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sosa2imagines · 1 day ago

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Finding you again... Part 10

Warning- Fluff.

Bucky had prepared.

He had prepared a lot.

He rehearsed his lines in front of the mirror, practicing different ways to tell you he loved you. He even had backup lines in case the first ones didn’t work.

He practiced different ways to say it, from the subtle yet heartfelt “I care about you more than I’ve ever cared about anyone else…” to the more straightforward “Listen, I love you!”

He even had a few friendship backup lines in case his first attempt at expressing himself didn't go as planned, but still, as he stood outside your door, he was nervous.

But when the moment finally came…

He forgot everything.

You were standing in front of him, looking up at him with those familiar eyes that had haunted his dreams for years, and suddenly, his mind went completely blank.

So, he just blurted it out.

“I love you...”

The words hung in the air between you, heavy with significance. Your eyes widened at the sudden confession, but Bucky found he couldn’t stop.

“I love you!” he reiterated, the words even surer this time.

Your heart fluttered inside your chest, but you remained unsure of what to say.

That’s when panic set in and Bucky kept talking.

“I mean…I’ve loved you for a while. I just didn’t know I did. Well, maybe I did, but I was too dumb to figure it out sooner. And honestly, you make me crazy…in a good way, not a Hydra way…God, that was a terrible thing to say, I just mean you…listen...I just...”

You laughed softly, and before he could ramble himself into another crisis, you reached up, cupping his face, and kissed him.

Bucky fell silent the moment your lips met his, stunned by the unexpected kiss. A rush of emotions surged through him, the world around them fading into the background as he focused solely on you, your touch, your breath, the way your fingers brushed against his skin. It was soft, gentle, yet enough to make Bucky freeze, his heart stuttering in his chest.

When you pulled away, you whispered, “I love you too, Bucky…oh my god I kissed you!!!”

For a second, he just stared at you.

Then…

“YES!”

Bucky literally jumped, throwing his fists in the air like he just won a jackpot. Then, before you could react, he grabbed you and spun you around, making you laugh as you held onto him.

Bucky's joy was infectious, his laughter filling the air. It was a side of him you hadn't seen before, a free and happy side that he had hidden deep within.

His eyes, usually guarded, now sparkled with a lightness you hadn't seen before.

“You love me!” he grinned, still holding you, “And you kissed me!”

“You love me too…” you teased, “And yes I did…”

“I do…” he said breathlessly. “And I’m gonna spend every day proving it to you.”

You smiled, cupping his face again. “Then shut up and kiss me again, Sergeant.”

Bucky didn’t need to be told twice.

He kissed you.

And this time, it was everything.

Life with Bucky Barnes was something you never thought you’d have.

After everything Hydra had put both of you through, after the years of separation and lost memories, it felt almost unreal to finally be together. But Bucky made sure you knew every single day that it was real. That you were real.

And that he wasn’t letting go.

Since then, mornings started with Bucky pulling you closer, nuzzling into your neck with a sleepy groan. He always woke up first but never got out of bed without making sure you were wrapped in his arms at least for a few more minutes.

“You’re warm…” he mumbled against your shoulder.

“And you’re clingy…” you teased, though you never pushed him away.

“Shut up. You love it.”

You did.

Afternoons were filled with little moments, whether it was training together at the compound, making fun of Sam, or Bucky sneaking into the coffee shop just to see you.

“Sergeant Barnes,” you greeted one day as he leaned on the counter, giving you that smirk that made your heart race.

“Sweetheart,” he replied smoothly. “What do you recommend today?”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “You always get the same thing.”

“Yeah, but I like hearing your voice.”

God, he was impossible.

Evenings were spent at home, curled up on the couch, sometimes watching old movies that Bucky insisted you had to see, or just sitting in comfortable silence.

One night, as you traced patterns on his vibranium arm, Bucky looked at you with a soft expression.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

“For what?”

“For never giving up on me,” he said. “Even when I didn’t remember you. Even when I didn’t remember myself.”

You smiled, leaning up to kiss him. “I’d do it all over again, Bucky.”

His hand gently cupped your face. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Years ago, you had believed in the man behind the Winter Soldier mask, even when no one else did.

And now, here he was, loving you in ways you never even dreamed of.

Bucky Barnes was finally free.

And for the first time in both of your lives…

You were happy. Both of you were happy and hopelessly madly in love.

Part 9- Complete.

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obvithe-bestsoph · 19 hours ago

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poderia fazer um onde Pau Cubarsí é melhor amigo do irmão da leitora mas gosta dela?

brother's best friend.

masterlist requests word count: 1k+

a/n: request translation: "Could you make one where Pau Cubarsí is the reader's brother's best friend but likes her?" "yours, if you want me.", part 2, is now up! genre: fluff. brother's best friend. lamine's sister. summary: being the twin sister of the lamine yamal means that he's tried to teach you football all your life, and it's never worked, but maybe things are different when it's one of his teammates teaching you. warnings: none. kinda angsty? not really tho.

You’re used to Pau being around.

Ever since Lamine joined La Masia, Pau had practically become part of the family. He was always at your house, kicking a ball around in the backyard, playing FIFA with your brother, sleeping over after games.

You didn’t think much of it at first. He was just another one of your brother’s many friends, tall and awkward and sweet in that boyish way.

But lately, it felt… different.

You noticed how Pau’s eyes lingered a little too long when you walked into the room. How, sometimes, he stumbled over his words when you talked to him directly. How he always found a reason to sit next to you at the dining table, even if it meant switching chairs four times and making a million excuses.

You tried to ignore it. Tried.

But it was hard when he looked at you like he wanted to say something that he couldn’t.

The day the confession almost happened was the day Lamine dragged both of you out to a local park for a kick around.

“C’mon, just come with us,” he groaned. “It’s not the World Cup final, it’s just Pau and me. You can just stand there and look pretty or whatever.” Lamine, annoying as always, smears a hand across your face, making you bat his arm away and scoff.

“Gee, thanks,” you said dryly.

Pau, following behind him, caught your eye and smiled slightly. “You’ll have fun. Ho prometo (i promise).”

You rolled your eyes, but you went anyway, telling yourself that it was just to get some fresh air. Definitely not because Pau asked.

At the park, the boys immediately started juggling the ball back and forth between themselves, laughing and trash talking to each other. You sat on a nearby bench, reading a book and enjoying the sunlight, until you heard Pau shout out to you.

“Ei (hey)! Vine aquí (come here)!”

You looked up. He was standing in the middle of the grass, ball tucked between his arm and waist, grinning.

“I don’t play!” you called back.

“You don’t have to,” he said. “Just pass it.”

Reluctantly, you stood up, jogging towards the two of them, oddly nervous. You aren’t quite sure of why there are butterflies in your stomach as you get closer, Lamine’s attempted to teach you how to play a million times in your life, what’s different now?

When you reached them, Pau tossed you the ball lightly. You caught it (barely).

“Vale,” he said, stepping closer. “Rule number one: don’t be afraid of the ball.”

You frowned at him. “I’m not afraid.”

He laughed, that easy, low laugh you loved. “You flinched.”

“Did not.” “Did too.” “Did not.”

Your twin groaned once again, stealing the ball from your hands. “God, you two are worse than an old married couple.”

You and Pau froze, exchanging a glance so quick that it almost didn’t even happen.

Of course, Lamine didn’t notice; too busy juggling the ball between his feet. “I’m serious, though. Keep your eyes open. Ball control’s all about confidence.”

You tried to focus, but it was impossible with Pau hovering behind you so closely, quietly encouraging you, his hand brushing your arm ever so often like he couldn’t help himself.

At one point, you missed a simple shot and groaned. “I suck.”

“You don’t,” Pau said instantly, voice firm. “You just need practice.”

You looked up at him, ready to roll your eyes, but he wasn’t teasing. He was looking at you like you were something special and precious.

Your breath caught for what felt like the millionth time that day.

You were saved from saying something stupid by Lamine yelling about some competition with Pau, the two of them becoming busy again, leaving you standing there, your heart pounding.

Later, after your brother had dropped to the grass in exhaustion, Pau wandered back over to you.

“Hola,” he said, sitting down beside you.

“Hey,” you replied softly.

The late afternoon sun gave his soft brown hair a golden tint, making him look so effortlessly beautiful, although, what’s new there?

“You were good today,” he spoke softly.

“You’re a liar,” you said, but you smiled.

He smiled too, showing all his teeth, happy. “Not lying.”

For a second, you just sat there. The sounds of the park faded around you - kids yelling at the playground nearby, dogs barking, the distant thud of a football being kicked.

It was just him. It was always just him.

“You’re different when he’s not looking,” you said, without really knowing where you were taking this.

Pau tilted his head, confused. “Què vols dir (what do you mean)?”

“You’re… brave,” you said. “But also softer.”

Pau looked away, picking at the grass between his fingers. When he spoke, his voice was quiet, almost a whisper.

“It’s easier when it’s just you.”

You swallowed hard. “Pau-”

“I know I’m not supposed to,” he said quickly, words tumbling out. “I know it’s, like… off-limits or whatever. You’re his twin sister. He’s one of my best friends. It’s messy.”

You stared at him, heart racing.

“But I like you,” he said, finally meeting your eyes with his striking green ones. “I have for a long time.”

The world felt like it was spinning for a moment. The sun felt hotter. The grass felt softer. Your chest felt full and tight all at once.

You opened your mouth to respond, but then Lamine yelled from across the field, “Oi, lovebirds! You coming?”

You and Pau both flushed, knowing he was only teasing and had no idea what was actually going on, but the two of you scrambled to your feet like you’d been caught doing something illegal.

As you walked back, Pau kept a careful distance, not touching you, not looking at you. Like he was scared he’d crossed a line he couldn’t uncross.

But when your hand brushed his by accident, you felt his fingers twitch toward yours, and yours to his.

You didn't grab it. Not yet. But you would. Soon.

Because maybe things were messy.

But some messes are worth making.

Especially for Pau Cubarsí. "YOURS, IF YOU WANT ME." HERE

#pau cubarsi #pau cubarsi fic #obvithebestsoph!paucubarsi #pau cubarsi x reader #fc barcelona #fanfiction #football #football fic #culer #teenage romance #PC2

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tinytalkingtina · 2 days ago

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WIP Weekend

Thanks for the tags @vthx @sourw0lfs and @hbyrde36 (one of these days I will remember to make this post on Thursday evening to be ready)!

Rules: Send me an emoji in an ask, and I'll write 3-5 sentences and/or paragraphs from that WIP. No limits to the amount of emojis you can request, please feel free to send multiple

🐶 B.A.D. D.O.G. (sequel to the college AU puppy play Stomeddie/Stommie fic) is nearly there! I need to finish fleshing out Tommy and Steve's original relationship a bit more.

🧜‍♂️ Participating in the STMonsterCalendar Mermay Bingo event, with 2/4 fics for this completed so far. Just the SFW paired buckingham/steddie fics to finish. The Munver (TigerFreak) fic and M/E-rated Steddie fic may pop up too as I edit those this weekend.

🏴‍☠️ Eddierotica: "Eddie writes the world's worst erotica about characters who are just poorly disguised versions of himself and Steve. They're not dating." continues! This week may involve a lot more Steve descending into madness as he reads. 💥Steddie Big Bang: Secret fic is almost at 4k now, and we are in the middle of a particularly fun scene involving [redacted]. This can't be publicly shared yet, so if you send in this emoji feel free to pick another fic as well, and I'll write 3 sentences for both. Tagging a few folks to join in the fun too:

@queenie-ofthe-void @yesdangerpls @onirislanding @felixir-of-moths

@hitlikehammers @augustjustice @eriquin @fkinkindagauche @strangerthingswritersguild Enjoy a NSFW snippet from 🏴‍☠️ below the cut featuring Eddie's ADHD brain at work

The prince took off his shirt. Edmund swallowed, staring at rippling abs that galloped like the stallions he took care of daily. He hoped the prince was equally hung. His majesty noticed him staring and smiled, hands aloft before Edmund’s still-laced trousers. "Stable boy, you are of course familiar with the stoplight system, yes?" The prince asked of Edmund. "Yes my liege. Red means stop, yellow means slow down or pause, and green means go! Also my name is Edmund sire, if you wish to call me that.” “You are such a perfect boy,” the prince cooed much like a dove would. “And, Edmund the stable boy, do you have a safe word?” “Yes your excellency. It is 'Charizard'." "I shall endeavor to remember that," the prince replied. "Consent is something I strive for in every sexual encounter. Otherwise I could very well have accidentally triggered you!" After a moment in which they both considered the importance of consent, the prince laid Edmund down among the hay and finally undid the laces upon his trousers. His slightly smaller larger than average cock sprang up begging for attention. The prince freed his own well-endowed girthy length and rubbed it against Edmund’s to let the two of them get to know each other. “Why Edmund the stable boy, it would appear they like each other!” The prince exclaimed. It was true: their penises were wriggling and drooling in excitement. Edmund scooped some of their pre-ejaculate up with his fingers and licked. The taste was delectable. Like the finest candy, if candy was slightly bitter. So really, it was licorice (the real kind, not Twizzlers). Edmund whimpered. “Oh sheriff, please, free me from such exquisite torment!” The sheriff gets rougher with Edgar the outlaw, stroking the two of them easily with one of his big ol’ bear paw hands. Wait, what? When did a sheriff come in? Steve reread the page. Huh, Eddie must’ve gotten bored halfway through writing or something. He shrugged to himself and started jerking off again, this time picturing ass-less chaps and hats instead of robes and crowns: “Calm down little filly,” the sheriff says, slowing down. He smiles when Edgar whimpers and tries to rut against his large mitts. “Not that I’m misgenderin’ y’all, yer obviously a colt. This is jus’ foreplay for us Western folk.”

