[мαѕтєяℓιѕт]

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❦ (Smut; 18+, MDNI) | ★ (Humor) | ☁︎(Angst) | ❀ (Fluff)

˗ˏˋѕєяιєѕˎˊ˗

**still being written (most can be read as standalones)

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˗ˏˋσηє-ѕнσтѕ / ∂яαввℓєѕˎˊ˗

𝐆ɦⱺ𝗌𝗍 𝐌α𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋ᥣ𝗂𝗌𝗍

ρяι¢є 𝐌α𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋ᥣ𝗂𝗌𝗍

𝐒ⱺαρ 𝐌α𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋ᥣ𝗂𝗌𝗍

𝐆αƶ:

⤷ One shots: [Unscripted★❀] [Control Issues Gaz ☁︎] [Toxic!Gaz breaking up with you vs you who didn't even know you were dating★] [The myth of abduction with Price and Gaz ☁︎] [Like father like son Price x Gaz❦☁︎]

⤷ Drabbles: [Overstimmed by Gaz❦]

𝐎𝗍ɦ𝖾𝗋𝗌/𝐌υᥣ𝗍𝗂:

⤷ König, Graves, Nikto, Task Force 141, Alejandro, Rudy, etc)

⤷ ★Touch Starved: (Crackfic) Reader vs The Avengers

⤷ Two Sides of The Same Damn Coin: Bucky x Reader x Loki

⤷ ❦❀ All The Times You Slept In Bucky’s Bed:  Bucky x Reader Currently being rewritten

⤷ ❦ Two’s A Handful: Steve x Reader x Bucky

⤷ ★ Resemblance:  (Crackfic) Johnny Storm x Reader x Steve Rogers

⤷ ☁︎ The Burden of Godhood: (Loki x Reader) Or in which, the Loki at the end of time realizes he loves you in every universe and in every universe you hate him. Except for one.

⤷ ❦ Clark uses his X ray vision to watch as he fucks you

⤷ ❀❦★ Lightning Strikes Twice: Nightwing x Reader

⤷ ❦ DC boys getting a hand job after you got a new nail set

⤷ ❦ Soulless!Sam is curious what sex is like without emotional attachments

⤷ ★❦ You just found out Chuck was God after sleeping with him (Crackfic. Reader Crash out fic)

⤷ ❦ Always Been You: (Teacher x Student) Aizawa x Reader

⤷ ❦ He just wants your douchebag boyfriend to shut up (COD, DCU, Marvel, SPN, MHA, JJK)

⤷ ☁︎❀ Your spouse watches you get ready in the morning after a depressive episode (COD, DCU, Marvel, SPN, MHA, JJK, Naruto)

⤷ ❦ Toji keeps going even after the sex pollen wears off (JJK)

⤷ ❀ There's a betting pool for how long it takes Robby to realize he's in love with Whitaker (The Pitt)

sure I may have violated 15 traffic laws but at least I used my fcking blinker while I did it

tell me why my Gaz truth serum part has been finished for a week and a half and yet executive dysfunction won’t let me finish editing it

which is especially rude because this usually only happens when there’s an Actual Deadline attached, and there is no deadline here except for the slowly increasing number of asks in my inbox going “👀 gaz truth serum when??”, my brain deciding that disappointing people is a crime punishable by death, and me staring at the draft like if i don’t post it soon i will personally ruin everyone’s day

so now the only thing stopping me from hitting publish is ✨anxiety✨ and the overwhelming fear of letting people down, which is a very cool and productive mental state to be in 🫡

Simon “I purposely antagonize the missus so she yells at me” Riley is currently getting reamed a new one in the middle of base, and Gaz- poor unfortunate soul- walks right into the middle of it.

You’ve got Ghost pinned in place with nothing but your voice. No hands on him, no weapons, just fury and sharp words.

Kyle slows. Stares. Immediately regrets having eyes.

And yet he can’t look away.

He drifts over to Soap, who’s posted up nearby like this is a cinema and he paid for premium seating. “Uh,” Gaz says quietly, because volume feels disrespectful in the presence of whatever that is. “What’s all that about?”

Soap doesn’t even glance over. “That’s his missus,” he says, like he’s explaining the weather. “And he must have done some thin’ truly bad this time, ‘cause she’s been going at him for twenty minutes.”

Gaz’s brows shoot up. “Should we… help? Get him out of it?”

Soap makes a noise halfway between a laugh and a snort. “Help? Mate, look at him.”

Gaz looks.

Really looks.

Ghost’s shoulders are relaxed. Not braced. Not defensive. His weight’s pitched forward, like he’s drawn to you by gravity. Half lidded eyes, head tilted, body language screaming more, please while your words get sharper.

