looking up.

"you're mama's back now, champ. i'm going now." alex said as he ruffled lucas' hair. "don't go! i love playing with you!"

"baby i'm sure dr. alex has some patients to cure too." your kid started to have tears forming on his eyes, but he tried his best not to let one tear out.

"how about we, uhh--" you can't find a pretty good excuse for lucas to feel better.

"hey how about this. you and you're mom are going home in a few hours, right?" alex asked and he nodded. "you play with your mama first, and i'll come back after curing my patients?" lucas looked at you for a signal and you smiled at him which he took and nodded at alex. "you promise uncle alex?"

alex was quite taken aback by the way he called him. the whole time the both of you were around, he always called him by 'dr. alex'

"yeah. i'll be quick."

you mouthed thank you at alex and went to your kid's side, starting to play with him.

"ma?"

"yes?" the both of you are now eating your lunch, well you're doing most of the eating.

"auntie mer said uncle alex is special to you." almost choking at what he said, you tried to hide the coughing. "she told you that?"

sipping water trying to compose yourself. "h-he is, sweetheart."

#grey's anatomy imagines #grey's anatomy x reader #greys anatomy imagines #greys anatomy x reader #alex karev x reader #alex karev imagines #astralflower-writes

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orion-nottson · 9 months

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devil’s in the details | tfp!megatron x reader

A/N: i have tfp megatron brain rot. like i know he’s cray cray and deluded, but literally so am i we’re made for each other he’s mine

also this obvi deviates from canon, bc there is no way on god’s green earth that dreadwing and starscream could coexist semi-peacefully.

also, please be warned that i haven’t written transformers fanfic since i was like 14 💀💀 fought for my LIFE with the terminology (had to check my old WATTPAD stories to find some vocab 💀)

summary: lord megatron propositions you. it’s a rather bold request.

content: SMUT, 18+ ONLY, minors DNI, femme!cybertronian!reader, seeker!reader, sticky sexual interfacing, breeding kink, wee lil bit of choking, technically boss/employee relationship, power dynamic (it gets semi-resolved), implied past relationship/thought unrequited love, average decepticon emotional constipation, business arrangement procreation

word count: 6,367

~ * ~ * ~

The Decepticon warship lingers somewhere over the southern pole of Earth, resulting in a dramatic decrease in temperature, even with the efficiency of Cybertronian technology. You shift your wings for the umpteenth time, armor plates releasing air to alleviate the discomforting chill that’s started to bother you. Of course, it was far from being so cold that you needed to worry about your core temperature, but you are a Seeker from Vos, and Vos was always warm.

The thought makes your wings tremble again, so you hurry yourself to your quarters with a bit more haste.

It wouldn’t suddenly be warm and tropical, but at least you’d be able to curl up and shiver in privacy. Recharge sounds particularly nice too, considering you’ve been up for several cycles trying to appease Lord Megatron’s endless demands. Inwardly, you roll your optics— There seems to be nothing you can do that would satisfy him.

The corridor finally breaks into the wing that houses Decepticon high command, where yours and your fellow officers reside. Your room is down almost the entire expanse of the hall, the turn right before where Megatron’s personal habsuite lies. From where you’re walking, you can spot the sleek, black metal door. A chill runs up your back struts, and your processor convinces you it’s from the icy cold that’s overtaken the Nemesis.

“Curse this inhospitable, organic planet.” Muttering to yourself dissuades you from also blaming your Master, who was no help either, if you were to be honest. He could shove his “not wanting to expend precious Energon on unnecessary heating” decree up his tail pipe.

You resign yourself to some rather cold nights for the foreseeable future. Perhaps... If you played your cards right, as the humans say, you could convince Soundwave to pilot the ship north. Maybe somewhere near Hawaii...

A sharp, gravelly voice from behind you calls your name, and you spin around to see your Lord and Master a ways down the corridor from you. Immediately bringing yourself to attention, you straighten your back struts and bow politely.

“My liege.” You say, thanking Primus you’ve become so accustomed to Megatron’s thunderous shouts that you no longer jump, let alone flinch, when they occur. The silver mech strides up to you easily, displaying all the strength of a warrior in the confidence of his steps.

“Retiring to your quarters?” He asks austerely, as if he’s ever concerned himself with your whereabouts, let alone personal routine. Unease creeps up on you, so you shift on the thrusters of your peds and cross your servos over your chassis. Wings fluttering, you reply slowly, “Well, yes.”

“Allow me to accompany you there.” The silver mech says brightly, and it’s such an absurdly peculiar request for both the mech saying it and the situation at hand. You instinctively snort a laugh.

“I do believe I know the way to my own habsuite, my Lord.” You say before you can stop the words from coming out, and immediately regret them once they do. You meet Megatron’s hard stare sheepishly, wings dropping timorously. Forgetting your place in the grand scheme of things is not wise amongst the Decepticon ranks.

To your utter shock, you’re not met with a vicious reprimand and instead Megatron grins— this wickedly suave thing— and purrs, “Humor me.”

And all you can say is, “Of course.”

Megatron hums appreciatively, brushing past you as he takes the lead, like he always does. You step in time behind him, nearly colliding into his back struts when he suddenly halts, and you stumble backwards a few steps. The looming mech pivots, glancing down at you with a quizzical expression in his glowing optics.

“Seekers are a rare breed, yes?” Lord Megatron asks, and whatever game he’s begun to play with you genuinely stumps any reasoning you attempt. Opening your mouth, your optics dart over his face, trying to decode whatever message your Master is sending and coming up empty.

“Er... Yes, my liege? Even before the war, Vos was not a populous city-state. There are probably... even less now.” You reply cautiously, becoming very put off as Megatron takes a step towards you. He looks as impassive as ever, though you’re beginning to see a very curious appraising expression overtaking his faceplates. It begins with the upcurve of his mouth, derma pulled into the most wolfish grin you’ve ever seen on the mech.

Utterly bizarre. Your processors want to reset because this Megatron is starting to look like the studly gladiator of Kaon you’d hear be lasciviously giggled about, not the ruthless, merciless tyrant he’s supposed to be.

“I have a rather... avant-garde proposition for you, my most loyal Seeker.” Megatron purrs, his servos clasped easily behind him as you’ve seen him too many times before, often when he schemes. He’s also talking to you as if this is casual, expected business of him; matter-of-fact and cordial, with his usual cool drawl.

Before you can reply, Megatron turns sharply once more and begins walking down the corridor, stopping after a few steps when he realizes you hadn’t started with him. He turns his helm to look back at you, this time there’s this strangely unreadable expression on his faceplates.

“Follow me.” He says simply, and without a second thought, you do.

Even though you’re a Seeker with naturally long legs, his pedsteps are even longer strides, so you have to exert some effort in keeping up with Megatron. It adds to the growing franticness that’s begun to bubble up inside your chassis.

While not exactly fear, though that’s certainly part of it, you’ve been a Decepticon and aboard the Nemesis under Megatron’s direct command long enough to know that when he becomes cryptic, it means trouble. Or at least a command that you’d rather not be the one to deal with. Bluntly asking what the frag he’s on about wouldn’t be the best course of action, but you know that he likes you enough not to offline you immediately if you did.

So you do.

“My Lord, what exactly are you asking of me?” You inquire, noting with slight abject horror as Megatron approaches the door to your quarters and types in your lock code with ease. Of course, he is the leader after all. Instead of answering your question, he makes you feel even more uneasy by throwing you a mysteriously sultry look and quipping, “Let me have you if only for a breem. Or longer should I entertain you.”

You catch the flash of his ruby optics, their intentions indiscernible, and then he disappears into your habsuite like it’s his own.

There’s something to it, an itch of a thought that’s begun to decipher the puzzle and put together the pieces. Lately, Megatron has been far more... involved with you, more eager at your presence, and it was blatantly obvious that he grew quite miffed when others got too close. It was no secret to anyone— From Soundwave and Starscream to a lowly technician— that Megatron had an optic for you (many did, frankly) and thus he was quite possessive of your wiles and charms as well.

This line of thought leads you to step into your room, slowly and evenly as if it’s unmarked territory and not the quarters that were assigned to you millennia ago.

“Lord Megatron...” You trail off, catching his stare just as he sets your old null ray back on your weapons rack, where most of your old, dismantled, and prized tools are located. Your null ray had been a favorite, until some blasted Autobot blew out the important bits that kept it working. That had stung, and even eons later you still curse that specific Autobot to the Pits.

Megatron flexes his claws, and with a flourish he clasps his servos behind him once again. His red optics scan the entirety of your quarters, lingering on your berth until they come back to rest on you. His gaze is equal parts unnerving and fascinating, as if he’s deconstructing you armor by armor, stripping you down until he’s watched your spark pulse.

His optics, like twin red suns, center you at their universes, and you feel oddly... flattered at their amorous disposition.

“It is no secret that I have watched you for some time.” Megatron starts, tilting his helm as he becomes pensive. You nod dumbly, hardly processing a word he’s saying. Megatron takes a single step towards you, looming like a shadow. In the dim lighting of your room, his silver armor catches all the chiaroscuro, his violet accents hued to black. Only his glowing, fiery optics remain bright. He continues.

“I admit,—” Megatron drawls your name deliciously, “— That I have found myself... captivated by your beauty. Entranced by your prowess, both in battle and mind.”

“I...” Your vents hitch, wings shivering at the praise. Blinking rapidly to ensure this isn’t some monumentally vivid dream, you clear your intake and say, “I don’t know what to say. Thank you, my Lord.”

Megatron laughs, that slight chuckle that sounds halfway between his engines roaring and something genuine that comes from the spark. The silver mech’s rolls his shoulders, armor hissing as it releases air. Wildly, he confesses something you never would have expected from him, “I believe myself bewitched.”

His servos have clasped themselves into fists at his sides, and briefly you wonder if he’s angry with you, then his entire frame relaxes like he’s decompressing after a long spar with Dreadwing.

“Tell me, my little Seeker, why have you denied yourself of me for so long?” Megatron asks it like a tease, like he’s some boon to be revered or a sacred sword to be wielded. Heat rises beneath your armor plating, and your processors race kilometers a nanosecond to find a suitable answer. Or at least one that doesn’t make you sound like some lovesick femmeling.

You couldn’t lie and say you had no... feelings for your Master, who was as handsome and dark as he was powerful and cunning. Megatron was once a gladiator of Kaon, and gladiators on Cybertron were what you had often admired, marveling at their strength, drive, and raw spark. Megatron had been no different, though you also found his commanding presence and impressive intellect to be even more attractive.

That was really why you’d joined the Decepticon cause all those millennia ago; Drawn to your Master’s fight to bring equality to the rigid castes and to seize control of the Energon supply to better disperse it by his charismatic allure.

And somehow, Megatron knew all of this.

“It would have been insubordination if I acted upon my... desires.” You reply, crossing your arms over your ample chassis with a shrug. Megatron matches your collected temperament with a hum, staring down at you with unreadable red optics.

“Indeed. Though I wish you’d had disobeyed, my little Seeker.” Megatron purrs, taking a step towards you that closes the space between your frames and boxes you in. His EM field magnifies the atmosphere around you, tingling at the periphery of yours.

“M-My liege?” You gape, faceplates feeling hot as metal left in direct sunlight. He chuckles, and sinfully the tip of his glossa runs over his pointed denta. Your spark skips a beat, owlishly watching

“If I had known sooner that you wanted me as direly as I did you, then this song and dance would have concluded vorns ago.” Megatron growls, optics flashing with not anger, but lust. He takes another step, and you’re speechless.

“That being said, I am patient. I have no qualms with how long we have waited, nor will I if you choose to wait longer.” One of the tyrant’s long, clawed digits clicks at the bottom of your chin, tilting your face upwards. His touch is delicate, like you’d break if he pushed too hard. Honestly, you probably would if he did. Part of you wants to see him try.