#i'm so mad that apparently steve actually DOES have larger hands than eddie now that i've checked #my joke has been ruined alas #wip weekend #tinawrites #eddierotica #puppy trio #mermay #steddie #stommie #stomeddie #buckingham #munver #tigerfreak

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classyrbf · 1 month ago

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classmate!gojo part 3!

classmate!gojo who has been watching you from afar for the past week now. His eyes are always gravitating towards you in class, trying to catch any other possible connection. He’s try so hard to convince himself that you’re not his mystery girl, but at this point he should just accept it. The photo of your nails was proof enough, not to mention how much of a rush you were in. Neither of you have texted or exchanged photos since then, and he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t driving him crazy. Every single day since then he can’t get you off of his mind, getting so hard from the thought of you that he has to sneak away to rub one out to your pictures or videos. He just can’t help himself.

He watches you in class, in the cafe area, even sees you walking on campus, doing normal things. He would have never guessed in a million years you were the one he sought after so badly. You hide it so well. But he knows deep down under that good girl persona you have, there’s a slut waiting to caught, waiting to be fucked and used like you told him all those times over text. He’ll make you break. He sees you sitting on a bench on campus just scrolling through your phone, knowing this is the perfect time to execute his plan.

He finally breaks contact, sending you a video he took of himself last night.

gojo: i miss you

it was simple, but he was hoping it’d work. He watches intently, a small smile spreading across your face, though he’s unsure if it’s because of him

gojo: send me something, yeah? miss seeing you, baby

and like clock work, he sees you get up, heading towards the bathrooms inside one of the campus buildings. What else to do but follow. He sees you slip into the bathroom, and now he finally has you where he wants you.

you enter the bathroom, riddled with excitement that he finally texted you. Maybe he didn’t catch on that you were the one sending him photos. Good, it means you can have more fun. You enter the stall, replaying the video of him jerking off, putting the phone close to your ear so you can his moans. You smile, your hands finding themselves under your skirt, rubbing your clit through your clothed pussy. Little do you know he’s standing right outside the door, waiting for you.

You unbutton your shirt and grab onto your tits, massaging them in your hand while you send him a video. Quickly, you send him another of your wet panties, still rubbing your clit.

you: missed you too. can you tell?

and gojo can’t believe it when he receives the videos, chuckling to himself at how slutty you can be. He saves the videos nonetheless and puts his phone back in his pocket, the bathroom door opening, you walking out, completely caught off guard. Your heart thumps against your chest, mouth hanging open like you want to say something but nothing is coming out. All you know is that you can’t stop staring at him. He’s smirking at you, eyeing like a piece of candy as he moves closer towards you, leaning over to whisper in your ear, “I know you’re little secret.” You’re frozen, unable to do a thing. You couldn’t even deny it at this point. “Give em to me,” he demands.

“W-what?” You blink, voice barely above a whisper. He moves back, a smug smile on his stupidly pretty face. God, he smells so good. And his whispering? You’re even more wet than before. He knows what he’s doing to you.

“Your cute little panties. Give them to me.” He’s so casual about it and makes you even more nervous yet more intrigued. You turn to go back into the bathroom but he grabs your arm. “No, no, no. Do it right here.”

“But—” you look around to see if anyone else is around.

“What? Scared of getting caught? Sure weren’t thinking about that when you sent me all these videos and pictures. So, hand them over.” He watches as you slightly bend over, reaching under your skirt and gently pulling your panties down, letting them fall to your ankles. You sheepishly pick them up, they’re coated in your slick, an embarrassing sight. He grabs them from you, chuckling at the wet stain. “Wasn’t so hard, right?” He shoves them into his back pocket.You shake your head no, unable to keep eye contact with him. All the confidence you had over text has completely disappeared in the presence of him. What were you even thinking? He’s Gojo Satoru. “Thank you for these, baby.” He steps closer towards you, cornering you against the wall. “Send me something else later on tonight. Oh, and make sure to stop hiding that pretty face of yours too, okay? I wanna see everything.” He grabs your chin, tilting it up so you were looking at him.

“Why don’t you just fuck me already? We’ve both been waiting long enough,” you abruptly ask. It was taking everything in you not to drop on your knees and let him fuck your face.

“I can fuck you right here if I wanted to. You know how’ve riled up you’ve gotten me for all these weeks? I get so hard thinking about you that it hurts. I can’t fucking cum if it doesn’t involve you. You’ve taken over my mind, made me go on this chase to figure out who you were. So, if I wanna make you wait a little more, then I’ll fucking do it.” He gritted his teeth, gripping your chin slightly tighter. “Remember, only good girls get rewarded.” He smirked, pulling away from you before walking out of the building like nothing happened.

previous part

#—☆classyrbf #jjk #jjk x reader #jujustu kaisen #jjk smut #gojo x reader #gojo x reader smut #gojo smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader smut #gojo smut drabble #gojo satoru smut drabble #jjk smut drabble #jjk x reader smut #gojo x you #gojo satoru x you #jjk gojo

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stvrkeysgal · 3 months ago

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casual enough? — rafe cameron

— what happens behind closed doors after rafe sees you hanging out with a different boy? with no exclusivity, what you had with rafe cameron was an absolute blur. until tonight.

warnings: smut! (piv, rafe does it ROUGHHHH) squirting, swearing, "slut" mention

you knew better than to mess with rafe. you were well aware of his jealous tendencies, anger issues, and how he acts when you so as much look at another guy when he's around.

but he's been testing your patience way too much for your liking as of the moment.

he had one arm wrapped around a blonde, smiling at what she said but clearly wasn't interested in what she was saying. you knew rafe—you had him wrapped around your finger, but the idea of him actually hanging around with a different girl (when he himself doesn't want you doing the same) had you seething mad.

so here you were, skin-to-skin against jj motherfucking maybank. his hands on your waist and your hips swaying to the beat of the music that traveled across the whole bar. you laugh at what jj says, and all that could rafe do is watch as you had fun with someone—someone that wasn't him.

rafe and you were nothing exclusive, that he always made sure of. but he could feel that deal slowly slipping away each time he sees you with anyone else. it was getting hard for him to ignore the pang in his chest every time the idea of you getting with someone crosses his mind.

tonight was no different.

rafe did his best to keep his cool, ignore the way you were pressed against jj's body, the two of you so close that your ass grinded against his fucking crotch every time your hips so much as swayed. rafe could see that clearly, and it was killing him.

the final straw, though, was when jj's hand snaked from your waist to your chest and then to your neck. he held you there for a few seconds, which had you turning back to him with a smirk. the original plan was to make rafe jealous, see how much it takes until he finally cracks. you decided to go along with jj since you knew how much the two despised each other. and judging by the way rafe's eyes bounced back from you and jj, a scowl present on his face, you knew the plan was working.

though, what you didn't expect was for rafe to walk towards you and jj, the blonde girl previously in his arms now forgotten. "i need to talk to you, right now." rafe says, standing in front of you and jj. you smirked instead, dancing once again. "sorry, cameron. i'm clearly busy here."

rafe scoffs then pulls you away from jj rather harshly, which had you glaring at him. "not a fucking fan of repeating myself, baby. either you come with me or i fuck you in front of everyone—including your boy right here." rafe had you pressed against him, his lips against your ear as he whispered.

he had you so speechless, that you just blinked at him slowly. your heart thumps against your chest rapidly, which has you sweating underneath his gaze. you look back at jj, but he already understands what you meant. he just winks at you before walking away with a smirk.

rafe seems to be satisfied by that, which brought him to grip your arm a little bit tighter. "if you know what's best for maybank, you're coming home with me."

✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭

"please, rafe. just give me a second." you were choking on your spit at this point, as rafe fucked you to the point of overstimulation. his hips slapped against the back of your thigh rather harshly, the skin already turning red due to his movements.

"you just don't want to admit it, but you know you love this dick too much to get me to fucking stop." rafe had your face buried in his pillows as he fucked you mercilessly from behind. he was proven right when you clench around his length, his words running through your mind.

"and i was right. got so fucking tight the moment i said that. you love this, don't you, baby?" you were a gasping, moaning mess underneath rafe. and all you could do was take his harsh thrusts.

your eyes rolled back, tears spilled from them as he kept the same pace while he fucked you through yet another orgasm. his thumb was hooked into the side of your mouth, the action keeping your head in place as he kept on thrusting into you.

you could only moan pathetically in response, eyes rolling back into your head while his cock practically tore you in half. rafe wasn't quite pleased though—he wanted to hear you talk, not moan. "i asked you a goddamn question, didn't i?" a spank landed on your ass then, which earned him a mewl instead. "you better fucking answer when i talk to you," he leans down then, mouth leveled with your ear as he spoke. "just a simple yes, slut. that's all i'm asking."

your hands gripped the sheets beneath you as you fought the urge to make a mess and squirt all over the sheets. but rafe had other plans. he flipped you over so you laid on your back, your eyes immediately meeting his. "fuck, yes! i love it, rafe. i love it so much." you managed to breathe out in between sighs and gasps, which had him smirking. "that's about right."

he could feel you clenching around his length once more, which he hissed softly. "shit, you gonna cum again? that's three times in a row, baby." his fingers moved to your clit then, rubbing the sensitive bud in fast, and hard circles. "come on, cum for me. wanna see you make a mess all over this dick."

after three particular thrusts, you gushed all over rafe's length, making a mess on the sheets and his stomach. "that's it, baby," he leans down until he was in level with your neck, in which he kissed and sucked slowly. "love it when you squirt all over me."

you could tell rafe was close, judging by the way his hips seemed to lose rhythm by the minute. "gonna fucking cum inside you, baby. gonna fill this pussy up." rafe fucks you through another orgasm, his mouth latched onto your neck while he did so.

what you don't expect are the words that come out of his mouth next. "don't want anyone having you like this, you get that? i'm fucking yours. i was always yours." rafe says through gritted teeth, while you stared at him with wide and teary eyes.

"fuck, i'm gonna cum." rafe finishes inside you after he says it, and he pulls away to watch him drip out of you slowly.

"in case it's not clear yet, i fucking love you so much. seeing you with jj like that killed me earlier. i want you all for myself, baby." rafe lays beside you, chest heaving up and down as he caught his breath.

"i love you too, rafe. you're it for me."

first actual rafe smut i wrote??? holy shit

drew / rafe's masterlist

#rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe x reader #rafe x you #rafe obx #rafe cameron #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey smut #drew starkey x you #rafe cameron fic #obx x reader

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lightseoul · 6 months ago

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a/n. second time writing from bkg's perspective. this was so fun! (1.1k)

the moment that cemented bakugou’s resolve to marry you wasn’t exactly grand.

it wasn’t your first kiss.

or the first time you made love to each other.

not even the first time you met his nerd-ass friends or his (slightly) overbearing parents. although those two come as close runner-ups.

no, it was rather a random saturday morning after you spent a night at his place, now clad in what he thinks is nothing but your intimates and a burnt orange t-shirt of his that drapes loosely over your frame.

and as he enters the kitchen and closes the distance between the two of you with a few strides, he can’t help but wonder what you’re doing—deeply focused on your laptop—when you’re probably the one who’s extra pedantic about not bringing work home.

“morning,” he grunts, leaning down to kiss your cheek, which you happily accept. although, to his chagrin, your eyes remain on your computer screen, not even sparing him a single glance.

he knows it’s fucking embarrassing, how strongly you elicit feelings within him without you even fucking trying, but he can’t stop the frown that takes over his face even if he attempted to fight it.

shaking off the irrational disappointment from not even being ignored, he rounds the kitchen island and starts brewing the two of you coffee.