Gaz swallows. “He’s… enjoying this?”

Soap’s grin turns positively feral. “Turns him on. Si’s exactly where he wants to be right now.”

Gaz stares at Ghost like the man just sprouted another head.

And Ghost, like he can feel the judgment, flicks his gaze over, catches Gaz watching, and doesn’t even have the decency to look ashamed. If anything, his eyes crinkle like he’s smiling under the mask.

Nah because the nurses already know Robby has a thing for Whitaker. And worse, there’s a betting pool.

The bet starts because Robby says Dennis like that.

It’s 09:07, the board is on fire, there are three ambulance stretchers parked in the hallway because there are no rooms, and Whitaker comes skidding in ten minutes late with damp hair and his badge on sideways.

“Sorry, sorry, traffic was- ”

Robby doesn’t scowl. He doesn’t lecture. He doesn’t even sigh.

He looks up from the chart, sees Whitaker, and his whole face does this ridiculous micro softening thing like someone just handed him morphine in human form.

“Dennis,” he says, all warm relief and fond exasperation. “Good. You’re here. Come with me.”

Dana, Princess, and Jesse all clock it at the same time.

The second Whitaker disappears into Trauma 3, Dana uncaps a dry erase marker and flips the little side board over.

“Okay,” she says. “New pool.”

She writes in big block letters:

HOW LONG TIL ROBBY REALIZES HE’S IN LOVE WITH WHITAKER

Underneath:

A) Already did, he’s just dumb

B) Eventually, after catastrophic epiphany

C) Never, man will die of repression

Princess slaps a ten under A without looking up from her charting. “He made him coffee twice yesterday and labeled the cups, Dana. He’s gone.”

Jesse tosses a five onto B. “He’ll figure it out when Whitaker shows up with a date and Robby has a stroke in the meds room.”

Mateo rolls his chair over, eyes bright. “Twenty on C. That man thinks feelings are a side effect.”

They don’t have time to argue about it. The next ambulance hits the bay; the day goes sideways.

But once you’re looking for it, you can’t unsee it.

Robby, handing off the complicated family conversations to literally anyone except Whitaker.

Robby, assigning him the weird, messy cases with the kind of trust you don’t get from a teaching slide.

Robby, standing at the glass doors of CT with no patient of his own, just watching Whitaker talk a panicking teenager through their scan like he’s got all the time in the world.

“You are thirsty,” Perlah mutters under her breath from the nurses’ station. “Seek hydration, sir.”

By 19:30, the board looks like it’s been personally cursed. They lose a patient in Trauma 2; Whitaker comes out looking like someone took a bone saw to his ribs.

Robby is charting. He sees the expression, and he’s moving before anyone else even blinks.

“Dennis,” he says, catching him just past the doorway.

“I’m fine,” Whitaker lies.

“You’re not,” Robby says, so gentle it barely sounds like him. His hand lands at the back of Whitaker’s neck, thumb pressing into the tendon there, grounding. “You did everything right.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Whitaker says, voice thin. “He’s still- what if I’m not cut out for this? What if I went into the wrong residency- “

“I need you here,” Robby cuts in, soft but fierce. “Do you understand? I don’t like this place without you in it.”

At the station, every nurse goes perfectly, reverently silent as they all catch each other’s eyes.

Whitaker blinks up at him, eyes shiny, mouth parted around a breath that doesn’t quite make it to words.

“That sounds…” he manages, words dying in his mouth.

Robby’s ears actually go pink when he realizes what he said and he clears his throat. “Come on, “he mutters. “Five minutes. Stairwell. That’s an order.”

He steers Whitaker toward the stairs, hand still on his neck like he’s something fragile and precious instead of a half burnt out resident.

The door swings shut behind them.

Dana uncaps the marker in slow motion and draws a massive circle around A) Already did, he’s just dumb.

Princess extends her hand without looking away from the stairwell door. “Pay up.”

Jesse groans and shoves his five across the desk. Mateo sighs like a widower and adds his twenty to the pile.

“New pool,” Dana says, already writing.

Underneath the first one, in slightly messier handwriting:

HOW LONG TIL WHITAKER REALIZES IT’S MUTUAL

Princess throws another ten down immediately. “I give the boy two weeks.”

“Three months,” Perlah says. “Minimum. He’s as bad as Robby.”

Jesse taps his chin thoughtfully. “Put me down for ‘never’. We’ll be wheeling them into retirement and they’ll still be calling it mentorship.”

The stairwell door opens. Robby and Whitaker step back out, both a little more composed, both red eyed in the same way. Robby’s hand grazes Whitaker’s back as they split off toward different rooms, like he can’t quite not touch him.

The nurses all look at the board.

Yeah. The new pool’s going to be interesting.