“What did you want to ask of me?” You whisper, optics fluttering until they stay half-lidded and dewy under the carnal scrutiny of your Lord. Megatron grins, a sliver of sharp denta flashing in the lowlights of your habsuite. He takes a final step towards you, a half-shuffle that does well to close the gap between your frames, the air warming from the work of your combined engines. You hope he feels the way your spark races, hope he feels the heat emanating from your core.

“Give me an heir, carry a sparkling of my code and stand beside me as my queen.” With each word, laden with desire until it shows in his optics that drip with lust, Megatron has you against the wall of your habsuite, one servo tracing the sleek edge of your wing.

It’s entirely intoxicating, and against your better judgment and all remaining reason— and mostly because you haven’t had a good, hard frag in ages— you moan.

It’s a soft, angelic sound that barely catches on the audials, but it makes Megatron grin like a shark. You gasp, affronted, optics flickering, “My liege!”

“Have I offended you?” He breathes, and suddenly his mouth is against your neck cables, each word leaving the softest of kisses on your Energon lines. Your resolve nearly crumbles entirely, each brush of his dermas like a shot of high grade to the systems. You sigh, vents hissing, and place one servo on his chassis. Beneath the broad expanse of silver armor, his engines rumble like thunder on the horizon. It makes you pulse with need.

“No.” You whisper, wanting to sing as Megatron kisses the slope of your jaw, then pecks the side of your mouth, agape with shock. He pulls back, the heat of him evaporating as soon as he’s once again standing at his full height. You tremble, not from the cold, but from his absence.

It’s not something you’d ever given much thought about, your feelings towards your Lord and Master, but it’s something that’s come rushing back. All the suppressed thoughts, the dashed dreams, the impossible futures... They come back to you and leave you weak in the knee joints, cooling fans whirring from the memories of the fantasies you’d entertained when you’d had long midnights alone.

“What say you then?” Megatron’s stare is hard, unshaking and fully serious. He wants to have a sparkling with you, wants you to bear him an heir— He wants you as his queen and equal, to stand beside him and lead the Decepticon cause. The expression on his face is a cross between a wild animal, wanting to ravage you the nanosecond you say Yes, and the warlord with enough resolve and self-restraint to accept if you say No.

It’s all so much at once. Eons of time made up in just a single question. Details and technicalities will have to be conferred over later, as for now you’re content with the conditions as-is.

“Well... You are a handsome mech, my liege.” You reply, teasing him by placing a chaste kiss directly on the Decepticon insignia on his chassis. He doesn’t say anything, only his engine rumbles more audibly. You look up at him and salaciously imply with a coy smirk, “I do believe we’d make a fine clutch of sparklings.”

And then you find yourself swept up into his arms, back struts and wings pressed against the wall, your Lord’s hips slotted perfectly against yours. The more base urges inside you squeal, your Seeker coding nearly overtaking you and having you present to him like a turbofox in heat.

Not one to be outdone, Megatron quips, “And you are quite the striking femme— Shall I ravage you against the wall or your berth?”

You laugh, cut off only when Megatron captures your dermas in his, drowning you in the roughness of a mech starved of Energon. He kisses like he owns the practice and has made it an artform; Dragging your dermas with his, glossa invading your mouth, denta nipping dangerously close to sensitive nodes and wiring. You moan and gasp, coming to the realization that one of your servos grips his wrist and the other is flat against his chassis.

You shutter your optics, reveling in Megatron’s power and dominance, wanting so desperately for him to devour you. The warmth blossoms, spreading throughout your core until you feel charges pulse at your interface panels that have you whimpering.

After what feels like vorns, Megatron parts and your dermas unlock with a metallic pop. Megatron’s mouth ghosts over yours, and he hums as he repeats himself, “Berth or wall, little Seeker?”

“The berth, my liege.” You urge breathlessly, a delighted sound escaping you as Megatron heaves you from the wall and carries you to your desired destination. He isn’t gentle when he deposits you on your berth, doesn’t mind the wings, so you hiss when your back struts connect with the metal beneath you. Megatron manages to keep himself between the smooth metal of your thighs as he hitches one knee up onto the berth.

“I wonder,” Megatron stops to kiss you deeply once more, making your processors spin, “If this is an auspicious position for conception.”

A bite to the dermas stifles your wanton moan. Your Lord may not be fully aware of it yet, but each mention of being sparked, of bearing his heirs, has your more base urges spiraling out of control. While Vos was not populated by many Seekers, the need to breed is more hardwired into the programming than most other frame types. His words act like fuel to the fire.

“O-Oh— I can only hope.” You gasp, your whimpering cries smothered by Megatron’s dermas in yet another bruising, brusque kiss. This time, he lingers, slows down as if he savors the taste of you on his glossa. Your servos grip his shoulders, smoothing along his breadth before your pointed digits grip at the armor panels high on his back. Megatron responds most enjoyably, using one servo to anchor himself above you and the other to caress down your body.

His servo travels from the curve of your waist, talons scratching at your paint, down to the slope of your hip where it rests heavy and warm on the junction of your thigh. He teases the sharp point of his thumb digit on the transformation seam nearest your interface panels, causing you to arch your back struts like a cat. Megatron uses this opportunity to settle a servo on the low of your back struts, where he pinches at the sensitive nodes at the bases of your wings. That makes you cry out, your cooling fans whirring loudly as a charge builds up deep inside you.

You’ve never been this close to an overload so quickly before, though you’ve had many sleepless nights built up to bring you to this moment. And Megatron proves his expertise in the berth, past rumors and gossip proven to hold more truth than you once thought.

Your entire frame feels electrified, your lower body feels like it’s on fire, the heat centered gloriously on your interfacing parts. Particularly your valve and anterior node, which feel wet and pulse beneath the panel with each of your sparkbeats.

“You react so gratifyingly.” Megatron purrs, his gravelly drawl like fine high grade on the audials, uncharacteristically sweet and sensual. He glances down at your interface panels, where your glowing transfluid is beginning to seep out along the seams. With a devious grin, Megatron meets your gaze just as he presses his thumb digit to your overheated panel.

“Megatron!” You cry his name, forsaking honorifics, and nearly overloading on the spot. Almost unconsciously, you send a command and your valve panel slides open, revealing your weeping slit and throbbing anterior node. You cry out again when Megatron wastes no time and starts tight, small circles on the sensitive bundle of mesh wire and circuitry.

“Beautiful.” He hums, quickening his pace on your anterior node as he notices sparks fly as your charge builds. You grip his back, claws digging at his silver armor and leaving scratches in his already worn paint. Megatron leans in, steals your dermas in a kiss, keeps circling your wet node, and just as you see warnings for an imminent overload— He stops.

The charge doesn’t die, but it decreases to a staticky tingle, and you part from the kiss, scandalized that he’s prevented your overload. You gape at Megatron, giving him a glare that could rival the World Destroyer’s himself. He only offers you a sly look.

“My liege.” This time you growl the title past grit denta, bucking your hips against your Master’s still servo. He hums, your anger meaning nothing to him, though indulging you by brushing two digits along the transfluid-soaked mesh of your valve. You gasp, optics blowing wide as he pushes them in, mindful of his sharp claws, stretching you wonderfully.

There’s a slight burn at first, pain sensors sending alerts, alleviated as your frame adjusts to accommodate his thick talons. Megatron eases his digits back until they are almost out completely, then sinks them back in. Your knees come up, peds shaking as you hook them behind his back struts.

“Patience, my dear,” Megatron kisses your neck cables, “Is a virtue.”

And like he had your anterior node, he works your valve slowly, steadily building the charge that buzzes all the pleasure centers in your frame. Warnings for an overload screen your vision again, this time your optics flicker as it grows closer. Staccato vents escape your intake, fans skipping cycles and hitching, encouraging Megatron to go faster, digits plunging in and out of your valve with sopping, moist noises. The room smells like interface; the tinny tang of transfluid, the almost-burnt smell of metal-on-metal friction.

You moan, this time a long keen that crackles in your audials, and Megatron responds with the first pleasured sound you’ve heard from him: A low, throaty groan that he practically strangles in his intake like he doesn’t want it to escape.

“M-My liege, plea-please.” You whine, writhing, bucking your hips even as Megatron’s servo relinquishes your wings in order to still them. You sob, systems on the fritz as the charge crackles, your overload closing in due to Megatron’s working servo and digits. He laughs again, the breathy one that you adore, and surprisingly heeds your plea.

“I want you like this when you take my spike.” Megatron hisses, doubling his pace and making you scream. The wet squelch of your mesh grows louder, and with each thrust of his servo, his knuckle joint brushes your throbbing anterior node, whiting out your optics.

“I want you disheveled.” The tyrant presses close to you, tightening the cyclic thrusts of his digits, biting at the base of your neck cables. Your helm lolls to the side, voice crackling in constant whines as you squeeze your optics shut. He growls, sharp denta piercing an Energon line close to your shoulder armor, the pain mixing with pleasure and having you singing.

“I want you desperate.” Megatron snarls like an Earthen beast, the gruffness of his voice matching the hot stretch of your valve. Transfluid soaks the inner seams and mechanisms of your thighs, spilling onto your berth below. Megatron drags his dermas to yours, his glossa hot and heady as he shoves it in your mouth and dominates the kiss. You moan against him, gripping him tight and hearing the sound of metal screech as its torn.

The silver mech groans, low and rough, breaking the kiss and allowing his helm to fall besides yours. To the cables and wires of your neck, he leaves open-mouth kisses, condensation hot from his vents, then pulls himself up to your audials and whispers harshly:

“I want you as mine.”

The last word is punctuated by a hard push of his digits and his thumb squashing your anterior node, and your overload hits you like a system crash. You wail, wings fluttering and hitting the berth with metallic clangs as your body seizes, the charge overtaking your processors. Pleasure like molten lava consumes your frame, transfluid squirting out onto Megatron’s forearm like paint.

The overload lasts eons, like some supernova of a dying star. Your legs lock, armor plating shivering, wings hitched high and scraping against your berth. Maybe this is what death is, you think illogically, Maybe I’ve joined with the Allspark.

“Beautiful.” Megatron breathes again, his optics glowing in awe, “Positively beautiful.”

It takes a click for your processor to compute what he said, then another for your optics to blink back on. Coolant tears leak out the corners, blurring your vision. Your mouth gapes, dermas damp with condensation, your cooling fans whirring in loud in your audials. The grip you have on Megatron loosens, servos slipping until they fall upon his shoulders.

The charge in your valve mesh and anterior node quivers and bounces, and you realize with a pleasant tremble that Megatron’s digits are still firmly inside you.

“Megatron.” You coo his name, “Megatron.”

He says yours back, like all you’ve done and are doing is exchanging designations in a routine meeting and it reminds you of a time when things were simpler between the two of you. It’s been eons since Megatron’s seen you the way his ruby red optics gaze upon you now, eons more since you’ve felt seen.

War has made you both volatile, too tough and too angry to do anything else but fight, and fight some more. But here, in the privacy of your berth, blanketed by the secrecy of darkness: War can’t touch you. Nothing can.

“How I have yearned for you...” Megatron cups your faceplates, his servo cool against your overheated frame. You smile, still hazy from your overload and the lingering sensation of his other servo very much connected carnally to you, feeling like you’ve overdone yourself on too much high grade.

A switch flips inside you, the one that reminds you’re no fainting femme, but one that asks and will take regardless. You are a Seeker, after all— It’s in your code to want offspring.