“by the way,” he starts, glancing at you over his shoulder, “the old hag’s birthday is coming up. she wants to have dinner with just the four of us, or some shit.”

“i know,” you simply pipe up from where you’re seated on one of his fancy bar stools, gaze still glued on whatever the fuck it is that’s keeping your attention from him.

he turns to you, a manual coffee grinder in tow. “you do?”

at that, you finally look up at him, an innocent expression etched across your features. “you don’t remember? i asked you when your parents’ birthdays were way back in march.”

way back in march.

back when you unanimously decided to decisively end the dating phase and become boyfriend-girlfriend.

“yeah?” is the only thing he manages to get out.

you let out a soft laugh that’s nothing but music to his ears. “yeah, dummy.”

before you can get to see the red that’s most definitely creeping up to his cheeks, bakugou turns his back against you, returning to busying himself with crushing the beans into fine powder and pouring lukewarm water into the machine.

only a few months before reaching a full year together, and you still manage to make him fucking blush.

over the most mundane things, too.

when he first got into his very first relationship with you at the ripe age of 28, he thought he’d outgrown and was way past the embarrassing shit that the human body was capable of when dealing with anything remotely close to romance.

it didn’t take him long enough into your relationship to find out he was so, so wrong.

sighing, he pours out the cup of ground beans onto the filter, finally pressing the button and bringing the coffee maker to life.

you must be done with what’s highly likely is work by now.

but chancing a glance at you, he’s once again met with palpable disappointment when the very same sight greets him.

before he can rein them in, the words come tumbling out of his lips.

“the fuck is so important on that laptop?”

his booming voice must’ve caught you off guard, because you startle ever so minutely in your seat.

“sorry,” he quickly adds on, albeit through a mutter; frustration with himself and his inability to modulate his voice added to the increasingly long list of emotions he’s having to fucking deal with right now.

waving him off, you shoot him another one of that disarming smile of yours. “‘s funny that you ask. i was just about to ask you for your opinion.”

with that, you gesture him to come close with your fingers. curious, he once again rounds the island, ultimately occupying the spot to your right and leaning down to peer at the small text on your screen.

before he can even get a word in, you hurriedly explain yourself. “mitsuki-san mentioned her personal sewing machine broke, so i’ve been thinking about getting her a new one.”

you point to a sleek, off-white model among what looks to be a vast array of selections, “i researched the specs and i think this one’s the best. what do you think?”

a million things course through his mind in an instant, but what he ends up sputtering out is: “you’re such a fucking nerd, you know that?”

at that, you look up at him, your seemingly perpetually moisturized lips now formed into a playful pout, and it takes everything in him not to just pull you in for a kiss and completely abandon the conversation in its entirety.

but he’d like to think he at least has the slightest bit of self-control.

even if you do wear him the fuck out on a daily basis.

“i just want to make sure it’s perfect!” you argue, shifting to stare at your laptop again and bringing him back to the present. your voice is way smaller when you continue. “…i want her to like me.”

he doesn’t even miss a beat. “she already fucking does, dumbass.”

and she really does.

the morning after bakugou first brought you to meet his parents a whopping two months into calling it official, mitsuki texted him something along the lines of having the family heirloom slash ring already adjusted to fit your finger.

he immediately called the old hag after receiving the message just to reprimand her ear off for being too fucking forward and for meddling too much.

but, if he were to be completely honest with himself, he was angry not because mitsuki was imposing, but because he couldn’t believe his mother beat him to that important realization.

the realization that maybe, just maybe, you’re the one.

and now, as he studies you as you scroll through more and more iterations of the best sewing machines on the market with your eyebrows adorably furrowed in utmost concentration, it dawns on him.

it dawns on him that that maybe just turned into a definitely.

tagging. @bunnysaursushii @yawnzzzzzzzz @cholios @kashee-h @iluv-ace @lotuslovers @elarakive @sugurusmoon

˖⁺‧₊ this one made me smile like an idiot while writing lmao. as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 have a nice day!

#i do think he'll /know/ pretty early on #given how perceptive and decisive he is re: what he wants #just takes him an extra second given his inexperience with relationships #bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou imagines #mha imagines #bnha imagines #mha scenarios #bnha scenarios #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou imagine #bakugou drabble #bakugo x reader #bakugo x y/n

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nightingale-prompts · 6 months ago

Text

Beautiful Ghost-DC x DP prompt

Part of the Accidental Ghost Courting AU 》 HERE

We finally get Tim's perspective on Danny

If there is one thing everyone on campus knows it's that Danny Nightingale is hot. Not in the stereotypical supermodel or Hollywood way. He was so attractive it was scary like he dropped out of a fairy tale.

Tim first saw Danny after whispers started going around. He spotted Danny in the library walking towards the observatory on the top floor.

At first glance, you'd call him a goth and there was no shortage of people who'd love to date one. It's probably why no one shuts up about him. But Tim could tell this wasn't the corporate punk type goth that he saw Damian scrolling through on his phone. Tim was quick to tease Damian and stop what would inevitably become a phase.

No, Danny had a clear style. Classic gothic...but also not. It's hard to explain. His clothes looked handmade, straight out of the 1800s. Did he thrift or make them himself? He was an astronomy major right? Or was is engineering?

Danny looked almost ethereal. Tall, lean, and almost glowing skin. It wasn't until later that Tim would be close enough to see the way his skin sort of glittered in low light.

People parted to not obstruct Danny's path as he went toward the observatory.

Everyone knew that Danny was off limits, too cowardly to get the courage to ask him out and risk rejection. So Danny remained unreachable.

Tim paid it no mind. He acknowledged that Danny was good-looking but there wasn't much else that got his attention. Danny didn't pay attention to others.

But Tim couldn't help but notice that Danny was always alone in his own little world. There was a hint of longing in him. Tim might have overheard a few things.

Danny would usually be in the library reading eclectic materials, playing with tarot cards, and studying star charts. Other days he was in the greenhouse tending to a little corner of plants he was growing. He seemed bored. He looked like he'd rather be somewhere else.

Tim might have done some research. Just scrolling through Danny's social media. Pictures of friends and graveyards. Most of the landscape photos were taken after his arrival in Gotham. Tim gathered that Danny was alone out here and far from home. He could fit in easily around here but simply chose not to.

It wasn't until that faithful day when Danny offered him a bundle of red carnations and a cup of Death Wish coffee.

"You looked like you need this." He said smiling.

And wow...that smile. Tim didn't think he'd ever see a smile like that. It was a sort of lopsided smile, a bit clumsy but sweet. Danny had elongated canines. Were they fake or was it a medical condition?

Tim didn't know how to respond to Danny's offer but he wouldn't say no to a cup of coffee.

Over the next few weeks, Tim found himself on campus more often and hanging around Danny. Danny tended to be very generous. Always gave things to Tim, most of which he made himself. That is what made it all feel genuine. On cold days Danny always had a hot cup of coffee or tea. When it was sunny he had something sweet freshly baked. When it rained he had flowers to brighten the room. When it was foggy he wanted to go find something fun to do. Danny also worked at the flower shop nearby which was said to be haunted by the old owners.

Rumors spread more and more that Danny wasn't human, like some kind of fae that took human form. Was there a chance it was true? Yes. Does that mean that Tim was going to test that?

Yes.

So Tim just wanted to test that theory and gave Danny a bracelet that looked similar to the ones he usually had. It just so happened to be made of Iron. Tim felt bad about it (kinda) but it was just genuine curiosity.

But no Danny wasn't a fae. He was incredibly happy to get a gift though so no harm done.

Another thing Tim noticed was Danny's eyes. They weren't blue like he thought. Danny had central heterochromia. He had a ring of bright green near his iris surrounded by icy blue. Not that Tim was staring at his eyes or anything, just that no one ever mentions that part when describing Danny. It's pretty notable you know. More people should know that.

...

.....

It's normal to think that.

Anyways Tim and Danny meet up when they can. Danny likes visiting graveyards and abandoned churches. Not that he doesn't like the movies or arcades because he loves that stuff. But one time after a late class he dragged Tim with him on a scenic drive out of the city to this spot he found. It was this massive cliff just far enough from the city that you could see the stars.

Tim never really gave much thought to the stars. He's seen them thousands of times especially being carried around by Kon or on the Watchtower. But right then watching Danny fiddle with his telescope babbling on about the planets and far-off galaxies, the stars felt new and wondrous.

Was this what it felt like to be normal? Just a college kid going on a spontaneous road trip with a friend, not thinking about patrols or duties.

He liked it.

Danny had a way of making him forget about the rest of the world. Someone not linked to heroes and assassins. A friend, a weird one but one he didn't have to be Robin with. He was just Tim to Danny. Not Tim Wayne, not Tim Drake, just Tim.

Because of that, he wanted to keep Danny as far from his family as possible. They already think they were dating and he'd be damned if they scared Danny away. This didn't stop them from investigating Danny and that brat wont stop spouting his opinion.

"I don't know what he sees in you. Aside from appearance, there isn't much to like." Damian grumbled.

"He must be really vain then because Tim doesn't deserve this kid." Jason responded.

"But if he even thinks about hurting Drake-"

"Yeah, we bury him."

Tim has chosen to ignore everything they say.

The last issue is Phantom.

Tim doesn't like Phantom.

The spirit had been hanging around Gotham for a while now. He lingered around the corners of the city and if he felt like it he'd interfere. In his own words, Phantom said that he dealt with the dead, not the living. Tim did some research and it's said Phantom showed up near the dying or dead as a sort of shepherd to souls. He made the transition easier for them.

So when Phantom was seem lingering around Danny he couldn't accept it. He'd be damned if he let some spooky bastard take Danny. He can't have him.

So Tim decided to invite Danny to stay with him for a few days. But a few day became a week became two weeks. Don't judge. This was just so Tim could look out for Phantom and prevent Danny from dying. It hasn't been working so far since Phantom hasn't been seen nearby.

But Tim did run into him.

"Why are you stalking Danny Nightingale?" Tim damanded.

Phantom circled overhead his spectral tail curling. His translucent body phasing in and out of the visible light spectrum.

"Stalking? I don't know what you're talking about. I don't care about chasing the living. But let's say Nightingale is an exception. He's special. But what does he have to do with you?" Phantom eyes Tim suspiciously before diving down floated inches away from Tim face. "Hmmm, I always did think you were the cutest Robin. I was right. Too bad I've got my eyes on someone else now."

And like that he dissappeared.

Now Tim was even more anxious. Phantom was definitely after Danny most likely dead or alive. If something happened to Danny he didn't know what he'd do. Its not safe out there with Phantom hanging around.

Danny was still awake when Tim returned home. He was watching some detective drama he had refused to watch with Tim because he kept guessing the plot during the first few minutes. Which was fair.

"You were out late again. Would it kill you to get some sleep now and then?" Danny sighed stretching.

Tim wanted to say "Actually I think it would. Lets not test it" and banter like always. Maybe even relax and let Danny talk about where show was on.

But Tim couldn't. Not when everything felt so surreal. Danny was just oblivious to the dangerous spirit trying to take his soul and Tim couldn't protect him.

Tim couldn't believe he was thinking this but what if Danny wanted to be with Phantom? Then what?

Tim knew that his emotions were his greatest weakness. When he did control them he does a lot of self-destructive things and he ends up hurting people especially when he's hurt.

He hugged Danny, burying his face in his shoulder.

"Danny can you promise me...that you'll stay here." He didn't care if Danny wanted to be with Phantom just as long as he doesn't leave this world and stop being his light.

The thought of not seeing Danny every day killed him. No more nagging him to eat and drink. No more star gazing. No more TV marathons. No more being dragged to spontaneous trips to the crafts stores. No more hearing the insane conversations with his friends. No more waking up on the couch with a pair of blue-green eyes looking up at him. No more Danny.

Tim felt like his heart was stopping and his stomach dropped.

Danny hugged him back putting a soothing hand on the back of Tim's neck. It was cool to the touch.

"Of course, I'll stay." Danny laughed as if the very notion he'd leave was ridiculous.

Tim's brain seemed to twist in on itself as the cascade of emotions overflowed. That laugh seemed to play over and over in his head echoing non-stop. Warmth bloomed in his chest. Dread, uncertainty, hope, and affection all blended.

Oh no..

Tim was in love.

(This got way too long. I'm not really good a romance as you can tell but I'm trying. Anyway this is a Danny fell first but Tim fell harder situation.)