“Give me a sparkling, my Lord.” Even though your voice wavers, it still sounds like an immutable command. The contemplative look on Megatron’s face morphs into the devilish one, and he snarls, removing his digits from your core. A thin line of gooey transfluid stretches between you and his servo, until Megatron brings it to his mouth and his glossa licks along the length of his digits. His optics narrow in as he hums.

“You presume you can command me.” And yet he obeys again, his interface panel unlatching with a hiss. His spike emerges, a long, thick one that fills in sections, ribbed along its length. Glowing transfluid oozes in droplets from its tip, rolling down the underside of his spike. Your jaw drops, both in want and slight alarm— Megatron is a large mech, you should have better anticipated a large spike.

“Know this, dearest: I will take you, ruin you, fill you up until my code takes.” Megatron promises, lining his bobbing spike up with your throbbing valve. He then grabs your hips, propping them up for a better angle. You quiver, writhing on your berth and bracing your servos on his forearms. His armor is hot under your touch, and your claws dig into the smooth of his paint. Then you match his stare, licking your dermas.

“Frag me like you mean it.”

Megatron suddenly thrusts his spike into you and you wail, unforgiving of your smaller stature. The delicate mesh and sensitive wires give and mold around the hot rod of his pulsing length, forming a slick suction around your lover. He groans, easing back then thrusting in with earnest. Your thighs tremble as you take him, each rimmed circlet of his spike passing into you, dragging deliciously on your valve’s walls.

It’s a tight fight, even with being loosened by Megatron’s thick digits. The transformation seams on your hips and thighs stretch, soft whirs and clicks as your frame adjusts to take him. He’s the biggest you’ve ever had, and the strongest too. The power in his hips drives you up the berth, and he pulls you back down.

You can’t meet his thrusts, but you try and buck your hips in time with him, erratic at first. Megatron’s servos are locked on you, guiding you when your movements skip or miss. All the pleasure centers in your frame are alight, charges sparking and fritzing along your circuitry. Another overload builds, a hot, deep bubbling in your core.

With each thrust of his spike, your valve squelches, the mesh slick and hot with transfluid. More drips down your legs, your aft, onto the berth, leaving everything tacky. Megatron hits a particularly sensitive node deep inside you, one you didn’t even know was there, and you keen. Coolant tears prick at your vision again, escaping the corners and rolling off your faceplates.

“How badly do you want it?” Megatron seethes, and you could mistake his lust for anger. He seizes your neck cables, dangerous talons threatening Energon lines, as he demands, “How badly do you want me?”

“Desperately.” You wheeze, optics whiting out as Megatron squeezes your neck cables just so as he gives you a series of particularly rough thrusts. Your peds tighten on his back, urging him deeper. Your Master vents, harsh and hot, his engine rumbling loud in his chassis.

“You will look...” Megatron chokes on a groan,”... Excellent with a trine at your hip.”

That makes you whine, Seeker coding squealing and preening at the thought. A trine. Three little sparklings just like their carrier. You’d delight in carrying them in your gestation chamber, wanting to see yourself change and swell to accommodate them.

“I want... I want,” Your voice cuts out, broken by a sob, and you can only manage a tight, “I want that!”

“Good.” Megatron pistons his hips like a jackhammer, his rhythm not breaking once. Powerful thrusts meet the wet heat of your core, the tops of his thigh armor clanking loudly against your legs. The overload warnings start appearing once again. Megatron hisses when your valve tightens around his length, and it prompts him to pick up the pace.

“You are so pretty.” He growls, leaning in to recapture your dermas with his. As he kisses, he doubles his speed and the strength behind it. You moan and sob into his mouth, servos gripping him by the back of the helm. His glossa battles with yours, his sharp denta nicking you more than once. Then he switches to kissing you deeply, soulfully, like he’s found salvation in your dermas.

It’s as you’re so viscerally connected to Megatron that the heat in your core reaches a boiling point, the slow-building electricity coming to its peak. Your valve walls spasm, the giving mesh convulsing in the telltale sign of your overload on the horizon.

Somehow accomplishing it, Megatron kisses you deeper, his faceplates flush and hot against yours. A particularly hard grind of his spike on the sensitive nodes of your valve has you gasping into the silver mech’s mouth. Your optics squeeze shut, you feel like your core is about to explode with heat—

Your second overload hits, just as spectacular and wonderful as the first. Electrified charges bounce between the mesh of your valve and Megatron’s throbbing spike, transfluid soaking him and yourself once again. It’s only after your audials tingle that you realize you’ve screamed loudly enough to reset them. Your systems crash, processors overheated and cooling fans hitching and trembling. With a hiss and a long grunt, Megatron follows you over the edge as well.

Warmth blooms in your core, pleasure nodes and receptors picking up the hot liquid feel of Megatron’s transfluid deep inside you. It comes out in spurts, and he rides his overload by continuing to push into you. As your optics come back online, you catch him hunching over you, ceasing his thrusts in favor of pressing as close as he can, spike still weeping transfluid and coating your inside walls.

Megatron hisses and groans, his frame shivering just once as he finishes, lazily bucking his hips thrice to empty himself completely. He doesn’t disengage his spike, leaving it to soften in your overworked valve. You can’t feel your peds, not after the overload you just experienced, and your entire frame shudders when he nips at your neck cables once again.

For a while, he hovers above you, his EM field embracing your frame. Softly, your servos caress his upper back struts, the tips of your digits dancing along his seams. His servos finally release your hips, revealing he’s left shallow dents in your armor. No matter, you’d wear them proudly.

“Do you have fiber cloths in your refresher?” Megatron asks, breaking the comfortable silence, his vocal processor crackling only slightly. A twitch of the helm is the best “Yes” you can offer, and brutally Megatron parts from you, drawing a soft whimper as his spike and warmth leave you. The thought of sliding your interface panel back on crosses your mind, but your anterior node and valve are still throbbing so tenderly you can’t will yourself to do it.

You hadn’t realized you closed your optics until Megatron’s approaching pedsteps makes you open them again. He stands before your sprawled, ruined frame, a sheer fiber cloth in his servo, reaching to clean you. Silently, he wipes up the glowing transfluid that’s stained your berth, then moves to clean what’s left on your body.

For a long few moments, the sounds of your cooling fans cycling down, wings softly scraping on your berth, and Megatron’s movements fill your habsuite. At some point, you hear the distinct click of Megatron’s interface panel closing and you tilt your helm up to see him putting his spike away. Also distinctly, the slight burn of soreness as Megatron wipes your exposed valve of excess transfluid.

You’d need to wash regardless, but it’s the thought that counts.

“That was...” And you have no words. Your voice sounds distant and far away, like you’re listening to yourself whisper from miles away. Megatron hums to fill your silence, then you hear the muffled sound of the cloth being discarded somewhere in your room.

“May I join you for the night?” Your Lord’s question is far more polite than it needs to be, considering the circumstances, but it’s

“Of course.” Your answer is quick and sure, marked by the tremendous effort you put in to roll onto your side, even though you still can’t quite feel your legs. You watch Megatron around your berth and sit at your side. He stretches, silver armor plates shifting and whirring back into place, the length of his back struts revealing his hidden Energon lines.

Then he swings his peds up and lays beside you like it’s the most normal action he’s ever done. Though you do have to scoot over until your wings stick out past the edge.

“I would like for this to be a repeated venture,” Megatron teases after he settles himself, “And if you will accept, for this to be continued past a successful newspark creation.”

He glances at you out the corner of his optic, its glow dimmed. You smile.

He’s never been one for grand romantic gestures, never one to speak about softer, kinder things like “love” or “sparkbonding”. It’s unbecoming of him, the Leader of the Decepticons, former gladiator of Kaon, dark Lord and powerful Master. You don’t know if he’d ever pose the actual question, or if it will remain as nebulous, vague riddles and coded phrases for you to decipher and analyze. It isn’t in Lord Megatron’s making to be tender— At least not in the explicit regards.

“I want nothing less for the sire of my offspring.” You reply, your frame curling around the curve of his chassis, servo finding the same spot it always had: Right above his insignia, above his spark. His engine rumbles evenly, the steady drumming could bring you to power down, though you’re kept awake by the pleasant ache between your legs, the chill of the Nemesis, and the pride in bearing your Lord an heir.

~ * ~ * ~

epilogue

Your berth is too small, much too small, for two Cybertronians attempting to recharge upon it. Megatron keeps an arm wrapped under and around you to prevent you from falling off, your frame halfway atop his. One of your servos rests under your helm, the other lazily traces invisible shapes on his broad chassis. Both of your EM fields mingle, the waves pulsing to each other in rhythm.

Earthen hours have passed since your coupling, and though you’re tired, you find yourself unable to slip into recharge.

“My Lord?” You catch his attention, Megatron optics flickering back as he pulls himself from the onset of recharge. Part of you regrets keeping him awake— Primus only knows how many sleepless nights your leader subjects himself to— and the other part of you quietly marvels at how he was nearly dozing in your arms. What show of trust is as great as that?

“If I am to carry, this means the Decepticon cause loses one of its strongest warriors—” You sigh happily as the warlord shifts so that his servo rubs your wings, tenderly caressing sensitive transformation seams and Energon lines. What more you wanted to say dies on your glossa, too caught up in the tender display of affection your Lord gives you.

“A temporary hindrance.” Megatron rumbles, shuttering his optics once again and stating, “The Decepticons will prevail.”

It falls quiet, fully so for a handful of clicks until you pipe up again.

“... And, we will need protoforms. And transitionary metals and alloys. And start the process of distilling Energon into low-grade, sparkling-safe—”

Megatron silences you with a deep kiss, one that has you purring in delight and cupping his faceplates. He lingers on your dermas for a few beats, his EM field heavy and warm on yours, lulling you closer to recharge. Megatron parts, settling down on his back struts, his frame creaking and hissing air as he relaxes. Then he sighs:

“We will discuss technicalities in the morning.”

#transformers #transformers prime #tfp #tfp megatron #megatron #megatron x reader #megatron x you #megatron x femme #megatron x cybertronian reader #cybertronian reader #femme reader

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justagalwhowrites · 7 months

Note

au Joel eating Doc out as she vents about her day at the hospital watching her slowly forget about it

👁️🫦👁️

OMG Hi Bestie!

This ask was DELICIOUS OMFG and soooo Joel coded. Just so so so so so Lavender AU!Joel coded. I love him so much and I just know he's done exactly this for Doc so many times over the years. Girl works a stressful job, she needs some release, after all.

Anyway, I hope this fits what you're looking for! Thank you so much for reading and for asking for this! Love you!!

Long Day

Joel takes care of you after a hard day at the hospital. A one shot set in the universe of the Lavender No-Outbreak AU.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Lavender AU Female Reader

Warnings: SMUTTTTTT. Oral sex (F receiving), unprotected P in V sex. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ only.

Length: 2.9k

Remind me again why I wanted to be chief of pediatric surgery?

Joel wasn’t surprised to get your text when he took a minute to check his phone while on a job site. You’d been up late the night before, preparing for a presentation to the hospital board to get more funding for your department. Some kind of new equipment that you desperately wanted and gushed about at every opportunity that Joel could not understand at fuck all. The curse of falling for a woman so much smarter than him, he supposed.

Because you’re nothing if not a high achiever, he texted back. What’s going on, Baby?

I hate the bureaucracy of this, you replied. One of my favorite kids came in today, her mom is beside herself, and am I with them? No, I’m walking some asshole through the surgical wing of the peds floor.

“Hey Miller!” One of the site managers called to him. “Got a question for you!”

“One sec!” Joel yelled back before he texted you back again.

Think you can make it home at a reasonable time or are they going to chain you to the desk?

Only thing that would keep me here is the inside of an OR, you wrote back. They’d better deal.