#dc x dp #dpxdc #dc x dp prompt #dp x dc prompt #danny fenton #tim x danny #red robin #tim drake #dead tired #brain dead #braindead #deadtired

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skzdarlings · 8 months ago

Text

harmony ; 3racha x reader ; one-shot

masterlist.

porn without plot. you want to have some fun and you know exactly which boyfriend can help get it started.

pairing: 3racha/reader content info: sub!reader, dom!changbin, dom!chan, switch!jisung, polyamorous mmfm foursome (so they’re all involved with each other and interact with each other), very enthusiastic consent with an implied red/yellow/green light system (yellow is employed once). some rough play (esp with changbin), cnc game that reader initiates, face-slapping, choking, dirty talk, pussy eating, double penetration, blow job, all three holes at once, multiple orgasms, jisung having a monster dick for no reason, aftercare. (technically no mention of birth control but it’s a long established relationship and you can safely assume it’s taken care of.)

word count: 5255 words.

enjoy <3

When you want to play – really play – you know where to go.

Jisung can be an overthinker and Chan is always protective, so they hesitate before getting too rough with you. Changbin, however, never holds back. You know how to touch him, how to smile that particularly provocative smile, how to bat your eyelashes and invite him to play.

You are thinking about it when he returns from his work-out, muscles straining in his black tank shirt, body damp with sweat, and looking like pure, unadulterated sex. Chan and Jisung are huddled around a laptop in the living room, their entrepreneurial endeavours a seemingly endless chore, and they are so engrossed in their work they don’t see you leave.

You sneak off to your room to change, ditching your shorts and underclothes, slipping into one of Changbin’s old t-shirts and absolutely nothing else.

You intend to hunt him down after his shower, but it’s Changbin who comes to you. He ambles casually into your bedroom without knocking, comfortable and relaxed and at home. You have your own rooms for personal space but you all come and go as you please.

Your room is dimly lit with strings of fairy lights, the bed crowded with pillows and teddy bears, not to mention a big strong boyfriend who makes himself at home. Changbin is dressed in sweatpants and a black t-shirt, his hair blow-dried soft and fluffy, but body as bulky and powerful as ever.

“Look at this,” he says, holding out his phone. A sweater you were eyeing has gone on sale so he sits on your bed and buys it for you without hesitation. He giggles to himself with all that self-satisfied delight, teasing that he is the best boyfriend and your number one favourite.

He knows the truest harmony lies among the four of you, together, always, but he likes to tease.

You like to tease back.

“Be careful, you big bully,” you say, because he plops himself down at the head of the bed, knocking a teddy bear over. You pick it up and aggressively shove it back into place.

He quirks an eyebrow, his giggling joviality replaced with a studious expression. He seems to finally notice what you are wearing, blinking his gaze up and down your body as you rearrange the pillows behind him.

You bat your eyelashes, all playful innocence.

“Don’t be so serious,” he says. He deliberately knocks a teddy onto the floor.

You playfully gasp, bending over with a flourish and flashing him.

“Ah,” he says, putting his phone on your bedside table. “It’s like that?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” you say, blinking.

“Hm,” he says, giving you another quick once-over. “Okay.”

Changbin hauls you over his shoulder and wrestles you onto the bed. He puts you on your back, upside down so your head is near the foot. He climbs right on top of you, not an inch of muscle budging even when you thud your fists against his firm chest.

“Binnie,” you say, wriggling underneath him, the t-shirt riding up your thighs. “You’re crushing me, you big mean brute.”

“Brute,” he says, laughing. He grabs your hips and pins you to the mattress. “Tsk. You like it like that.”

“No, I – ah!”

Changbin never hesitates. He knows you will tell him if you don’t like something. It’s a game of trust, full of an all encompassing love that boasts such tender affection beneath each action. Being with Changbin is like being nestled in blankets by a warm fire on a snowy winter’s day. You are sheltered in the storm, feeling that protection even more keenly because of the dangerous cold.

Between you, there is nothing but heat.

He gathers the hem of the t-shirt and shoves it up, past the skin of your tummy, exposing your thighs and all the bare softness between them. Oh, yes, all softness against his hard body, the thickness of his biceps as he holds you down, his big thighs shoved between your open legs, broad shoulders relentless and ungiving even where you smack him repeatedly.

“Binnie, be careful,” you say, trying to close your legs around his hips.

You gasp when he puts a hand up your shirt, squeezing your breast in the cup of his palm. His mean fingers immediately find the stiffening peak, thumb tormenting you while you whine.

You buck as if you want to throw him off, but he is right where you want him and he knows it. He knows you, your body like a well-loved instrument, his strong hands drawing every musical gasp and sigh out of you.

“Where’s your panties, hm?” he asks. Undeterred by your continuous bucking and writhing, he slides his hands down to your naked hips. He was slouched half-on top of you but he gets up on his knees now. He pushes your thighs apart, forcing his hips between them.

“Shameful,” he says. He tries to grab your flailing hands to no avail. You smack his chest and shoulders, dodging the reach of his fingers.

He smacks your face, a tap hard enough to register the game has really begun, but not so hard to sting for long. You still gasp, your hands pausing. It gives him time to work a hand between your open thighs.

“Ahh—!”

“Yah, look at you,” he says, rubbing his fingers through your wet pussy without finesse or gentleness. You twitch every time his knuckle rides over your clit. “Bad girl,” he says. “Who are you so wet for?”

He gives you no time to answer, scooting back to drag you to the middle of the bed. You are still upside down, your pillows and teddies piled behind him, all the dreaminess of your girly lace bedroom in contrast to his stark masculinity. It makes your whole body thrum with arousal, hot from the tips of your toes to the crown of your head. You feel him even where he is not touching you.

Where he is touching you, you burn, heart erratic with anticipation as he squeezes your thighs, as he shoves your hands out of his way, as he uses his thumbs to spread your pussy open to his gaze.

“Ah – Binnie—!” You get louder. Your bedroom door is open. Chan and Jisung might be focussed on their work, but not for long, not if you keep this up. Still, to speed things along, you scream, “Chan! Channie! Ch—hmmph!”

Changbin shoves a pillow in your face, holding it there, smothering you to soften your shrieks. His other hand is on your thigh – no, slipping higher, a surface touch through all that wet desire. Then his blunt fingers are inside you. You moan into the pillow, clenching around the thrust of his fingers. You get dizzy quickly, partially because of the pillow, partially his skilled hand.

He abruptly lifts the pillow. The oxygen goes straight to your head, as intoxicating as a kiss. You realize you are close to coming already, hiccupping with all that sudden breath as he fucks his fingers into you.

Changbin is relentless. You smack his chest but he ignores it, his strong arm keeping a steady momentum. An orgasm builds and builds, your fingers hooking into his t-shirt for some leverage. He puts a hand on your belly and holds you down. He feels so strong and heavy, utterly unmovable, and it makes falling apart so much easier.

“Didn’t you have something to say to Chan?” he says.

You gasp and turn your head. Sure enough, Chan is standing there, watching you. Changbin does it on purpose, knowing when you are close, so you look at Chan just as the orgasm crests.

Chan is standing beside the bed, dressed in his basketball shorts and a sleeveless black shirt, a baseball cap over his curly dark hair. He must have entered the room while the pillow was on your face, and now he is standing there, watching Changbin hold you down and fuck you with his hand.

“Channie, please—” you say, then you come all over Changbin’s fingers. You cry out because he keeps tormenting you, thumb shaking back-and-forth across your throbbing clit. “Ah, Binnie—Channie, please!”

Chan gives Changbin a look, his eyebrow quirked, then he just leans towards the open door and whistles. It’s a sharp, high whistle, a call to attention.

“Han,” he says, not even very loud. Chan never needs to shove or force or yell. When Chan says come, you come.

You always obey Chan. You throw your head back, gasping as you come a second time. It is so soon after the first orgasm that it feels like one long, rolling wave. It continues to shudder through you, even after Changbin slips his hand out.

The shirt is still shoved up your tummy, soft skin and wet pussy on display. Chan does not look away, reaching blindly behind himself for your desk chair. He yanks it closer to the bed and plops down, taking off his cap and tossing it on the floor. He is bare-faced, expression so open and honest, but a hunger in his eyes that darkens his whole face.

Changbin just looks giddy. You look at him as he giggles, that funny little chortle leaving that buff body. Then you realize he is rolling his sweatpants down.

“Channie!” you yelp, shrieking and twisting while Changbin licks his palm and strokes his cock, his other hand effortlessly holding you down.

Chan slouches in the chair. He props an elbow on the arm-rest and puts his chin in his palm. His other hand slips under the waistband of his shorts.

“Careful, baby,” Chan says, seconds before Changbin smacks you again. It is within your limit, but still enough to turn your head on impact.

Like before, it breaks your concentration, and Changbin takes the opportunity to grab your hips, line up, and shove his cock inside you. Chan and Jisung always give you a minute to adjust, the size of a hard cock definitely different from fingers, but Changbin never waits. Even while you wince and complain, he fucks you through it, gripping your hips hard and ignoring your hands pushing against his chest.

“Too much, Binnie,” you say, even though the sting is quickly passing. You’re so wet and it makes it easy for him to fuck you. It even sounds messy, every thrust opening you up, getting you even wetter, the bed creaking as he pulls you onto his cock over and over.

You look over at Chan who is still watching, the shape of his hand and his dick so clear through the material of his shorts as he fists his cock slowly.

You hiccup as Changbin switches from long, deep strokes to short, pounding ones.

At which point Jisung finally walks in, yapping about work, saying, “I was thinking we could postpone the meeting to Monday and—oh, hi, WHAAAT, we’re having sex in here? All right, man, okay, that’s cool, all right, what’s up.”

Oh, your sweet Jisung. He is also in house clothes, black shorts and a sleeveless white shirt, dark hair feathering through his fingers as he runs his hand through it. He walks further into the room, kicking the door closed behind himself for no reason. His attention is firmly fixed on you, holding your gaze while Changbin fucks you. The unmoving intensity of those big brown eyes leaves you tingling, a swoop in your belly that feels as thorough as a good fuck. It crashes into the feeling of Changbin inside you, makes your whole body get tight so Changbin groans and curses.

“Oh,” is all you can say. You cover your face with both hands, gasping when Changbin goes back to longer, deeper thrusts.

“Heyyy, baby, why are you hiding?” Jisung says in his sweetest voice.

You hear him approaching, even above the sound of you getting fucked, above Changbin’s little grunts, above Chan cursing. You feel the dip of the mattress when Jisung climbs up on the bed, sitting near your head. Then his hands are on your wrists, prying them away from your face. You try to wrestle them back but he holds them calmly, his own arms boasting a subtle musculature as he pins your hands to the mattress to stop you from moving.

“Yes,” Changbin says. “Like that. Come on.”

“Jisungie,” you whine, looking down at where Changbin is driving into you, feeling each thrust deeper than your pussy, all the way up to your throat. You tip your head back, looking at Jisung upside down.

He leans down, his hair swooping forward, tickling your face as he kisses your forehead and temple.

“It’s okay, baby,” he says. Despite his soft voice, he does not lighten his grip, your hands still locked in place. “Does it hurt?” he asks, wide-eyed.

“Mmm,” you say, nodding, even while shuddering with so much pleasure that a tear spills down your cheek.

“Aww,” he says, licking that tear track, making every nerve spasm. “You’re so cute, baby.”

“She gets tighter when you choke her,” Chan says.

“Awww,” Jisung says. He releases one hand to reach for you. He wraps his fingers delicately around your throat, not even squeezing at first, just a caress as his hand curls around you.

Your adrenaline naturally peaks, body clenching, just like Chan said. Changbin groans his satisfaction and Jisung tightens his grip, keeping you pinned by the throat while Changbin goes still, coming inside you.

“Fuck,” Chan says.

Jisung releases your throat and you suck in a shaky breath. It is interrupted when Jisung swoops in, kissing your lips upside down. You squirm under the confusing messiness of his open mouth at this angle.

He comes up with a breath, one as shaky as your own, ravished from a kiss. He runs his hand through his hair and nods to Changbin, saying, “Turn her around.”

Two pairs of hands find you, manhandling you so easily between them. You yelp, startled by the movement, as they lift you up and turn you around so your head is in Changbin’s lap and Jisung is now the one between your legs.

Changbin hoists you into his arms, holds you in the cradle of his bicep as Jisung lays down between your open legs.

This is one area that Jisung never hesitates to indulge, his open mouth descending on your pussy with ravenous excitement.

You are so, so sensitive down there, almost numb beneath the first few searching swipes.

He presses his whole mouth there, moaning as he sucks on your clit then licks up and down, back and forth, around and around. His tongue rubs where Changbin just came, circling your sensitive hole, pressing there then licking back up to your already throbbing clit.

“Can’t come again,” you say, not entirely sure if it comes out coherent because your eyes are closed and your brain feels fuzzy.

He answers with a hum. He does not seem to be eating you out with the intention of making you come, but purely for his own pleasure as he sucks and licks and tastes. Despite that – and despite your words – you feel a tightening in your belly, a dull throb that feels too feels too deep to reach.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” Changbin says when you start to writhe, his big arm wrapped around your neck, holding you tight to his beating heart.

The thud of that heart, the relentless flick of Jisung’s tongue, and Chan’s approving nod makes your thighs press around Jisung’s head.

“Oh—” is your last word before you come again, bucking hard against Jisung’s face. You gasp and cling to Changbin’s arm.

Jisung keeps licking at you, not relenting until your gasping whine is more of a scream. Then he kisses your thighs and hips before pushing himself up onto his knees.

He and Changbin wordlessly work together, sitting you upright to remove your only article of clothing. Both pairs of hands find you again, touching and groping and stimulating everywhere.

You shudder under all the sensation, eyes closing, rocking against nothing. You are desperate to close your legs to relieve the tension, but Jisung is kneeling between them. Fortunately, he knows you well, his hand sliding down there, fingers finding you, curling into you.

“You’re soo wet, baby, it’s embarrassing,” he says. “You need it that bad?”

He is still using his sweetest voice, like he doesn’t know he is about to utterly wreck your shit. Because Jisung always does without very much effort, simply by effect of having the biggest dick you have ever taken. It is part of the reason you usually can’t start with him, or why he takes his time when you do, because it is an aching endeavour whenever he tries to fit all that inside you.

Even the bulge in his shorts is obscene, the material rubbing against your thighs. He brings your hand to that bulge and groans when you squeeze it, saying, “That’s it, that’s it—”

He leans over you. It sounds like he and Changbin might be kissing above your head, sloppily at that. Jisung is probably shoving his tongue into Changbin’s mouth, the same tongue that was just inside you as it licked up the mess that Changbin made.

They press you between their bodies in an envelope of desire, utterly dominating your senses. Changbin smells like his shampoo, a deep scent like mahogany, while Jisung tends to douse himself in cologne, faded now at the end of the day but still a rich, expensive smell. Beneath all that is that simple sweat, bodies getting worked up, raw sex overwhelming all those other scents.

You breathe them in, whimpering because you are pressed so tightly between them. You can feel Jisung twitching in your hand and Changbin beginning to stiffen again at your backside.

There is a wet pop and a shared gasp when they stop kissing. Jisung grabs your face and pulls you up, his mouth hot when it claims yours, that stupidly talented mouth making you crazy.

“Hold her,” Jisung says, speaking against your lips while guiding Changbin’s hands. Jisung grabs your thighs and pushes them up, not quite folding you in half but almost there. He knows you need to be open to take him. Even then, you are already clenching, fluttering around nothing in anticipation.

Changbin holds your thighs back, hands pressed under the curve of your knee. Jisung hastily shoves his shorts down his thighs, leaving them gathered at the knee. He touches you and uses your desire to wet his dick, frantically jerking it as if it is not already intimidatingly hard and ready.

“Jisungie,” you say, already whining, wiping an embarrassing spot of drool as it spills over your bottom lip. Your body is so eager that it thunders out of control, clenching around nothing, and you can’t seem to stop it.

Jisung is so mean, just using his fingertip for a second, circling your fluttering hole. You try kicking him but your ankle manages little more than a flick, your legs trapped in Changbin’s hold.

“Sorry,” Jisung says, giggling and obviously unapologetic. He flicks your pouting bottom lip before finally putting the tip of his dick at your entrance.

The first little bit is always fine. It feels good to be full, your body needing him, pulling him in. He rocks back and forth a little, pushing an inch then another, and that’s when your body realizes how much there is, clenching and stretching and burning as he pushes in.

He goes slow, his whining mouth against your throat. But then Chan sits on the edge of the bed and touches his back. He bottoms out quickly and you squeak, eyes closed and breath coming fast.

You hear Chan say, “Take it off.” Confused, you blink your eyes open. Chan is talking to Jisung, tugging his shirt up his back.

Jisung groans but complies, tugging it over his head with one hand. The few seconds give you a precious moment to adjust, barely enough before he comes back and starts to fuck you with short, rolling thrusts. You think Chan is getting Jisung’s shorts out of the way given the jerky way Jisung moves on top of you, but then you are skin to skin with no obstruction.

“Mmph, yellow – legs,” you say, breaking only briefly to prevent a cramp in your thighs. Changbin is quick to smooth you out, helping reposition you more comfortably.

You sprawl flat on your back as Changbin moves away, wrapping your legs around Jisung’s waist without any hindrance. He holds himself above you, alternatively muttering expletives and cooing sweet nothings at you.

Changbin sits on one side, Chan the other, both fully clothed despite the obvious strain below their waistbands. It reminds you a little of the time Changbin topped Jisung while Chan fucked you, the pair of you kissing and touching between them the entire time.

Today is a little different. You are at the centre of it all, Jisung inside you, Chan’s hand on your chest and Changbin’s fingers circling your mouth. You take those fingers when prompted, sucking dutifully, batting your eyelashes up at him while he softly finger-fucks your mouth.

Chan’s fingers join him, touching your lip. You open your mouth wider and drool messily around the intrusion.

“Fuck,” Chan says. He rips his hand back in sudden needy haste. “Turn over,” he demands, smacking Jisung on the ass.

It makes Jisung yelp but he complies. With some help from Changbin, you roll over until Jisung is on his back and you are on top of him. Changbin kneels upright too, taking your face in his hands and kissing you, tongue penetrating your mouth as Jisung holds your hips and thrusts up into you.

Chan grabs the back of your neck, holding you in place while Changbin kisses you. Chan’s other hand runs down your front, tweaking a nipple and making you mewl into Changbin’s mouth. You are more panting than kissing by the time Chan’s fingers reach your pussy.

Jisung slows down just a little, out of breath and whimpering as you clench around him. This angle makes him feel stupidly deep, your eyes rolling back. He makes a few small, jerky movements, not even a deep thrust, and it still feels like he his hitting your heart.

Chan joins the kiss with Changbin. You are not even sure who is kissing you, just that it is one or the other, back and forth until you are dizzy. You know it is Chan’s fingers between your legs, the unmistakable pattern of his deft, familiar stroke making you spiral towards another orgasm.

“Oh, god, she’s – she’s—” Jisung says, squeezing your hips, going still for a minute to stop himself from coming when you do. He is breathing as hard as you.

You look down at Jisung, holding eye contact while you come hard on Chan’s fingers. Chan and Changbin are each sucking a bruise into either side of your neck.

“Fuck,” you say in a watery voice, thighs shaking, hands on Jisung’s abdomen as you lean forward.

“That’s it,” Chan says, kissing your throat sweetly while Changbin bites you meanly. Both of them swipe their tongue across the mark they leave behind. “Jisung,” Chan says, a demand without further explanation.

“Fuck, I know,” Jisung says, slowly moving his hips again.

It is so quick off your orgasm, it makes aftershocks move through your whole body. You are a livewire, making every ridiculous sound possible as Jisung fucks you, Changbin kisses you, and Chan gets up behind you.

Chan runs his hands down your sides, gently bending you forward until you are chest to chest with Jisung.

“Yup, just like that,” Chan says, rubbing the base of your spine then lower. His hands cup the curve of your ass, squeezing, tilting your hips just so. It gives him a good view of Jisung’s cock moving in and out of you, no doubt obscenely wet and messy, as well as exposing the smaller hole in your ass as he spreads you open.

“Changbin,” Chan says, still with that same confident assurance he will be obeyed no matter what, “Pass me the lube. Bedside drawer.”

As if you were not already sensitive enough, just hearing those words makes everything clench, which makes Jisung fuck you harder, which makes some place inside you that is so unbelievably soft and tender start to ache.

“Ah, that sound,” Changbin says when your moans turn to high-pitched whimpers. He pats the back of your head and reaches for the bedside table.

After a bit of rustling, he tosses the lube at Chan who catches it easily.

“One second,” Changbin says while Chan uncaps it. “She’s gonna come again. Big one, isn’t it, yes?”

The fact he knows before you do is a testament to how closely he watches you, how well he knows you. He is completely right, of course, as Jisung repeatedly pounds into some squishy, vulnerable part of you, so deep and so tender. You are not sure your clit would even respond if someone tried to touch it, but they don’t need to. It is enough that Jisung is hitting that place again and again.

You come with a scream, literally gushing around Jisung as you come. It takes everything in his willpower not to come, nonsensically begging Changbin to help so he doesn’t finish. Changbin just grabs him by the throat, much harder than Jisung grabbed you, making Jisung choke out a strangled gasp immediately. It works, though, as Jisung goes still but stays hard, letting you rock desperately on top of him as your orgasm seems to last ages.

When it finishes, you are completely boneless. You slump onto Jisung who takes a breath when Changbin lets go.

“All right,” Changbin says, smacking your ass. You hear him kiss Chan quickly. “Your turn.”

It is a good thing you feel so willowy; it makes it easy for Chan to open you up on his slick fingers. The few times you have done this, it always took forever, which was fun in its own way, but today it is so easy. He slides a finger right in, then another, hardly any obstruction as your body surrenders so completely to your boyfriends.

“You gonna take it okay, baby?” Jisung asks, his hands on your sides, holding you steady.

You look up at him, nodding, and open your mouth with a whine. He understands, lifting his head, meeting you in a messy, lazy kiss while he rocks slowly inside you. The kiss only breaks when Chan replaces his fingers with his cock, reigniting every spark in your over sensitized body.

“Ugh, god,” Jisung says, barely above a breath as he pants against your mouth. “He’s inside you, baby?”

You don’t answer because he can probably feel it when Chan is fully inside you. It takes a second for them to calibrate, find a rhythm that works. You are not sure if you are more impressed with yourself for taking it so easily this time, or impressed that Jisung has lasted this long and is still coherent enough to keep a steady rhythm.

“Changbin,” you say, his name a moan on your lips. You need to feel him too, his hand on your back not nearly enough.

“Go,” Chan says, groaning, your hips in his hands as he fucks you. “Oh, baby, you’re so good,” he says. “Isn’t our girl so good for us?”

Changbin and Jisung basically just grunt in reply, affirmative but irrevocably distracted.

Changbin kneels near your head, rubbing the back of your neck and gently guiding you to turn your face. Jisung swears when you open your mouth, a bit of spit drooling past his own lips as he watches you take Changbin’s cock past your lips. You mostly just lay there with your mouth open, letting him fuck it rather than really blowing him, but there are no complaints.

Chan squeezes your ass, a gentle knead that just makes you feel more open, stretched to your absolute limits, so full that you do not know how you will ever be happy without them all inside you.

It reinvigorates you. You find strength in your arm and use it to touch Changbin, fist circling where your mouth does not reach. You get him off first but Chan follows quickly, muttering things like you, tight, perfect, baby, baby, baby.

“Oh god,” Jisung says, somehow still holding out. When Chan slips out, it gives Jisung slightly more leverage. He pushes himself upright, letting you slump in his arms and cling to him while he fucks up into you with quick, desperate little uh-uh-uhs.

Finally, he comes, your name melting into a moan as he buries his face in your neck, mouth open where Changbin left his bitemark.

They surround you after that and you hum happily, letting them pass you from one pair of arms to the next. Jisung flops back, running his hands through his hair and catching his breath. Changbin is there with a cloth of some kind – you think it might be Jisung’s shirt, but Jisung is way past caring – and he gives you a quick and gentle wipe-down while kissing your sleepy brow.

“I should buy you sweaters more often,” Changbin says, giggling.

It makes you snort with laughter, blinking up at him with a grin. “Was gonna fuck you anyway, dummy,” you say.

“In that case, I’ll buy you another one right now.”

You giggle when he rubs his nose against yours in a cute little nose-kiss, eyes crinkling with an affectionate smile.

“Mm, c’mere, sleepy,” Chan says, rightfully as you are still mostly slumped in his arms. You manage to string an arm around his neck as he scoops you off the bed and holds you against his chest.

You are still a little dazed from so much sensation. You let your boys take care of you. After some quick inspection and care, you are plunked in a bath with Jisung to clean and decompress while the other two go strip and re-make the bed.

Jisung kisses your face while helping you wash, his careful hands and the hot water soothing every achy limb.

“Totally worth it,” you say, head under his chin, eyes closed and sighing contently.

Changbin comes to help you out. By then, you are bright-eyed, sore but in a way that makes you alive. You feel clean and fresh and loved, bundled up in a robe and then carried off in Changbin’s arms to the living room where food, a comfy couch, and Chan is waiting.

Jisung joins a moment later. The laptop is long since closed and utterly forgotten, the four of you snuggling up in a big blanket. Chan has an arm slung across the back of the couch, your head on his chest, Changbin’s arm around your middle, and Jisung half-asleep where heis slumped against Changbin.