Joel smiled a little at that. Back in your residency years, he’d have resigned himself to not seeing you on days like today. He’d take care of Evie and worry that you weren’t eating enough or pushing yourself too hard or crying in the car from stress before coming inside so you didn’t freak out him or your daughter.

He’d caught you doing that once, the car parked on the street as he walked back from loaning a tool to a neighbor down the road. He was so excited to see you that it took him a moment to realize you were crying, your forehead against the steering wheel, your whole body shaking with it.

He opened the door, making you jump and start trying to dry your your eyes before he could notice.

“Hey now,” he said gently, leaning into the car with his arm propped over the door. “What’s goin’ on, Baby?”

“Nothing,” you sniffed. “Just a really really awful day, I’ll be fine, it’s fine, I’m just not used to it yet…”

Joel frowned.

“Used to what?”

“All of it,” your voice was shaky. “Just all the stress and the exhaustion and I keep getting more attached to patients than I should. I had a kid today who was in a car accident and he looked fine so I was joking with him when doing the initial exam trying to keep him calm and the next thing I know he’s crashing and we couldn’t get him back and it just really fucking sucks sometimes, Joel. I don’t know if I’m strong enough to do this…”

“Hey,” he gently reached out and cupped your face, his thumb tracing your cheekbone. “You’re the strongest person I know. You can do this. I’m sure of it, never been more sure of anything in my life. Except maybe loving you but that’s an extremely high bar.”

You laughed a wet little laugh and sighed.

“Do you still want to do this?” He asked, frowning slightly. “Because you don’t have to, Baby. Don’t care that you went to med school, you don’t have to be a doctor if it doesn’t make you happy.”

“No, I want it,” you nodded once, more to yourself than anything else. “If I’m strong enough, I want it.”

He took you inside and sent you to go shower, picking up your scrubs off the bathroom floor and putting them in the washer. He set out your favorite swimsuit and made you a frozen margarita before moving the boom box to by the pool and putting on your favorite Beatles album. He grabbed the book from your bedside table and set it next to the margarita just as you came outside, already looking more like yourself.

“Oh Babe, you didn’t have to do all this,” your hand went to your heart and, for a second, Joel was afraid you’d start crying again.

“I know,” he said. “But I wanna take care of my girl. Feeling anything for dinner? I can order Chinese or pizza or make you something?”

“Can I get Mongolian Beef?” You asked, taking a sip of the margarita. “With an obscene amount of egg rolls?”

Joel smiled a little.

“Of course Baby,” he said.

Joel took care of Evie so you had space to relax but you pulled her onto your lap and held her close while you ate, your nose buried in her hair while she told you everything about her day.

When he took you to bed, he had every intention of keeping his hands to himself. But you had a different idea. You kissed his shoulder, his neck, over his jaw.

“Baby,” he groaned. “Don’t push yourself…”

“I’m not,” you whispered, your breath warm against his skin. “Want you, want to feel you…”

He kissed you, gently at first, but your fingers knotted in his hair, pulling his mouth tightly to your own. Your hips ground against his, your breasts flush against his chest. He clutched onto you and moaned into your lips.

“Make me forget it all,” you said softly. “Please, Joel. Just for a bit.”

He moved you below him and took you slowly but firmly, like he was fucking every ounce of love he had for you, for the family you’d made together, into you until that was all that was left. There were no insane hours, no one you couldn’t save, no life or death stress. There was just you and him and how much he loved you.

The next day, he called in sick and kept Evie home from school. The three of you snuggled in bed until you needed to go to the hospital that evening.

“Thank you,” you said as you kissed him next to your car, the same place he’d found you crying the day before. “I couldn’t do this without you.”

“I’m so proud of you Baby,” he held your face in his hands. “My girl the doctor.”

After that, Joel always knew exactly what you needed after a rough day at the hospital.

He texted Ellie to see if she could go to a friend’s place for a while after school - something she was thrilled about - and he stopped by your favorite BBQ place on the way home to pick up all your usuals. He opened a bottle of your favorite French wine and had a plate ready and waiting for you when you walked in the door.

“Joel,” you smiled, coming over and dropping your forehead to his chest. He smiled a little and wrapped his arms around you, kissing the top of your head. “Have I told you lately that I love you?”

“Yes,” he said. He felt you laugh against him. “But don’t mind hearin’ it again.”

You vented a little over dinner and the two of you polished off one bottle of wine before you moved to the living room. Joel opened a second and put on your favorite movie and held you on the couch, his hand tracing the contours of your body as he held you close.

“Ugh, you guys are gross,” Ellie said when you didn’t bother to separate from him at all when she came in the front door.

“Love you too, Gremlin!” You called after her as she went to her room. Joel laughed.

“Why do we keep endin’ up with teenaged girls?” He asked. “That’s the hardest age but I swear we’ve had a teenaged girl in this house for 20 fuckin’ years.”

“Gluttons for punishment,” you said, a smile on your voice.

“Doin’ any better?” He asked, fingers trailing through your hair against your scalp.

You sighed.

“A bit but…” your voice trailed off. “I’m so sick of this part of my damn job. There’s only so much board member ass I can kiss before I want to throw up. I got into this to take care of kids not deal with bureaucrats, you know?”

“You are helping kids by dealing with the bureaucrats,” Joel kissed your temple and gave you a squeeze as the credits to the movie ended. “C’mon baby, let me take you to bed.”

He got up and, before you had a chance to follow, he scooped you up off the couch. You let out a little shriek, your arms flinging around his neck and he laughed a little as he carried you to bed.

“Isn’t your back getting too old for that?” You teased as he set you gently on the bed.

“More worried about my knees,” he smiled a little. “Good thing I’m married to a doctor. Damn good one at that.”

“Not so sure about that last part these days,” you sighed and he leaned over and kissed you, gently, your face delicately in his large hand. His fingers tangled in your hair and he lay you back in the middle of the bed until you were stretched out below him. He pulled his mouth ever so slightly from yours, making you whimper.

“What were you sayin’ Baby?” He asked, his nose brushing your own.

“Uh,” you closed your eyes for a second. “I… I’m not sure…”

He kissed you softly for a moment before pulling away again.

“Good.”

He kissed down your body, unbuttoning your shirt as he went, until he got to your pants. He recognized them, you called them your ass kicking pants. You wore them when you wanted the extra confidence, wanted to feel like you could take control of anything. Joel just loved the way they made your ass and thighs look. He took a moment to appreciate the view, pressing a kiss just above the waist of your pants, his eyes running up your body until they met yours.

“Tell me everything botherin’ that pretty head of yours,” he said before kissing your stomach again. Your fingers twisted in the duvet. “C’mon baby. I want to hear you.”

“I had to show around Anders, that one board member who really sucks,” you said, voice a little breathy. Joel opened your pants and hooked his fingers around the waistband of them and your panties. You whimpered.

“Why’s he suck again?” Joel asked, sitting up enough to start pulling your pants down. You raised your hips off the bed to help and he pulled the clothes over your hips.

“You know why,” you were fully panting now.

Joel did know why. That wasn’t the point.

“Remind me.”

He pulled your pants off completely and climbed between your legs, settling between your thighs. He pressed a kiss to your mound and you moaned at his touch.

“He’s all about profit,” you said, voice tense and needy. “He loves plastics because it’s a money driver, always wants them to get the newest technology, everyone else always gets the…”

You cut off with a quiet gasp as Joel pressed his tongue to your clit, licking the sensitive nub firmly. He smiled a little and kissed you there, sucking you into his mouth for a moment before licking up your seam back to your clit.

“Fuck, Joel…” you were panting below him now. His hands went to your thighs, holding them to his head.

“What else, Baby?” He asked, kissing your clit again. “Tell me every little thing making that beautiful brain of yours work overtime.”

“There’s… Um…” your head dropped back onto the bed. “There’s that clinical trial that’s starting in a few weeks…”

He slipped his tongue between your folds, the tip of him slipping into your tight hole, making you moan and your back start to arch. He pressed deeper.

“I lost… I lost a day of work on it today and…”

His nose brushed your clit and you turned your head to bury your mouth in the mattress as you fought to not cry out in pleasure. His tongue opened your tight little hole for him, stretching and reaching deep, parting your walls. You panted and your channel coated Joel’s tongue in more slick, the flavor of your passion smooth and musky and slightly sweet. You rocked your hips against him and he smiled against your mound, his tongue stretched so the tip of it brushed the soft place inside of you that he loved.

“Keep goin’, Baby,” he said, pulling his mouth from you when you’d been speechless a little too long. “Tell me all of it.”

You took a moment, gasping and panting for breath.

“I didn’t get to spend time with Kaylee and her mom, Cara, today,” you managed. “Cara gets worried and I know she trusts me…”

Your voice broke as Joel thrust his tongue and a finger inside your tight hole, pressing deep into you and finding the places that he knew made you fall apart below him. He ate at you, his nose buried in your seam, brushing up against your swollen clit, tongue working you, finger stretching you. You let out a strangled little cry as your channel grew tight around him and he moaned against your pussy, starting to rut his hips down against the mattress. But he didn’t want to distract you, this was about you forgetting, not about him. You ground your hips against his face, unable to stop yourself anymore.

He licked into you, nose working your clit, finger hooking into your inner wall until you came over him, Joel lapping up your wetness as it spilled onto his tongue and his lips.

“Joel!” You gasped, your whole body arched for a moment as you throbbed around him and then collapsed back onto the bed, the aftershocks of your orgasm still pulsing against his tongue.

He waited until your body was loose on the bed before he pulled his tongue and finger from you. He wiped his mouth on his arm and crawled up your body to where you lay, panting and pliant below him.

“What else is botherin’ my girl? He asked softly, his fingers in your hair.

“I… um…” you were breathless. “I don’t remember.”

“Good,” he said softly, leaning in slowly to kiss you gently.

He stripped off his clothes and put one of his hands against your pussy, tracing your dripping seam, while he worked his cock for a moment. He kissed you, took your hand and lined his thick cock up with your entrance and pressed into you slowly, until he was deep inside you.

“Joel,” you breathed, your eyes searching his.

“Baby,” he nuzzled your cheek, savoring the feeling of you below him and around him, how tight you were, how warm, how soft. “What do you need?”

“Just you,” you said softly.

He kissed you again and started to move inside you, slow but firm. He thrust deep inside you until the tip of him was pressing against the place inside you that made you start to tighten around him before pulling back slowly. His head caught on every ridge of muscle inside you and he savored that feeling, this part of you that felt like it belonged to him. When just his head was left in your tight, grasping sex, he thrust back in you hard, hard enough to force the air from your lungs.

“Fuck, Joel,” your hips pressed up into him as you started to tighten around him. “Joel, please…”

“Anything else on your mind, Baby?” He panted. You whimpered and shook your head quickly. “I want to be the only thing in this pretty head, want to be the only thing inside of any part of you.”

You arched into him, your fingers digging into the flesh of his back as your pussy got even tighter around him.

“That’s it Baby,” he managed, his own orgasm getting closer. “C’mon, come all over me. Come all over this cock, I’m so close Baby, want you to milk me dry, c’mon Baby…”

You buried your face in his shoulder and thrust your hips up against his as you came around him, your channel throbbing fiercely over him. He only lasted two more thrusts before he pressed himself deep and came in you, filling you with rope after rope of his spend.

Your orgasm outlasted his own, your body pulling every last drop of come from his own and he collapsed as you went limp below him. Joel rolled onto his back and pulled you with him, so you were loosely draped over his body, his cock still deep inside you. He ran his hands slowly over your back as the two of you came down from your shared high. After a moment, you pressed a kiss to his chest and he felt you smile against his skin.

“What?” He asked.

“Definitely doing better now,” you said, teasing a little. He smiled.

“Good,” he kissed the top of your head. “Gotta do whatever I can to take care of my girl the doctor.”

You laughed a little.

“You take such good care of me,” your fingers traced little paths over his chest. “Think I can do anything as long as I’ve got you, Joel.”

He smiled and rested a hand on the small of your back.

“I think so, too.”

#fanfic #kit answers #send asks #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #lavender #joel miller x oc #joel miller smut

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the-ace-with-spades · 11 months

Text

I have the urge to write a seven-season-long medical drama, so here is a concept for Top Gun Hospital AU with ER hate-to-love hangster AU that no one asked for.

as a warning: this is a bit incohesive and silly

All the aviators are doctors and all the WSOs are nurses. With the exception of Bradley (but there’s an explanation for it).

Mav — cardiothoracic surgeon; Ice — former neurosurgeon and Chief of Surgery, current Head of Patient and Medical Services (so, entirely admin). I imagine they have the same kind of relationship as House and Cuddy in this, including Ice keeping an entire legal team for Mav’s unconventional practice methods. They've met during med school and had been rivals up until they both finished general surgery residency. Slider is an OR nurse turned anesthesia nurse. Goose was an ER nurse and met Mav during his rotation as a med student and died after an incident in the ER during Mav’s residency (that was the moment he switched from emergency medicine to surgery).

Phoenix — emergency, but she managed the impossible (like Mav) and switched from obgyn residency after the first year (only chose obgyn in the first place because of her mom, a renowned obgyn in Oregon), she's still really passionate about the obgyn field but didn't enjoy the work enough to do it for the rest of her life; Javy — general surgery; Payback — emergency with sub-spec in pediatrics; Friz — respiratory medicine; Omaha — oncology; Yale — ortho surgery.

Bob — a former OBGYN nurse, left because of a toxic work environment, working in the ER six months now, Phoenix's favorite nurse now, duh; Fanboy — started in peds oncology, had to switch because it was too hard on him mentally and is now peds emergency; Halo — started as a palliative care nurse, switched to oncology after a few years; Harvard — OR nurse, switched from general team to ortho

Hangman is the new trauma surgeon starting in their ER. Born and raised on a ranch, was expected to take over the ranch but never wanted to. Thankfully, he had too perfect grades to not send him to college — his parents wanted him to be a vet, which obviously didn’t happen, so he could stay close to the family business. He moved to California for his MD. He has terrible bedside manners with patients and patients’ family, but is surprisingly decent with kids, has lost respect for nurses sometime during his first residency year, and had a terrible case of Ego hit him during his trauma surg fellowship.

Now, about Rooster:

Bradley got into a pre-med program, Mav (who had set up Bradley’s college fund) said he’s not going to pay for it since he doesn’t want Bradley to be a doctor (long hours, lack of work-life balance, burnout, high stress, etc. It was more complicated because Mav still has the Goose trauma). So they had the fallout, Bradley moved out and deferred college to find a way to pay for it and, wanting to gather hospital experience, started working as a CNA in Peds ICU at a children’s hospital which accidentally was having a new CNA intake at the time. He liked it, actually loved it, and started hesitating whether he should continue with pre-med and be like Mav or go for nursing, like his dad. Year after, he got an offer from the hospital that said hey, we’ll fund some of your BSN as long as you work for us while you study and then work for us for another four years after getting your license. So he became a nurse, got certified as peds nurse after working two years in PICU and after another three, switched to the Pediatric Rapid Response Team, where he stayed for another two years before getting a spot as a senior nurse in adult/peds ER in a different hospital.

His relation to Mav and Ice only came to light a few months after the hiring process, as Bradley didn’t even know they worked there when he applied and it’s still a hash-hash topic in the ER. He’s been in the ER for almost three years now and has become an unofficial second-in-command as one of the few with substantial experience.

I imagine he’s definitely one the best nurses you could have as a patient — he’s honest but in an empathetic way, he’s worked in the most demanding environments with the most complex patients (ICU and RRT), he’s skilled and experienced in most procedures. Because he is one of the few male nurses, he’s the one dealing with inappropriate patients, aggressive patients, patients that need restraint, frequent flyers, etc. and he genuinely doesn’t mind — he is the perfect mix of calm and firm that makes him very reliable in most difficult situations. He is absolutely most reassuring and guiding with new stuff, be it new nurses or med students that don’t know what’s happening, and he doesn’t judge. It does help, too, that he was partially raised by two very cocksure surgeons and therefore knows how to deal with doctors that turned a bit too arrogant.

Before I go to the hangster part of this shit, I want y’all to know it all started because I found this Rooster-coded scrubs:

I imagine that he buys most of his scrubs since the work-issued scrubs don’t fit well on men (most unisex ones are very much just female fit stamped with unisex label) and peds nurses can have lots of cute ones so the kids feel less nervous around them

Also, this is a warning that yes, Bradley is trans in this scenario, too, because I said so. It's relevant to a few scenes, I think?? and there's tw for transphobic OC

Now, a bunch of scenarios I can see for this AU:

On the first day at his new workplace, Jake makes a reputation for himself. He confuses Nat, in her hospital-issued scrubs and with her doctor tag clearly on display, for a nurse and literally talks over her in front of a patient. Same thing happens with Billy because he’s Filipino and there is a large number of Filipino nurses everywhere and he’s stereotyping. Then he makes another patient’s parents agitated. This is when he meets Bradley — he takes over to talk to the parents and calm them down before it can escalate, basically shushing Jake out of the room. Jake doesn’t clock he’s a nurse at first — he’s a big, very fit, very well-built, very handsome dude with a questionable mustache who looks comical in a pastel pink scrub top with a teddy bear pattern and a matching headband on his forehead, but also the sheer shock of how different to all the nurses he looks gives Jake a pause — so he doesn’t say anything even if it pisses him off a nurse just forced him out of the room.

It starts innocently with Bradley though — Bradley comes up and asks, “Jake, can you put the narcotics order into the system for Lily?” and Jake scoffs and corrects, “Doctor,” tapping his full tag with Dr. Jacob Seresin.

Bradley, as the nurse’s tag says, raises an eyebrow and says, “Doctor Jake, can you put the narcotics order for Lily?” Natasha, standing behind him, snorts. Jake doesn’t even have the time to tell him off because he’s already gone when his brain processes.

Natasha drops off a patient on him — a taxi driver who had a stroke while driving and had been in a car accident, that had been thrombolysed but might need emergency surgery because of a suspected GI bleed. He’s stable, so they're going to check if he can be admitted to neurosurg and wait for his turn there or if Jake will need to take over before that.

Bradley hands him a tablet the minute he walks into the room.

“What’s that?”

“Results,” he supplies before going back to setting up an oxygen cylinder at the bottom of the bed.

“I didn’t order that,” he notes. The blood and urine panels are what he would order with suspected operable GI bleed but he’s barely looked at the patient’s case before he walked in there.

“I did,” Bradley tells him as he switches the oxygen from the wall socket to the tank supply. “Faster this way.”

“No,” Jake says, blood boiling. “You do exactly what I tell you to do and only that.”

Natasha raises her eyebrows, high on her forehead. Bradley doesn’t hesitate — waves on Bob from behind the glass wall and they both grab each side of the bed.

“I supposed you want to put the CT order yourself then,” Bradley says as Bob takes the small back monitor and attaches it to the frame. He steps on the bed brake and rolls out the bed, straight into Jake and Nat, fast enough that he moves out of the way on instinct. “Better do it fast because it’s free now and I’m going.” *

“Did you see that? Who the heck does he think he is?” Jake asks Nat.

“Better put that CT scan order,” is all Natasha replies as she walks away.

It’s Reuben’s patient, an eleven years old boy with blunt trauma, and Jake makes a verbal order to Bradshaw, who is the boy’s nurse. “I understand but I think that—” and Jake goes, “If I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it.”

The whole room gets quiet and everyone looks to him — Reuben, Mickey, and the technician are wide-eyed.

Bradley just says, “Alright,” in a perfectly leveled voice and leaves the room.

Mickey is not making eye contact as he quips under his nose, on his way out of the room, “You do realize he basically runs this ER, right? You’re making your life a lot harder.”

Jake orders IV fluids for one of his patients which is also in Rooster’s section that day and he bleeps the order info to Rooster. Fifteen minutes later he sees that it hasn’t been filled and is like, hah, I knew there is a reason I hate that guy. Finds him when he passes Jake in the corridor and is like, “I want you to start the IV for room 7. Now,” and Rooster just tells him, “No, do it yourself or find someone else.”

They have a little back and forth as Jake follows him down the corridor which ends with another, “No.”

There’s still no charge nurse in the ER (she’s on medical leave that will most likely end with her leaving employment, from what Jake gathers) so he makes a datix and the ER nurse manager (Warlock) following up is apprehensive because obviously, he knows Bradley, and hears about what actually happened — Bradley was getting an igel for a toddler from the peds side and deemed it more important than starting a bag of saline to bust someone's blood pressure.

Jake feels like an idiot.

Jake and Reuben are charting next to each other and Reuben gets bleeped his patient’s lab results. Jake, who is also waiting for lab results, complains about how he sent a pod to the lab before Reuben. Reuben just gives him a look and says, “Yeah, that’s because I asked Bradley to put my request in.”

And Jake is like, “What does he have to do with anything?”

Reuben looks at him like he’s dumb and says, “He has more sway with the lab,” and walks away with his tablet.

Javy is doing a consult for Nat and stops to chat to Jake (they know each other from residency days) and Bradley comes by and says, “Maggie’s becoming hypotensive again,” and Javy observes as Jake looks at the nurse that came, gives him a very long, very detailed look and licks his lips.

He manages to think Oh before Jake asks, “Maggie?”

The nurse looks seconds from rolling his eyes. “Mrs. Lawrence? Room 5?”

“That's Margaret.”

“She prefers Maggie.”

And it goes on, with Jake standing there rigid, puffing up his chest and cocking his hip out. “Did you start the fluids?”

“Finshed already.”

“Start another bag.”

The nurse looks unimpressed and instead of confirming says, slowly, like he’s talking to a child, “Her fluid balance is positive. She’s usually on pressors.” Jake’s face gets red and he goes, “Then put an order for her.”

It’s kind of funny to observe and to be fair, the nurse does give Jake a minute to go over what he said, leaning his elbow on the counter, eyebrows raised, before he points out, in that damn slow, unimpressed tone, “I can't put orders for things like pressors."

He hands Jake the closest tablet and starts walking away.

Jake calls after him. "What, you're not even going to draft it for me?"

He doesn't even turn around and Javy is silently shaking from the laughter he's holding in, "I thought I wasn't allowed to do that, doctor."

Mav comes down to the ER to talk to Rooster on a slower day — about how they’re about to sponsor a new CRNA for the cardiothoracic surg unit and maybe he could put a good word for their development team for Bradley and yada yada.

It happens like that: Mav comes down, Bradley is charting next to the monitors station, Jake is going over a scan on the opposite side when The Dr. Mitchell himself comes down and stops next to Bradley. He gives Bradley and his pink Paw Patrol scrubs a look and clears his throat a couple of times before Bradley raises his gaze toward him, turning away a second later and ignoring him again.

Jake is freaking out — this is The Dr. Mitchell and one of the reasons Jake wanted to work in this exact hospital, along with the rumored to-be-announced cardiothoracic surg fellowship under Dr. Mitchell he had his eyes on. He’s been thinking about how to make contact with Dr. Mitchell since he started in the ER and here he is, telling unresponsive Bradshaw, “I heard you’re looking to go back for your Master’s in the near future.” Bradshaw doesn’t say anything and Dr. Mitchell adds, “We have a CRNA development spot for—” and Bradley tells him, not turning away from the screen, “I’m not an OR nurse,” and then taps his card on the computer’s reader to log out and walks away.