“Round two?” Jisung asks then promptly yawns, making you laugh as Changbin playfully smacks him and Chan just sighs an amused sigh.

Taking the cue from Jisung’s yawn, you close your eyes and snuggle down.

“Love you,” you say, drifting off to each of them saying it back. You know one of them will carry you to bed eventually, so you let yourself drift into sleep, safe and warm, happiest when you are all together, just like this, the four of you always in perfect harmony.

#3racha x reader #3racha smut #bang chan x reader #bang chan smut #han jisung x reader #han jisung smut #seo changbin x reader #seo changbin smut #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids x you #skz x you #bang chan x you #seo changbin x you #han jisung x you

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asxgard · 12 days ago

Note

I wanted something where Abbott gets involved with a younger resident — maybe everyone in the ER knows about it, except the interns, since it’s their first day. Maybe the resident doesn’t like Trinity’s style, and Trinity goes to complain to Jack, but Jack defends his resident.

In Your Defense | one shot

Dr. Jack Abbot x f!resident!reader

Requested

Summary: After getting on your nerves all day, you and Santos finally go toe-to-toe over a patient. Jack comes to your defense.

[ My Masterlist ]

Note: I’ve been floating around ideas of my own of Jack with a resident👀so this was fun!

Sorry it took a bit! I got distracted with a few other things, and I wanted to make sure Companionship got out yesterday. Plus, this became a lot longer than I originally intended. I hope you like it @mayabbot !

Word Count: 2.7k

Most of my works are 18+ due to adult language and content.

Warnings: age gap, semi-established relationship, foul language, hospital setting, medical inaccuracies, mild Santos hate due difference in style, Pittfest

not beta read

The thing about Dr. Jack Abbot was, you did not need a label to know what you meant to him. There was no officiality of a title, even though you were both serious about each other — but frankly, the title was just a word. You knew where you stood, spending nights in his apartment and cooking breakfast together. He never hesitated to remind you that you belonged to him. Not in the overly possessive way, but in the silent always there type of way.

Jack had a past, and while you never pushed, he opened slowly. He had held you out of reach for some time before you realized what was truly brewing between you, and after he began to share, you thought the slow, quiet way you existed around each other was enough. He had loved and lost, he had fought and sacrificed, so you always assured him there was no rush. Not with you. You supposed there would be something to be said when you finished your residency, since that was a big priority in your life, but that was still a year away.

Like most things, your relationship with Jack did not stay secret for long in the halls of the Pitt. You really should have known better — Princess and Perlah were bloodhounds when it came to sniffing out things like that, and the bet did little to keep it private. You were unsure who had started it, but you were surprised that it was Robby who had walked away with the money. It felt like cheating, since he had insider knowledge after catching the two of you at a bar, but you never said anything.

Waking up in his bed alone was not uncommon — since after your dayshifts you sometimes would just wander to his apartment as opposed to your own. You would curl into his sheets and his smell, even when he would not be home all night. He never minded, and frankly even encouraged it. Working opposite shifts than him cut back on time you had together, but you knew it was only a matter of time before you were back on nights due to your flip-flopping schedule.

He looked worn down when you arrived at the Pitt for your shift, bright-eyed from a full night's rest in his bed. He followed you into the staff lounge so you could put your lunch away and he poured a bit of coffee to top off your thermos.

“Is it a ‘good morning’ type of morning, or a quiet ‘let me contemplate’ type of morning?”

He pursed his lips, “Neither. I lost a vet last night, spent two hours coding him.”

You sucked in a breath, knowing it had been a rough one for him. Those nights were far and few between, but never handled them very well. He was getting better, but oftentimes, he found himself on the roof.

“I’m sorry, Jack,” You said, knowing there was not much to say that would actually make it feel any better. “I made dinner last night, I left some leftovers in your fridge.”

He nodded, “At least we’ll have tonight and tomorrow together.”

You smiled, “I’m looking forward to it. Meet at yours?”

“Do you even have to ask?”

You chuckled, “Go get some rest, old man.”

An eyebrow rose in a challenge, “You won’t be saying that later.”

You smirked, “Counting on it.”

He gave you a rushed kiss on the lips, ensuring it was quick and private, before he was out the door. You sipped on your coffee and let out a long sigh, moving towards the charge desk and greeting Dana with a grin.

You let out a low whistle when you looked up at the board, “Damn, they got hammered last night.”

Frank Langdon stepped beside you to lean against the desk, “Why do I have a feeling you’re going to say the Q word? Don’t you dare, or I swear to god.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, “It was one time over a year ago. Who do I look like? Shen? I’m no longer an amatuer.”

“I’m so glad I don’t work with him much. He’s like a walking jinx at this point.”

“He’s not so bad.” You laughed, “I see we got some newbies.”

Langdon glanced over his shoulder, “Two med students, an intern and an R2.”

“Oh, fun.”

—

You learned all the new faces over the course of the next hour. You found you liked the med students well enough, and the R2, Melissa King, but the intern was beginning to rub you the wrong way. Calloused and indifferent did not mesh well in the chaos of the Pitt, or the team player attitude Robby always tried to instill in everyone.

Santos was the type of person you had vehemently disliked during your med student rotations, and after hearing a few cruel nicknames she had picked for Whitaker and Javadi, you brought it to Langdon’s attention. According to Jack, Langdon had walked into the Pitt with the same type of overconfident attitude, and Robby had taken him under his wing and straightened him out. Maybe you thought he would pass on the wisdom. Not to mention, it took the drama off your plate. You had enough worries keeping your relationship with Jack away from Gloria’s ears, and the last thing you wanted to do was get in the middle of something.

“Trust me, I hear you. She already ordered something without clearing it with me first.”

Your nose scrunched in annoyance, “We don’t need someone like that down here.”

“Maybe you could let her shadow you…” he said, a smile growing as your annoyance did. “Show her the ropes. You know, that whole no-nonsense but still empathetic thing you’ve got going on might be right up her alley. You’d be a wonderful teacher.”

You deadpanned, “You owe me. Like super, major—”

“You’re the best!”

You wished you had gone to Collins instead.

Try as you did, the brashness of Santos did not quell under your careful hand and you grew more frustrated with her poor bedside manner and knack for doing things before clearing them. Just when you stepped away to use the restroom, she ordered BPAP for one of your patients and nearly killed him. Yelling was not in your wheelhouse, nor was letting something like this get the better of you, but as the shift ticked on, your fuse grew shorter. Screaming would be the worst teaching tool, but she seemed to railroad over any and all of your advice.

You passed her off to Mohan to take an hour seeing your own patients without Santos’ shadow. At the end of the hour, Mohan only gave you a knowing glance before getting back to it. By the time you went to complain to Langdon, he had disappeared. Just a bit after that, Robby sent Collins home.

Taking a deep breath, you pep-talked yourself into holding it in until the end of your shift. Then you could pass the news on to Robby and go home to forget about it.

—

When the mass casualty event was called, you fiddled with your hands, rubbing anxious circles on one of your palms. The shift had beat you up and left you out to dry, and you knew you were not likely to get out on time. Anxiety thrummed through your system, or perhaps it was the anticipation

Jack’s face was a welcomed one and you wanted to thank whoever you could that he had showed up when he did, a mess of supplies from his truck. With both Robby and Jack at the head of this, you knew the team would get through it. One patient at a time.

Robby placed you in the pink zone, with instructions to float over to yellow if they needed help. Jack found you in the supply closet trying to grab what you could to prepare for the influx in your zone, and he seemed to read you like your shift had been written on your face.

The braindead boy who no one could help. The drowned little girl no one could have saved. Dana being punched by an angry patient, which set your teeth on edge. The anguished screams of grieving family members. Your frustration with the cocky intern. Langdon abandoning you. Collins going home early. The anticipation of all the blood and loss that was sure to be waiting for you as soon as the first cars arrived with the Pittfest victims.

He squeezed your hand, “Find me if you need anything. I got you.”

There it was, that silent, all-knowing ‘always here’ anchor you had needed given in just a few simple words and a giant gesture. You smiled at him and squeezed his back, exhausted and relieved all at once.

You kicked it into gear, getting to work in your zone. Trying to ignore the tragedy around you and just focus on the medicine was easier said than done, especially getting more and more covered in blood as the shift dragged on. It truly was a blur, except for the fact that each patient was clear as day in your head.

Intubating, assessing, applying pressure to wounds, checking on the status of the operating rooms for your more critical patients, forwarding a few to red. Rinse. Repeat. A never ending cycle of carnage.

Mel whizzed past you and you looked back down at your patient, checking his pulse points. He was as stable as he was going to get, and you waved McKay over to him so you could run by yellow zone to see if they needed anything.

Whitaker’s wide eyes greeted you, “She’s doing a REBOA.”

You stopped dead, “What? Who?”

His eyes looked over to Santos, who was leaning over a patient. All the blood rushed from your head, anger and fear tangling together.

Mel was beside you then, tapping her fingers together in an anxious fashion, “I told her—I tried—“

You swallowed before rushing forward. She had already inserted the balloon, and there was not much you could do. You had only done one before, during a mass pile up over a year before, but it was under Jack’s careful supervision.

“Are you insane?” You hissed low, trying not to cause a scene.

Santos only glanced at you, “Patient was bleeding out, need to—“

“No, no, no, no.” Something snapped and all the frustration you had been feeling all day came barreling out of you. “What you need to do, Dr. Santos, is clear shit like this with your senior resident. With an attending. Literally anyone else. Mel already told you no and what do you do? This is how people die. Doctors feeding their own fucking egos and not letting themselves be checked.”

She simply stared at you, “It’s already—“

“No, this was rash.” You glanced down at the patient, seeing that the balloon was likely already in place, but from Donnie’s grim features, the patient was not doing much better. “If it worked? Amazing, great. You saved a patient. But if you keep doing this shit, someone is going to die. You’re not as infallible as you seem to think you are.”

You felt him before you saw him, a once calming presence now beside you and it made all your hairs stand on end. Like you had been caught with your hand in the cookie jar.

At the hospital, he was your attending, you were the resident and you definitely should not have lost your cool like that in the middle of the shitstorm that was already occurring. You physically braced yourself, steeling your composure and trying not to wince. Jack did not scold in public, but you had made a scene.

Jack’s attention had been pulled away from his patient at a particular voice carrying through the air, growing louder as it continued. Your voice. Unmistakable and in the chaos, completely unnerving. It was not like you to shout, or yell, especially in the mess the Pitt had found itself in. He was walking towards your voice without even thinking about it, gait rushed but not running.

“She performed a REBOA.” Mel told Jack as he approached, eyeing each of you warily. “I told her not to.” She gestured to you. “She told her not to.”

You felt Jack’s eyes on your face, and you glanced over to him. He took in your features and looked back to Santos.

“A REBOA? Are you shitting me?”

“Dr. Abbot, I couldn’t get any of the attendings and the patient was bleeding out. No other options.” Santos told him, looking at you again. “I don’t think her yelling about it, or at me right now is exactly—“

“She is a resident and you are an intern. You never should have done that on your own, ever.”

You blinked, half surprised, half thankful. You never wanted your relationship with him to bleed into the professional act you two played whenever you were in the hospital. You never wanted him to play favorites or defend you when you didn’t deserve it. But a part of you relished in him supporting you. Especially after dealing with her going over your head your entire shift.

Two nightshift nurses — Alma and Riley — and Donnie exchanged knowing glances, hiding their smirks well, while Santos just stood there. Jack looked back to you and raised an eyebrow, asking if you were okay without any words.

You gave him the tiniest of nods, likely not to be seen as anything more than a twitch, but Jack caught it easily. You were okay, for the most part anyway. You could talk to him about all of it later. You hoped this could all be behind you soon, as mild embarrassment for yelling in the ED crept up your cheeks. You would pass along the information to Robby and let him handle it. He would be likely to scold you for losing your cool and yelling like he had earlier with Langdon, who was now back floating through zones with little explanation as to why he had left.

Santos looked between you two like she was trying to read you.

Jack had his focus back on the patient, asking Donnie for her vitals.

“Carotid’s weak. Radial’s barely there.” Donnie said.

“Another three cc’s in the balloon.” Jack advised and Santos followed the instruction.

Whitaker looked up, “Radial’s much stronger now.”

“Lock the balloon. Check the wound.”

“Wound’s dry, barely a trickle.”

“That’s because there’s no blood going to her legs.” Mel whispered from beside you.

“Get IR and Vascular on the case.”

The patient began coming to, opening her eyes and looking around her tiredly. There was a relief in the sight, but the fact that this would only make Santos more bold in the future made you worry.

Jack leaned in close to Santos, “That was reckless and could have killed the patient. You need to follow the chain of command here.”