Dr. Mitchell is a fucking legend, a VIP of this hospital, so Jake just stands there, contemplating how the heck Bradshaw could do that and hears him mumbling under his breath, “Really slick, Mav,” and jumps on the opportunity to say, “I’ll be talking to his supervisor about this, his attitude is unacceptable, Dr. Mitchell.”

And Dr. Mitchell turns to him, raises an eyebrow and asks, “Excuse me?”

“The nurse you were talking to. He might be senior in here but his attitude’s been horrible and I’ll personally step in. This won’t happen again.”

Dr. Mitchell gives him a look before slowly saying, “I suggest you mind your own business, Dr. Seresin,” and walks away.

Nat is silently laughing a few feet away and Jake asks her what’s so funny. His heart dead-ass stops when she says, “You do know Dr. Mitchell is Bradley’s dad, right? They might not be on the best of terms but that’s still his son.” And Jake has the urge to bang his head on the keyboard in front of him.

TW for transphobia.

There’s a new nurse practitioner to be (graduated, about to get her cert) that's rumored to be a candidate for the charge nurse position. Izzy. She’s quite young for that, younger than Bradley for sure, must have barely worked in the clinical area before going for her Master’s. Jake doesn’t know if it’s on purpose but the nurse manager and Bradley keep on putting her in his section.

She’s—well, she’s a bit too in his face. She agrees with everything Jake says and doesn’t roll his eyes at him, which is boring, and she’s, for an NP, not that knowledgeable. She doesn’t argue with him, which is a change, and Jake starts to hate it after about five hours. Her voice is saccharine sweet, she keeps on standing a bit too close to him at all times, and she’s decent with patients, but she keeps on asking him about the smallest of things.

Jake’s section is less busy, usually, since he deals primarily with trauma in the ER, but she never bounces off to help others when she is free, like Bradley did. She’s clinging to his section, a little bit, and he doesn’t get why. It’s not like he is any nicer to her than to Bradley or any other nurse.

She is busy taking bloods and Bradley finds him when he has a second alone, finally, and enlightens him about why.

“If you don’t believe me, you can just ask any other nurse. Everyone noticed.”

“If you really think that then why do you keep putting her in my sections?”

“I don’t. She’s senior as an NP, she’s taken over allocation from me now.”

Jake’s mind only focuses on one detail. “You were allocating yourself to my sections?”

“Only because no one wants to work with you and because I’m actually certified in trauma.” That makes sense. It’s not like Bradley would work with him voluntarily. “Look, all I’m saying, you watch out — you fool around with her and then reject her and she’s going to HR. I know the type.”

“The type?”

“You know, the girl that thought she’ll become a nurse, snag a rich doctor and never work again? Well, it’s not always women, there are guys who do that too, but in this case, she’s very much the type.”

“And you think she’s trying to—snag me?”

“She’s certainly not going after the residents that are getting paid twelve bucks an hour or Reuben who is married,” he points out. Which, again, fair, even if he didn’t know Reuben is married prior to this strange conversation.

Jake stares at him, processing, until he blurts out, “I’m gay.”

“Then you’ve got nothing to worry about,” Bradley says after a second, eyes barely noticeably a bit wider, before he walks away.

“Was he bothering you, doctor?”

She calls him doctor, always, and it honestly makes him grit his teeth. Now even more. He’s got a bad feeling about it.

It gets confirmed later when Jake is taking care of a six-year-old girl who had fallen down the stairs. She’s dehydrated and Izzy’s just tried to put a cannula on her three times before Jake told her to grab the bedside ultrasound and not make the girl cry even more.

Bradley passes by the room and Jake’s learned that he can’t leave a distressed child alone, so he comes in and gets the parents and the girl relaxed. He’s about to go in and tell him to leave it alone until Izzy brings the ultrasound when Nat grabs him by the arm and tells him, “He was in a Rapid Response Team, I’m pretty sure he can put a cannula in blind. Just let him do it.”

And he does let him. Watches, expecting the girl to burst into tears at any moment but she never does. Bradley’s literally been in the room for less than ten minutes and it’s all back to calmness.

Izzy comes back with the ultrasound. It should not have taken her so long to grab it. “What is he doing there? That's my patient.”

"He said he can put the IV line without the ultrasound.” Well, Nat said so. Jake can’t believe he’s saying but, “He’s a peds nurse, he’ll be fine.”

“I’m sure the girl's parents wouldn’t want him anywhere near her.”

This sets alarm bells in Jake’s head. “What do you mean?”

"People like him shouldn't be around kids," she says, to his horror. She leans in, way closer than needed, and conspiringly whispers, "Dr. Seresin, haven't you known that he is, you know, a she in disguise?"

He’s dumbstruck. "I'm sorry?"

"He's actually a woman, just pretending to be a man because he's mentally—You're the doctor, I'm sure you know better than I how the brains of people like them work. He shouldn't be around that girl, is what I'm saying. I certainly wouldn't like him around my child, if I had one."

Jake didn’t know this about Bradley but he understands what she means, even with how awful she is about it. This, however, should not be a piece of information thrown around in public if Bradley didn't wish to disclose it, and certainly not in such a manner. "And how do you know that, exactly?"

"Nurses share a locker room, it's not hard to notice how she, you know, mutilated herself."

Jake doesn’t say anything out loud but mentally he is preparing datix report in his head. He catches the ER’s nurse manager before he goes home, too, because that’s some shit he doesn’t stand for. He might be an asshole but he’s not a bigot.

Next time he comes to work, Bradley is back in his section and Izzy is no longer employed.

“Thanks,” Bradley says, when they’re at the station, next to each other, in a relatively slow moment. “If I went on my own, we’d have a weeks-long investigation that would probably end with her or me moving to a different unit.”

“She said this shit to your face?”

“Kept calling me she in front of patients,” Bradley admits after a moment. “I think most of them thought they misheard but—I knew.”

“Well, good riddance then.”

Bradley snorts, but he’s looking down at the tablet in his hands, smiling, and wow, the apples of his cheeks are so round and his eyes so bright and Jake can't breathe for a second.

---

(there might be a second part coming because I meant seven-season-long medical drama literally-- including Jake realizing he's an idiot, Mavdad drama, Jake having his hands inside Bradley (in the literal, surgical sense) and jealousy that could rival the McDreamy/Dr. Grey drama)

#this is unrealistic b/c its a med soap drama-like #not the actual chaos of er-like #as in med nonsense to be precise #also I don't know how american ers work #ive talked to a trauma surgeon twice in my life so sorry #i’ve mostly written it while trying to stay awake in the break room at 2am or to not fall asleep on the bus home #still having cluster headaches btw we're just too short-staffed to not go to work even if I have to sit out for an hour in the break room #bradley rooster bradshaw #jake hangman seresin #hangster #icemav mention #tgm #tgm au #trans bradley rooster bradshaw #<< im going to fill that tag even if it takes me years #op #charlie writes #hangster hospital au

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westernbitch · 1 year

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Owen Hunt FanFic

First time writing something different. Wondering if I should write more..... please comment if you want more!

Owen Hunt comforting reader after she finds out her shitty bf cheated on her. Reader is Derek's little sister. I hope y'all like it!

------------------READ MORE

I wake up to the sound of shuffling around my room, I shoot up with a scream and find Karev crawling into the window of my room. I roll over with a groan, “Y/N, if you didn’t let me in, I told you I would find a way in!”

“Y/N! Are you okay,” Derek runs in with a baseball bat in one hand, a phone in the other, and he is breathing hard. “I will kill you-,” Meredith screams with a spatula in her hand, “shit Karev what are you doing?”

I cover myself with the warm comforter, hoping if I hide under it enough, the whole world will be blocked out. Just my luck, I hear Owen and Sloan follow behind Karev, “sweetheart, I know you are upset, but you’re better than him and he shouldn’t have slept with that little hoe of a resident!”

“Jake slept with a freaking res-” anger booms through the room as Derek talks. “I swear to god I am gonna kill him,” Sloan nods and agrees with Derek.

“For the love of God, get the hell out of the room! Please-” I try to get everyone out by being grumpy, something hard for me to pull off, but it sometimes works. No one budges, everyone just stands around.

“Can I get a minute with Y/N alone,” Owen says, apparently everyone follows because I hear footsteps exit the room.

“Is this why you won’t laugh at any of my jokes?” Owen whispers as he lays down next to me and pulls down the covers to see my face. “Y/N, please,” he pulls me to his chest, which breaks down every border I have put up, sobs start coming out of me freely.

“I am so fucking stupid, I fucking let him do that. Everyone knows I am the dumbass that let her boyfriend cheat on her with some newbie dumbass from peds.” His arms pull me tighter into his chest and our bodies melt together. “He has been an asshole for months and I just let him be because I thought he loved me. He acts like we aren’t even in a relationship and now I know why. I am so fucking stupid”

“Please don’t say that, you’ll make me cry,” this makes me stop crying and look up into his deep blue eyes. They crinkled a bit as he smiled at me, I can’t help but giggle. His thumb wipes away a stray tear, “ahh there’s my girl,” his deep voice grumbles in his chest.

“Now, what is one thing that we could do right now that would make you feel better? Something that will make you forget about that fucker who was a complete asshole to you all the time.”

His question is a deep question, part of me wants to go egg his house or slash his tires on his brand new sports car. I know if I said that, Owen and everyone down stairs would hop on that chance as I said I wanted to do it.His hands are rubbing my back, rubbing aimlessly and drawing random shapes, making it hard to focus.�� “Scissors”

“Scissors? Are we going to cut all of his shit up?” His eyes light up as he laughs at the idea of cutting his stuff up.

I slide from his arms and walk to the dresser, grabbing the hair cutting scissors from the top drawer. I quickly grab one side of my long dirty blond hair and chop it off, then I do it to the other side. My eyes glance down at what I just did, the thrill that is running through me is intense. When I look in the mirror I see I actually gave myself a cute ass bob, my curls falling right around my shoulders.

Owen walks up behind me and runs his fingers through my hair, “fuck.” I give him a questioning look in the mirror, “you look fucking gorgeous.”

I feel butterflies in my stomach and my face turns a light shade of pink, “he fucking loved my hair long. He said if I cut it he would break up with me.”

“What a dick,” his eyes darken with the words I just said, “Long hair, short hair, bald, I don’t give a fuck, I would date you.”

“Owen, you don’t hav-”

“No, Y/N, I have been nice and respected him by being kind enough not to flirt with you. Now that douche is out of the picture and I am going to remind you every fucking second of my life how fucking beautiful you are.”