Santos gave a tense nod, her tiny smile disappearing.

You stepped away when Jack did, finding a few moments when you pulled off your gown to replace it with a fresh one. He stepped behind you to tie it while you reached for new gloves.

“It’s been a shift.” You explained simply, not even needing him to open his mouth. “I don’t know what came over me. I’m sorry.”

“We can talk about it later.”

You turned to face him, “No, if you’re going to scold me, I’d rather you do it now. Get it out of the way.”

He studied your face. “Can’t change anything now. She did save the patient, but she could've just as easily made it worse. And you lost it for a minute. You know as well as anyone that yelling achieves nothing.”

You cringed, remembering your med school days.

“But you weren’t wrong.” He added, grabbing your arm and forcing you to look at him. “She took an unnecessary risk and hopefully next time, will try to find an attending, or a resident. I’ll mention it to Robby, maybe he can help her get back on track. The Pitt doesn’t need any more egos, I think we’re at capacity.”

A small smirk broke through on your lips, “Thank you.”

“You feel good enough to get back to it?” He raised a careful eyebrow.

You took a breath and nodded. You parted without ceremony, heading back to your respective zones and got lost in the work.

want to join any of my taglists? shoot me a message!

Dr. Abbot taglist: @flyinglama @valhallavalkyrie9 @melancholyy-hill @travelingmypassion @yournerdmodziata @dark-twisted-and-mechanical-mind @sarah-the-bird-nerd @artsymaddie @partofthelouniverse

The Pitt taglist: @cannonindeez @spoiledflor @kittenhawkk @nessamc @thatchickwiththecamera @sharkluver @loud-mouph @ksyn-faith @sunfairyy @dragonsondragons @mischiefsemimanaged

Did my own feelings about Santos bleed into this? …maybe. She grew on me, but oh my god she really was getting on my last nerve for most of this season. I hope season 2 comes with some growth from her.

#the pitt #jack abbott #jack abbot #jack abbot x reader #jack abbott x reader #jack abbot fanfic #jack abbot x you #the pitt x reader #asxgard writes

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brattyspence · 5 months ago

Text

sober thoughts | s.reid

summary: pining!reader makes a drunk call to spencer after going out with friends, and is aggressively trying to flirt with him.

tags: reader is DRUNK! alcohol!! dont read if thats not okay!!, fluffy as fuck, spencer is the most gentle of gentlemen, pining!reader, reader wears makeup/dress/heels, spencer is lowkey bad at flirting but he shows affection in weird ways, one use of Y/N (sorry i know)

a/n: this has been bouncing around in my head for a while. sigh.

word count: 1.9k

masterlist

He was used to seeing you tipsy, if that was even the right word for it.

You were friends, after all. Best friends, even. And the fact that he lived only a few doors down from the pub the team frequented made it stupid not to offer his couch to you after going out with the team.

You weren’t a heavy drinker by any stretch of the imagination. Every now and then on a Friday night, you’d head out with the team and have one, maybe two drinks if you were feeling particularly adventurous–but you still didn’t want to drive home, especially when he was offering his home to you. Truthfully, you just liked getting to hang out with him. You liked getting to exist in his orbit and discuss a random topic late into the night. It had become normal for you, an excuse to do something together that didn’t revolve around work.

What was not normal was the fact that it was a Saturday at 11 PM and you were really drunk, calling him.

Your contact photo filled his screen, illuminating the dark room. You weren’t one to call, preferring the convenience of a text. Especially this late, which worried him a bit. He picked up quickly, tucking the phone to his ear.

“Hey, you okay?”

“Hey, Spencer?” It wasn’t your voice. “This is Molly, Y/N’s friend. I’m sorry to call so late. We’re out with some friends from college celebrating someone’s birthday, and she got… like, drunk drunk, kinda sloppy… and she’s been blabbing about you for a while. She wanted me to call you.”

“Oh,” he sighs. He runs a hand through his hair, preparing himself. “Can you put her on?”

“Yeah. Not sure you’ll get anything out of her, though. Here…”

He can hear the general chatter and chaos of the bar over the call. There’s some rustling sounds before you finally take the phone.

“Hi,” you say, your voice dripping with a certain kind of fondness. He can hear the smile through the screen.

“Hey,” he replies. ”You having fun?”

“Oh, Spencer, I was… I haven’t heard your voice in so long. What’re you…” you trail off, lifting the phone from your ear to answer someone else. “Sorry. ‘S so loud in here.

He chuckles to himself. “I saw you yesterday.”

“Yeah, ‘nd that was… Oh, I can’t do math right now. A long time ago.”

“Are you okay?”

On the other side of town, you were sitting in a barstool, swiping your finger along the beads of condensation rolling down the glass of water in front of you.

“Mhm. ‘M good. Fine. Drunk.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” he smiles. “Are you gonna be able to get home?”

“Uhh…” you pause. “I was gonna Uber… but then I thought that maybe… if you weren't busy… we could hang out…”

He could vaguely make out dialog on the other end of the phone. Some kind of “Girl, this sounds really pathetic,” followed by a “Shhhh!” in two other drunken voices.

“But I could also make Molly order me an Uber,” you added. “‘S okay. Nevermind.”

“No, you're not getting in an Uber inebriated. That’s ridiculous.”

“‘M not inebriated.”

A background voice comes back. “Yeah, you are.”

Spencer sighs into the phone. “Just… send me your location, please? I’ll come get you.”

“O-kay. ‘M sending it right now, jus’ tell me when you-”

The call went dead before you could finish your thought, which he chalked up to some kind of drunken user error. A few seconds later a text came through

You: dropped a pin

You: its molly again. let me know if you got this

He responded, relieved that you had someone looking after you, before getting ready and grabbing his keys.

You were sitting on a bench outside the bar. The air was cool and crisp, but you were warm, your skin clammy from the alcohol. You had been mumbling something incoherent about Spencer, he’s just so good to me, Molly, and oh, god, I don’t know what to do with myself, and…

Molly, who had been trying to sober you up (unsuccessfully), was standing in front of you, arms crossed, listening to your incessant rambling.

“...’nd sometimes he talks to me, ‘nd I have no idea what he’s talking about but he’s so hot when he’s smart. You should hear, it, Mol’.”

Cars pass on the street behind you, filling the silence momentarily. Molly looks over her shoulder, scanning the street before turning back to you. “Alright. Be quiet. He’s here”

“Don’t care.”

She puts her hand out to help you up, which you accept rising to your feet. You’re surprised by how unsteady you feel, but you focus on putting one foot in front of the other.

“I’ll make fun of you for this tomorrow,” she says.

You only have a few seconds to grumble in protest before Spencer reaches you. He scans you quickly, chuckling to himself.

“You are a mess,” he says, amused.

You feel slightly infantilized watching Molly hand over all your personal effects to him. You weren’t even sure when you’d put down your wallet and keys, much less where, but you’re thankful she picked them up and not someone else.

“Good luck,” She tells him. She pats your arm before turning back to the bar, leaving you alone on the street with him.

“You okay?” He asks. You watch him shuck off his jacket, which he helps you slide over your arms.

“‘M fine,” you reply. “Warm.”

“Because you’re drunk.” He keeps his eyes trained on the zipper of the jacket, or really anywhere that isn't you in that dress. “Alcohol is a vasodilator. So you feel warm. But it's forty degrees outside, and hypothermia doesn't care.”

You pout at him, watching as he pulls the zipper tab up enough to shield you from the cold. Only then does he really look at you.

“I wanted you to see my pretty dress,” you pout. Your words come out slurred still.

You meet his eyes for a split second. He opens his mouth, seemingly about to reply, but quickly decides against it. He shakes his head as if to clear the thought.

“Come on. We gotta get you home.”

“You don't like it?”

“I didn't say that.” He tucks a hand under your arm as you begin back down the street, keeping you steady.

“So you do like it?” You look over at him, your face more excited than he was expecting.

“It’s very pretty,” he replies.

Your shoulder bumps his as you walk, seemingly unable to maintain a straight path along the sidewalk. The click of your heels against the pavement is uneven, despite your efforts to maintain some kind of composure, and unfortunately for you, he’s right, and it's freezing outside. You make steady progress down the block, placing all your focus on not falling flat on your face. Thankfully, he doesn't live all that far.

“D’you think I look pretty, too?” You ask, approaching the steps to his apartment.

“What are you trying to do?” he asks, looking down at you. He takes in the slight flush of your cheeks as the effects of the alcohol battle the chill in the air.

“I’m trying to flirt with you. And you didn’t answer my question.”

“Oh, you're going to be difficult all night, aren't you?” He sighs, ignoring the question. He pauses outside the door, keys in hand, and unlocks the door before guiding you inside.

“You don't ever want to flirt with me.”

The door falls shut behind you with a clunk. The room is dark, with only the distant light from a lamp somewhere across the room illuminating it. You squint when he turns on the big light.

“That’s not true,” he says, quietly. If you weren’t hanging on to his every word, you might have missed it. He carefully unzips the jacket, tugging it off your shoulders and setting it on the table.

“So why won’t you flirt with me right now?”

“Because you’re drunk,” He guides you towards the couch, his touch still careful as ever.

You flop down onto the cushions. The leather sticks to your legs as you sit. Being the gentleman he is, he has already left pajamas out, his pajamas, you’d since claimed as your own, with the blanket you steal every time you stay over.

“So what?” You begin working at the clasp on your heels, fumbling with the leather straps to no avail.

“So, you’re drunk.” He repeats, reappearing in front of you. He sits on the edge of the coffee table in front of you, and hands you a pack of makeup wipes. “Do you need help with your shoes?”

You nod. A soft breath of laughter escapes him as he leans in to help you take them off, setting them on the carpeted floor.

“Spence,” you look at the pack of wipes. “Why do you have these?”

“Because every time you’re here you forget them,” he replies.

“Oh.” You rip them open. “You don’t have a secret girlfriend?”

“No,” he replies, lowering your foot back to the ground.

“You don't let other drunk girls sleep over?” You paw at your eyeliner, effectively smearing it around more than removing it.

“I don't let anyone sleep over,” he says, taking the wipe from you. “Just you. Close your eyes.”

“Because you love me?”

His fingers find the underside of your chin, gently tilting your face towards his so he can finish swiping away the last of your eyeliner. Maybe you’re blushing as a result of the alcohol warming your bloodstream, but the more likely answer is him, at this proximity.

As soon as he’s done wiping your eyes, you open them again to look up at him.

“You’re bold when you’re drunk,” he says, smiling. He sets the used wipe down on the table.

“Mhm. You didn’t answer my question.”

“I’m not going to,” He says. “Sorry. Go get changed.”

“That wasn’t a ‘no’,” you say. You collect the clothes off the couch and slink across the apartment into the bathroom to change. You don’t bother shutting the bathroom door before slinking off the dress you were wearing and sliding on the pajamas he’d left for you. Once you finish, you collect your dress off the floor and make your way back towards the couch, settling right into the cushions as you frequently did on nights like this.

You were formulating another complaint about his lack of reciprocation, but your thoughts were interrupted as he pulled the blanket on his couch over you. Your blanket, or at least one you’d claimed as your own during one of your nights spent here. He had already turned off the ceiling fan, which you’d always insisted off when you slept over. You followed him with your gaze as he turned the lights off, swapping them instead for a smaller, softer light somewhere in the kitchen, remembering the way you’d always insisted he leave a light on somewhere, just for you. Your phone was already charging on a side table, your heels sitting nicely by the door, your keys on his key holder, evidence of you, everywhere, details that were distinctly for your comfort. Maybe you had missed his signals.

“I think you do love me…”

He reappeared a moment later, crouching in front of you with that look. He rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “Go to sleep.”

“And I love you. And I called you because I wanted to tell you that.”

“You really need to sleep it off. You’re saying things you don’t mean.”

“But I do mean it,” you whined. “I swear. Ask me again tomorrow.”

“You won’t remember this tomorrow,” he laughed.

“But I will. I promise,” you replied. “No bedtime kiss?”

Of course, this time you did pick up the way he looked at you.

“No, honey. Maybe tomorrow.”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #fluff #spencer reid fluff #my things!

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loafysainz · 3 months ago

Text

DONT GO DADDY | LN 4

lando norris!dad x reader!mom

no warn

hope you guys enjoy it!!

Lando had two more days at home before he had to leave for the next race weekend. Two days before he’d have to pack his bags, say goodbye, and be away for who-knows-how-long.

The thing is—his kids didn’t even know that yet.

Noah and Leo, his little shadows, had been extra clingy lately. Usually, Leo was glued to their mom, a total mama’s boy, while Noah was more independent. But this past week? The two of them were stuck to Lando like glue. If he so much as stepped out of the room, one (or both) would come running, calling out for him like he was about to disappear forever.