#greys anatomy #owen hunt #owen hunt x reader #comforting reader #greysedit

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rannnem · 4 months

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dropping my utdr headcanon/theory right here right now

so we can all agree that the red soul isn't supposed to represent determination, right? its soul trait has not been stated. well, my proposal is that the red soul is the Holy soul trait.

my first piece of evidence: in undertale, the legend of deltarune is that an angel will descend from the surface and the underground will go empty. this is self explanatory, really; angels are holy. frisk and chara are holy.

secondly, in deltarune there are a bunch of links to the word holy. ch1 has a song called THE HOLY; from what we've learned about elemental pairs there is a holy element; and the monsters have a religion and a church which a future chapter may take place in. oh and toriel says hell /j

three: it's not a normal soul trait. we can infer that the six other souls are more common, and we've seen that the players soul can be turned those colours (except for orange and cyan, which are still battle mechanics). this would explain why "holy" doesn't fit the pattern of human souls representing personality traits. the only time we see red magic in undertale is frisk and charas soul as well as asgores trident. asgore is the king of monsters, and this may be a stretch but monarchs are considered to be religious figures because of divine right.

fourth, in deltarune, the soul is a connection between the player and gaster and chara, who all exist outside the game. holy beings exist outside of this world, and 'play god', as the player does in undertale and gaster and chara as well in deltarune.

finally: the pope has a copy of undertale. this isn't a piece of evidence I just think it's funny that holiness is connected so deeply to undertale that it extends to reality

so yeah I've had this headcanon in the back of my head for months, but never had the time to articulate it. that's my two cents on the red soul goodbye

ok this is an edit because I found more references to the red soul after a few replays of deltarune (I don't like reblogs because it means less people will see the additions and more will see the OG post):

• king literally calls the fountains "holy fountains" and we already know that the fountains and the soul are linked

• I don't know how I forgot to mention this but either kris or noelle is referred to as an angel by spamton (he didn't specify who he was talking to)

• the motif of apples

• the motif of the number 7

• spamton continually references heaven, God, and angels. he's implied to be connected to gaster who I've stated is comparable to a divine entity

• kris owning red horns similarly to a demon; they have been shown to reject the possibly holy soul like how demons are unholy

• monarchs being so important to both undertale and deltarunes stories, since the main final bosses in neutral and pacifist are all royalty. this ties into what I said about Asgore being somewhat holy because of divine right

• you only get this tidbit from one optional line of dialogue from father alvin but the lightners in hometown literally worship an angel??? like that's so important how did I miss that

• God is literally a character in undertale (the annoying dog) who resides in a room that you can only enter through perfection of the end credits. the credits are purgatory and if you're good then you can go to heaven where God resides. he also shows up in deltarune ch1 where he's programming the next chapter in the computer room, but I can't really find a religious parallel there

• king and queen worship(ped) the roaring knight, which is a parallel to worshipping fake idols

ok that's all I can remember off the top of my head but every minute my theory grows stronger

#undertale #deltarune #deltarune theory #utdr #text post #theory #undertale theory

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twogyuu · 11 months

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Rose-Tinted Glasses || Profiles

Pairing: Seokmin x fem!reader

Featuring: Seungcheol, Mingyu, Jun, Vernon, and Jeonghan (and sometimes Wonwoo)

Synopsis: Lee Seokmin and Y/N don't even make sense as friends, yet Seokmin wants something more - do you? (Or are you really just oblivious to it all?)

Seokmin likes to think you do, but everyone else thinks he just sees the world that surrounds you through rose-tinted glasses. (He doesn't.)

Alternatively, in which Lee Seokmin tries to forget about you and find love through blind dates.

Genre: fluff, crack, some angst, smau, acquaintances-2-lovers, one-sided pining, some jealousy (but no love triangle - promise! just misunderstanding lmao), cold!reader, resident doctor!reader, happy!seokmin, elementary school teacher!seokmin

Warnings: Pictures of food/alcohol, Vernon is a peds intern dkfjldskfjs, implied that OC's parents are deceased and raised her little brother on her own :')

WC: ~500

A/N: A smaller crew compared to Two Minus One, but I hope you still enjoy! I self-inserted so hard, but not as reader iykyk 😂💀 But also wonwoo hehehehe 😈😚 bonus, if you caught the collision of au's 😘

masterlist || next

Seokmin: A well-seasoned fourth grade teacher and hopeless romantic searching for, well, love. He strives to stay optimistic and see the best in everyone and everything. For that reason, he arguably has the best fourth grade class, despite Jeremy who continuously sticks gum he's not supposed to chew under his desks in the back row.

Jun: The fellow art teacher who isn’t actually really good at art 💀 He shares his dinner leftovers with Seokmin during lunch when the latter rants about terrible dates and heartbreaks though!

Jeonghan: Seokmin’s best friend, wingman, hypeman – you name it, he’s there and ready (kind of). When he’s off-duty, he’s a faux stay-at-home DILF to his four-year-old daughter, Nina.

. . . .

Y/N: Third-year pediatric resident, notorious for her cold-hearted and blunt personality. People wonder why she was hired in the first place, but hey? The important thing is that she makes her patients and their parents feel better. In truth, she's just a misunderstood and burnt out introvert with lots of responsibilities weighing on her shoulders.

Hyunwoo: Y/N’s kid teenage brother, who’s simply trying to live his best life in his third year of high school and make sure his sister doesn’t die alone (or with a house full of cats).

Mingyu: Middle school biology teacher, Y/N's best friend, and a mutual friend to Seokmin. All the prepubescent teens have a crush on tall, tan, and gorgeous for obvious reasons (he’s trying to keep a distance from this image). Y/N’s voice of reason when she’s being irrational.

Seungcheol: Former P.E. teacher turned PM&R resident and Y/N’s neighbor. He’s been around a long time and helped out her and her younger brother – he’s practically family! His dog, Kkuma, is his whole world 💞

Vernon: Y/N's underclassmen and mentee and one of the hospital’s new pediatric interns. He is so incredibly laid back, it’s mildly concerning. If you pay close enough attention though . . . there is someone who pays a little extra attention to 👀

Lia: One of the hospital’s new emergency medicine interns who is overly anxious, it’s mildly concerning. She likes Vernon and everyone seems to be aware except for him. Who needs ‘Grey’s Anatomy’ when you have them?

Not pictured, but will make an appearance every now and then:

Jeon Wonwoo: The eight grade algebra teacher who Seokmin befriended when he spent a year trying teaching seventh grade social studies. Hangs out with the others occasionally, but mostly enjoys the drama from a distance. He has enough matters of love on his hands anyhow . . . 🤫

#seokmin x reader #dk x reader #seokmin fluff #seokmin angst #seokmin scenarios #seokmin sm au #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #seventeen scenarios #seventeen smau #seventeen sm au

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haee-elia · 1 year

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1x04 - plain sight

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader (reader is non-bau agent)

summary: in which spencer reid gets some advice to ask out his best friend as a gift on his birthday

word count: 3684 (HOW DO THESE JUST KEEP GETTING LONGER)

warnings: mentions of tommy killer (he r*ped and killed) although no mention directly of his crimes. no gore or descriptive language

a/n: wow! i’ve written so much in these past few weeks, wowee! i’ve planned the next few episodes and i’m really excited to get started on a few of them. i am currently rewatching criminal minds and planning as i watch each episode again (this is my third time going through the entire series)

i just wanna say, thanks for so much of the support whether you’re a lurker, you’ve liked, reblogged, or commented. i very much appreciate just overall any love on my writing!

here’s the masterlist of the rest of the one shots

and here’s the premise of what i’m doing

You had a very large smile on your face as you stood behind Spencer, standing next to Elle, JJ, and Morgan singing the BAU’s resident genius a very, very happy birthday.

Although you weren’t part of the BAU team, you were extremely close to all the younger members of the team. So much so that Agent Gideon and Agent Hotchner didn’t even blink twice if they saw you in the bullpen, accompanying one of the team members. You had first met the BAU team members through one of your best friends at the bureau, Penelope Garcia.

Outside of the office, you enjoyed baking pastries, desserts, and other goods and you would often bring them to work and drop them off in the various break rooms around the buildings. You didn’t realize that Penelope enjoyed your cupcakes enough to devise a hunt on who was leaving the baked goods and to say you were mildly surprised that random Tuesday morning bringing in brownies after baking them the night before.

It was safe to say you became fast friends with eclectic and funky technical analyst. Penelope then introduced you to the BAU and you found that you fit right in. You and Morgan often reminisced about both of your fathers that died on duty to their respective police departments. You and JJ enjoyed organizing a 1 on 1 game of soccer to get a quick workout in. You and Elle, the newest addition to the BAU team, traded family recipes, both coming from Spanish households.

However, there was one member of the team that the moment you met, you just clicked with, even more than Penelope. That member was Dr. Spencer Reid, the young 23, now 24, year old genius who was a better expert in anything than anyone you had ever met.

On weekends when the BAU didn’t have a case, you and Spencer would get a coffee and walk around bookshops in the D.C. area. If you saw a documentary or play being held nearby, you would check with Spencer if he wanted to join you. When he found out you couldn’t ride a bike, he offered to teach you and took you to the park where you spent the day laughing and bonding over scrapped knees. Sometimes, you would walk into the bullpen and Spencer would have a new factoid about baking and others, he would have a whole new recipe that he thought you might like. You two just meshed together really well.

Spencer, who seemed more awkward and shy at first, quickly opened up to you once you made it known that you didn’t care if he rambled on about something new he learned or that you didn’t find it weird how he could read quickly yet didn’t fully trust new technology.

You, who struggled with people pleasing and perfectionism, weren’t afraid to show flaws and mistakes in front of Spencer who encouraged you that your slightly lopsided souffle still tasted great and that the neighbor at your apartment complex who you had spent a year and a half to befriend wasn’t worth your time or effort anymore.

Unfortunately, being so close with Spencer meant you knew all of him and it was impossible to squash the blazing crush your heart and mind had set on him. Both of you were single and it technically wasn’t prohibited to date within the bureau if you were on different teams, like you and Spencer are, but after knowing the man for about a year and a half and spending so much time with him, you were almost sure he wasn’t interested in you.

He hadn’t made any move to ask you out or turn any of your regular outings into a date and you were being incredibly not subtle about your affections on the young genius to the point that you would definitely question his ability as a profiler if he wasn’t able to pinpoint your adoration and crush on him.

The smartest thing for you to do would be to distance yourself from Spencer and maybe try and get over him by going on dates, but everytime you thought about doing so, you would get a call from Spencer and it was like your heart couldn’t tell him no.

Which brought you to present day, singing happy birthday and celebrating Spencer’s 24th birthday with the rest of the BAU team. Spencer, dressed in a checkerboard light blue shirt with a ridiculous birthday hat shaped like a cartoon birthday cake that Derek had bought for him, was sitting at his desk in front of a cake you had made him.

As you ended the celebratory happy birthday song, you watched as Spencer went to blow out the candles and they kept relighting.

Derek was jokingly mocking him, telling him he was full of hot air, and JJ and Elle were laughing quietly as Spencer kept blowing at the candles.

You decide to take some pity on the situation and tell him, “Spence,” You address, not noting the way Spencer immediately looked towards you when you called him, “They’re trick candles that Derek bought. No matter how much blowing they’ll never go out.”

Derek awed now that his prank was done and JJ left briefly to go get a cup of water to be able to put the still lit candles out. You just came up closer to Spencer.

“Happy birthday, Spence!” You wish him as you wrap your arms around his shoulders and hug him from behind. It was a bit awkward since he was sitting down and you were standing up, but his height made it easier.

As JJ came back and took off the candles, Elle was ready with the cake knife that you had brought along with the cake, paper plates, and utensils.

“Aw, come on,” Derek playfully complained as he saw the inside of the cake, “Vanilla? Really, that’s so boring!” He said even though his eyes told a different story.

You chuckled and patted Spencer’s shoulders with your hands before moving to help Elle get slices cut for everyone, “Alright, Derek. When it’s your birthday, you get to choose the flavor.” You reprimand him, equally as playful in tone.

“And,” You add, “Vanilla isn’t boring. A good vanilla is the best flavor there it.” You hand off one of the paper plates to Spencer who looked ready to dig into his favorite flavor of cake.

He nodded along to what you were saying as well, “Did you know that when vanilla first left Mexico in the early 1500s, it was thought to only have value as an ingredient and aromatic in perfumes? It wasn’t until 1519 that it was discovered to the Spaniards to be useful as a flavoring.”

You smiled, “No, I didn’t know. That’s really cool. Vanilla is one of my favorite flavors to bake with.” You say, “Did you know that vanilla is still the most popular ice cream flavor in the U.S?”

Spencer nodded, his mouth chewing the moist vanilla cake that you had made the night before in preparation of his birthday.

In fact, he was actually over at your apartment as you baked his cake. You at first argued against him being there, wanting his cake to be a surprise, but he convinced you that you were only baking the cakes that night and you were going to wait to frost it in the morning. And of course, you couldn’t say no to Spencer so he sat on one of your barstools as you mixed up ingredients for the vanilla cake batter. He also licked the spatula and bowl clean afterwards and you allowed it because he was the birthday boy (you also couldn’t say no to Spence).

“Oh my god,” You heard Elle say, “This is the best cake I’ve ever had.”

JJ and Derek chuckled and you beamed under the praise, “Just wait until your birthday, Elle. I’ll make you that Caramel Flan recipe you gave me.”

“I would literally kiss you.” She stated, her eyes widened just with the thought of the delicious Cuban dessert.

“Pucker up,” You joked and turned your cheek to Elle, leaning your cheek closer and tapping on it. All of you laughed and JJ and Derek broke off in conversation with Elle about the other cakes and desserts you had made them for their birthdays.

“I don’t think I’ve told you thank you,” Spencer says to you while picking at his cake slice, “Thanks for making my cake and for doing all this,” He gestures to the small birthday decorations around his desk.

You shrugged it off, “Spence, you are my best friend, of course I would do all this. Plus, it was my treat.”

Spencer blushed, an easy and common occurrence, “Don’t let Penelope hear you call me your best friend.” He playfully warned, pointing the end of his fork at you jokingly.

You both chuckled, “I would never hear the end of it, that’s for sure.” You stand up straighter and exclaim, “Oh!”

You move around Spencer’s desk and he watches as you bend down and reveal a bag, being grasped in your hand.

Spencer once again pointed his fork at you, “We agreed on no gifts.” He stated, eyeing the bag you were holding that had a big happy birthday text on the front surrounded by glitter.

“You agreed on no gifts.” You replied, handing the bag off to your best friend, “I said no such thing.”

He pulled the first thing out of the bag, it was a pack of socks. Funky socks that you had found at different thriftstores.

“That’s just to add to your sock collection.” You say as he inspects them, you point down at his own socks that he’s wearing right now, “You can mix and match them all you like.”

He grins and compliments your taste, looking at the cool patterns, before reaching again into the bag and pulling out a navy blue neck pillow.

“For the long plane rides. So your neck doesn’t ache as badly.” You explain.

He thanks you and places it on his desk, pulling out the next gift. It was just a simple Barnes & Noble gift card. You made sure you didn’t pick a card that would show the price because you knew Spencer would scold you for giving him $100 to spend on books.

“You’ve mentioned some new books coming out soon.” You simply state. “There’s one more thing in there.”

The last thing in the gift bag was a special item, something that you would never dare tell Spencer what you paid for it. It was a book light, one that could be wrapped around his neck and then beamed warmer light, not fluorescent brightness.

You smile, “You told me about how you had to get reading glasses the other day because your eyes were straining a lot when reading. I saw this and thought the warmer light could help with the eye straining and you could read better.”

He returned your smile, looking down at the light and checking it out.

“It’s some new technology or something, but I swear it’s super simple. All you have to do is press the button on the side and it uses batteries. I think you can dim it too.” You explain.

“I-I don’t know what to say,” He stutters, “This has to be the most thoughtful gift I’ve gotten in a long time.” He says.

You don’t say anything, knowing he was probably thinking about his mother and how she is living in the care facility all the way back in Las Vegas.

You kiss the top of his head, “Happy Birthday, Spence.” You say.

The birthday celebration is shortly lived when Agent Gideon and Agent Hotchner walk over to your group gathered at Spencer’s desk.

“Sorry, guys, the party’s over.” Agent Hotchner says, “We’re going to San Diego.”

The team sulks and wishes Spencer once more, a happy birthday and then splits off, going to get ready to fly out. You clean up the mess from the cake left behind and smile at Spencer as he also debates on leaving you here, alone.

“I’ll see you when you get back, Spence.” You say, gathering used plates and utensils, “We can go grab some takeout or something.”

“I-I’d love that.” He says as he grabs his gifts and his satchel bag, “I’ll, um, call you when we’re landing.”

You nod and wave to him as he leaves the bullpen area, leaving your aching heart behind as well.

Later, Spencer sits with Elle waiting for the unsub to call into the San Diego Police Department tip line after claiming they made an arrest to the Tommy Killer. An arrest that the BAU team knew they could orchestrate to lure out the real Tommy Killer.

Spencer ponders outloud, “Do you think it’s weird that I knew the ballad?” He asks Elle.

Derek had made a comment that Spencer knew was supposed to be a joke, but it still made him wonder. Is his vast database of knowledge a factor in why he doesn’t date or get dates? Does it make him unattractive or undesirable? Is it an annoyance? Do people just tolerate him?

Elle shakes her head, “I don’t know how it is that you know half the things you know but I’m glad you do.” She replies.

“Do you think it’s why I can’t get a date?” He prods again, wanting her opinion on the subject since she is a woman.

“You ever ask anyone out?” She prods back.

Spencer shakes his head, “No.” He responds.

Elle points at him, “That’s why you can’t get a date.” She states.

Spencer furrows his eyebrows, “How would one go about that?” He inquires, “Asking one out on, uh, on a date.” He shyly implores.

Elle seems a little shocked before she looks at him questioningly and sees him fiddle with his hands and then look down at his feet and smile. She follows his line of vision to see that Spencer had changed socks, specifically into the ones you had just given him for his birthday.

“Oh my god,” She says, realizing what Spencer was inherently asking, “You wanna ask out-”

She nearly points it verbally and Spencer sits up straighter and tenses up knowing what she is going to say, but he is saved by the bell, or at least by the ringing of a phone.

“Detective Martin.” He hears the man introduce himself to hopefully would be the real Tommy Killer. Spencer moves out of his seat quickly and towards the detective on call, leaving Elle speechless and a little bit flabbergasted by the deduction she made. His heart slowly calms down and he wipes his hands on his pants before gladly moving focus to the case.

God, he’s never been so thankful for a rageful unsub.

And finally, at the end of the Tommy Killer case on the plane with the rest of the team in bound for Quantico once again, Spencer sat against one of the comfortable BAU jet seats. It was a longer flight back home, from San Diego, California to Quantico, Virginia, but it sure did helped that they rode in style and comfortably.

He looked out one of the small airplane windows to see the night sky. He was putting your gifts to good use as well. The neck pillow was around his neck in a bulky manner, his socks that he wore were from the variety pack you had gotten him, and as Spencer rifled through his satchel bag to grab a book to read for the rest of the flight, he also gingerly took your gift in hand.

Spencer took the neck pillow off of the back of his head and stuffed it into his bag before taking out his latest book and the book light you had gotten him.

He was just setting it up to read his book when he heard a mix between a chuckle and a scoff from somewhere else on the plane. He turned to see Derek.

“Sorry, pretty boy,” Derek said, although his tone wasn’t sorry at all, “It’s just-” He gestured around his own neck and pointed at Spencer’s.

“This whole thing? C’mon boy genius, what even is that?” He asks while stifling a laugh.

Spencer can feel his face turn beet red and he quickly goes to defend his new gift, a gift that you gave him, “I-it helps reduce eye strain when reading!”

JJ pipes in and playfully shoves Derek’s shoulder, “Oh come on, Derek, lay off him. You know who gave it to him.”

Then Elle interjects, “Could this be the same person who Spencer wants to ask out?” She asks the group.

“Ask out?” JJ reiterates before getting a confirmation in the form of Elle nodding, “Oh my gosh, Spencer, you should totally ask her out!” She encourages.

“Do you even know how to ask someone out, pretty boy?” Derek teases. Spencer’s face, if possible, turns even more red as he goes to avoid the question.

The group took Spencer’s silence as a cry for help apparently, because next thing Spencer knows, all three are giving him advice on how to ask out someone. Advice that Spencer really didn’t need solicited to him.

“He should invite her over to his place!”

“No, no, no! Take her to a classy dinner!”

“What about a movie date?”

He sighs and puts his book and his new book light (which doesn’t fail to bring a smile to his face everytime he sees it) back in his satchel bag and gets up from his seat. The group of three don’t even notice Spencer walking to the other half of the plane, the more quiet end housing Hotch doing paperwork and Gideon sitting in front of a chess board.

He takes a seat in front of Gideon and inspects the chess board and the current state of both sides. Chess with Gideon made sense. He didn’t have people in his ear telling him what to do or nervousness creep up on him every time he saw a board. He knew chess. Chess was much more simple.

Gideon looks at Spencer for a bit and the two interchange pieces quickly and it isn’t long until half the board is gone and the game slows down a bit.

“Oh,” Gideon says before reaching into his pocket, “I almost forgot. I have something for you.”

“Oh, yeah?” Spencer acknowledges, mostly focusing on the chess game at hand.

Gideon hands Spencer an envelope, “Forgot to give it to you at the party.” He simply explains.

Spencer is a bit confused, “But you don’t give birthday presents.” He states as a fact.

He opens the envelope and finds two tickets and he reads the header text on them out loud, “Sir Law Table?” He says. It only makes him more confused.

Gideon corrects his pronunciation with a smile, “Sur La Table.”

Spencer’s eyebrows furrow as he tries to make sense of the gift, “Thank you so much.”

“It’s a 6-week cooking course.” Gideon explains, “For two.” He adds. “Do you cook a lot?”

“I can’t say that I do.” Spencer responds.

Gideon waves off his confusion, “You’re gonna love it.”

“Sure,” Spencer replies, “Are you a good cook?”

“Yes, I like to think I am.” Giden chuckles, “But those tickets are not for you and me.” He points out.

Now this leaves Spencer even more confused, “They’re not?”

“No.”

“Who for then?” He inquires.

There’s a glimmer in his eye, a youthful and playful one that Spencer doesn’t quite recognize in Gideon, “For the only person in the world that calls you Spence.”

It leaves Spencer speechless, still holding the two tickets in his hand. Just at the mere mention of you, his hands start to clam up a bit and he can feel his heart starting to beat a little faster.

Gideon smirks, “It’s a perfect way to ask a girl out on a first date.”

“W-wh-what?” Spencer stutters. “B-b-but how do I-- what do I--,” He clears his throat and tries to verbally put together his racing thoughts, “What if she says no?”

“She won’t.” Gideon simply states. He leaves Spencer to the rest of his thoughts as he moves a pawn on the board.

It seems that Spencer has calmed his mind and thoughts as he glances at the tickets again, rubbing his fingers between the paper of the two raffle style tickets.

Gideon can see the cogs turning in the boy genius’s mind slowly start working at a normal speed again and it seems like Spencer has made up his own mind when he turns his attention back to the board, but only for a small second.

Spencer moves his bishop across the board and pauses to look up at Gideon with his own playful sparkle now in his eye, “Checkmate.” He says and then leaves Gideon to the thoughts of the game before returning to his own seat where his bag still stays.

Gideon watches as Spencer waves off the three younger BAU members and whatever they were wanting to say to the youngest member of the team.

It’s only a few hours later and after the BAU jet lands that Hotch, JJ, Elle, Derek, and Gideon gather around waiting for the elevator to arrive that they all turn around to now face the glass doors that enter into the bullpen to watch a very happy sight.

Spencer approaches you and says something that the group can’t quite make out so far away with some type of paper or papers in his hand, but its clear what the reaction is when you nod your head and gleefully respond to something that looks like a large yes and launch into Spencer with a gigantic hug.

You and Spencer are still intertwined in your hug when Spencer spots the rest of his team outside, watching through the glass doors. He gives Gideon a nod and mouths a thank you just as the elevator arrives to bring everyone home.

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