Like right now.

Lando was just sorting through some stuff in the living room when he suddenly felt two tiny pairs of arms wrap around his legs. He glanced down, finding Noah and Leo latched onto him, looking up with teary eyes.

“What’s up, little dudes?” he teased, ruffling Noah’s curls while patting Leo’s head. “Why are you guys crying, huh?”

Noah sniffled. “Daddy… hug.”

Leo nodded aggressively, arms still wrapped tight around Lando’s leg. “Want hug, Daddy.”

Lando crouched down, opening his arms. “Ohhh, you want me to hug you? Come here then.”

And just like that, his two little monsters launched themselves into his chest, squeezing him like their lives depended on it. Lando chuckled, lifting them both up in his arms.

“What’s gotten into you two, huh? You’ve been extra cuddly this week.”

Noah pouted, gripping Lando’s hoodie. “Don’t go.”

Lando blinked. “Go where?”

Leo’s lips wobbled. “Work.”

Noah, never one to be left out, “Yeah! We miss you when you go!”

Ah. They didn’t know he was leaving in two days, but somehow, they felt it.

And just like that, Lando’s heart completely melted. He sighed, rubbing their backs as they both continued to sniffle into his hoodie.

“Daddy’s right here, baby,” he murmured, rocking them gently. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“But later you go work again.” Noah mumbled, his little fingers fisting Lando’s hoodies like he was scared he’d disappear right then and there.

Lando exhaled, tilting his head back for a second before pressing a kiss to both their foreheads. “You know why Daddy goes to work, right?”

They both shook their heads, big eyes still filled with tears.

“I go so I can make money,” he explained gently. “And you know what money gets us?”

Noah thought about it for a second. “Ice cream?”

Lando chuckled. “Yes, and toys. And our house. And everything we need. If I don’t go, then we don’t get those things.”

Leo sniffled. “But I just want you.”

Lando swore his heart physically hurt. He pulled them both in even tighter. “I know, buddy. And I want to be here too. But I promise, I’ll always come back. And when I do, we’ll have fun as much as you want, okay?”

After a few more minutes of calming them down, their little bodies finally relaxed against him. The house was quiet except for their soft breathing, and Lando realized they had completely passed out on him—Leo using his arm as a pillow, and Noah curled up into his side.

That was exactly how his wife—y/n found them when she walked in.

She paused in the doorway, eyes widening at the rare moment of silence. Usually, their house was a warzone of giggles and chaos, but right now? It was peaceful. Too peaceful.

She tiptoed closer, peeking into the family room, and immediately felt her heart melt. There they were—her three favorite people, all tangled up on the couch, fast asleep.

Lando had one arm draped protectively over both boys, his head resting against the back of the couch. Noah was tucked under his chin, while Leo had somehow managed to shove himself into Lando’s side, one tiny hand gripping his hoodie even in sleep.

She smiled to herself, shaking her head fondly.

Yeah. She was definitely taking a picture of this.

#f1 fanfiction #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 fluff #f1 x reader #lando norris x reader #lando x you #lando norris #lando x reader #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fic #lando norris fluff

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valleydoli · 4 days ago

Text

𝜗𝜚 Only you 𝜗𝜚

Cw 𝜗𝜚 MDNI, Stalking, Obsessiveness, Controlling Behaviour, Love Bombing, Murder, Fluff, Kidnapping, Smut, Toxic Sukuna, Yandere Sukuna? Readers a sweetie, (Touch her you die… like actually…)

𝜗𝜚 Series Masterlist…

𝜗𝜚 Chapter One…

𝜗𝜚 WC: 1.5k

Oh…

Who is she?

Sukuna knows faces. He knows everyone’s face. But you? He has never seen you before. How? How could he miss such a beautiful, darling thing like you. You’re perfect. The way you’re holding your book perfect. The way you just crossed your leg across the other? Perfect. He needs to know you. He needs to hold you. He needs you. He needs to get out of his head and go up to you.

You’ve already infested his mind, you're like a parasite, infesting every inch of his body. His brain, his heart, his soul, everything. You’re infecting him. Why? Who are you and What's your deal?

~~~

It’s finally transitioning from the wintertime to springtime. Usually you adore the winter since it’s the season your birthday falls, but spring always has a special place in your heart. the flowers, the freshly cut grass, the shining sun that isn’t too hot. Everything is perfect for you during these months.

It’s a Saturday, and you’ve been meaning to go out and actually enjoy the spring sun. The weekends aren’t long enough for you. There’s so much more you’ve been meaning to do but there’s not enough time, there’s never enough time. Juggling your school work and teaching, you’re exhausted. You need to treat yourself to something, at least a day in the sun, drawing or reading, anything to calm you down from your hectic days.

Maybe a walk in the park will suffice, there’s a book you’ve been meaning to read but of course you haven’t had the time to actually sit down and enjoy it.

~~~

You start to make your way to the park by your apartment complex.

The cool breeze tickling your soft skin as you make your way to the park

When you arrive at the park, you take a seat on a wooden bench that that views the entire park and begin to be invested in nothing but your book.

You suddenly feel the warmth of the sun disappear but you're sure the weather app said clear skies, but it’s not clouds covering the sun it’s a man, a tall, handsome man. He's staring at you intensely, with beautiful salmon pink hair, deep maroon eyes and a birthmark covering the right side of his striking face. You’re in awe.

“Hi there… You’re kind of blocking the sun.” You laugh as you look up at the man before you, and oh how perfect that laugh is, paired with your pearly white teeth. Is there anything about you that isn’t amazing? Maybe you’re an angel sent from heaven, just for Sukuna. No one else but him.

“I'm sorry, I just— what’re you reading? You seem really invested in whatever it is,” he questions.

“Oh, it’s about a couple who can’t seem to get past how obsessive the boyfriend is. I'm not too far along but I'm excited! I'm into obsessive guys, well I think I am. I've never… dated anyone before.”

You’re an over sharer, you just met him and you’re already telling him your type. Are you interested in him too? He should ask you out or is that too forward? No. he can’t let you slip away. ask her.

“You’ve never dated before? no boyfriend, ever?”

You shake your head confirming that no, you’ve never had a boyfriend.

Perfect. Sukuna thinks to himself, you’ve never been touched. You’re not… tainted. Or are you? Have you had your first kiss? You could have slept with a guy for fun. No, you don’t seem like the type. You’re a lover girl, you want to be loved. Oh, Sukuna can give you that, all of that.

Sukuna charmingly smiles at you, “would you like to go out sometime? To a restaurant, a walk in the park, whatever you want, my treat.”

It’s almost as if your eyes sparkle after he asks you.

He’s made you feel this way. He's made you… happy.

You stutter out frantically, “yes! i— sorry. y-yes, i’d love to.”

Why are you stuttering? Is he making you feel nervous?

“Can I get your number?”

You hum in agreement and begin to pull out your phone from your bag. It’s an organised bag everything is right where it needs to be. Is your house organised? Probably. If it’s not he’ll be there to help you out.

You both swap phones, putting in each other's names and numbers.

He has your number.

He has your name.

He snaps out of his trance when he hears you say his name,

“Sukuna…”

Perfect

“I love your name, I've never heard of it before.”

“Not many people would name their kids, Sukuna… that’s why you’ve never heard of it.”

Sukunas parents hated him. I mean he had to have hated him. His name means “two faced” while his twin brother's name means, “kindness,” “benevolence.” They clearly fucking hate him. When he has kids with you, he’ll never treat his kid the way he was treated…

Kids…

With you…

Yeah… twins… two boys— no, two girls. yeah…

“Um Sukuna?” He hears you say. “I need to go, I have some work I need to get done, but text me! obviously. I'm excited to see you again!” You smile, as you stand up from the bench ready to depart.

“I could walk you home? Do you live far?”

“Oh no, I live just over there, the tall complex!”

Oh angel, don't tell strangers where you live… You live… surprisingly close to him actually. The stars are quite frankly aligning. The universe is routing for you two to be together can’t you see?

“That’s funny, I live just round the corner from there. It’s crazy we’ve never crossed paths before.”

Seriously, how the fuck has he never seen you before. Did you just move here?

“No, I’ve lived here for quite a while now,” you answer back.

Did he say that out loud?

“Well I hope I get to see you more often. It’s almost as if you’ve been hiding from me,” Sukuna jokes.

(He’s not joking.)

“No, I’d never! I love meeting new people, I’m just as shocked as you. But we’ve met now, so we can get to know each other more, okay?” You practically sing. You’re so perky and he’s so grumpy, (according to his family and few ‘friends.’) But who wouldn’t be, this world is shit, but with you by his side I’m sure he’d be just a perky and happy as you.

“Yeah, we’ll definitely get to know each other more.”

~~~

The moment Sukuna stepped foot in his apartment he was searching for you. Instagram, Facebook, Twitter, Anything. He can’t find you. Why the fuck cant he find you.

Think, Sukuna.

Think!

Does the book your reading have an Instagram page? Maybe you follow them…

Jackpot.

He mutters your name…

Your page is public, you’re 22, a university student and you’re a teacher… a preschool teacher… is that his nephew's preschool?! You're a teacher at Yuji’s Fucking school. The amount of times Jin asked Sukuna to pick him up from school. He could have met you… he could have had you all ready.

Stupid.

He’s so fucking stupid.

Sukuna is frantic at this point. How could he be blindsided by this. How the fuck did you hide in plain site. Right under his nose…

He needs to know more.

Toji.

Call Toji.

Sukuna and Toji are… friends. Well, Toji thinks they’re friends, but Sukuna just sees him as a co-worker he speaks to… regularly…

“Toji,” he practically yells into the phone.

“What?” He mumbles

“I need you to do some research on someone.”

He tells Toji your name

“A girl? What’d she do to you,” Toji inquires with a mouthful of food.

Oh my god

“Toji, she’s done nothing, I just want information on her. Can you do that without bombarding me with fucking questions?”

“Damn, okay, I’ll let you know what I find.”

“Great,” Sukuna mutters as he ends the call.

He continues to stalk your social media, your tagged posted with your friends through the evening, but it’s not enough he needs more, he needs Toji to hurry the fuck up, that’s what he needs right now.

Wait. Jin. He could pick Yuji up from his nursery on Monday.

Jackpot!

Sukuna hears his phone ping. Tojis found information about you already?

No.

It’s you. You messaged him. And here he is smiling to himself like a complete and utter fool, what are you doing to him?

‘Hi, Sukuna, it's me! Girl from the park…’

“Girl from the park…” you’re so precious.

‘Hi Angel, I was going to message you first but you beat me to it’

Obviously you beat him to it. He's been too busy stalking you for the past hours.

‘I’m quite busy during the weekdays with school and work, but I’d love to see you next Saturday, if you’re free? :3’

Oh angel, he’ll make sure he’s free for you, but you’re going to see him way sooner than that.

‘I’m free, I already know where I want to take you.’

‘Oh perfect I can’t wait!’

‘Neither can I’

No, Sukuna would lose it if he had to wait until Saturday to see you again, but lucky for him, he has a cute nephew that happens to be at your place of work.

‘Jin, I’m picking up Yuji from preschool next week.’

𝜗𝜚 Chapter Two…

a/n: so… what’re we thinking chat? i’m pretty proud of this for my not first but new to writing!! i’ve started on chapter two! but hopefully i can keep it up 😔🤞🏾

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #sukuna smut #sukuna #jjk #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna #yandere sukuna #sukuna ryomen x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader #modern sukuna #ryomen sukuna x you #daddy sukuna

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timmydraker · 5 months ago

Text

Tim calls a family meeting and everyone is assuming he’s got a big case he needs help with, which is alarming for someone who refuses to admit that some cases are beyond him.

So, everyone shows up at the cave only to be ordered upstairs by Alfred. For those who only showed up to make fun of Tim for needing help, this is confusing because case work ain’t allowed upstairs.

All do them figure out quickly that this means it’s not to do with Gotham or Ref Robin, but the man behind the mask.

Bruce and Dick were there first and because Damian is always with one of them, so is he.

Steph picks up Barbara and Cass, with Duke already at home and Jason showing up at the same time as Kate and Lucius.

When they all get into the lounge room used for when people are over, just two doors down from the actual family room, they all find themselves chatting casually as they stave off their own worries or confusion. Some of them try find out if anyone knows what’s going on, but when Alfred and Barbara reveal they have no idea, they give up and make a few guesses but no more.

When Tim finally comes in after Alfred received him, he looks tired.

It’s not usual for Tim to get distracted with work and not sleep for a while, but he will conk out for hours when he decides to and wake up alright.

The bags under his eyes, the redness within them, and the way he looks close to tucking himself into a ball…

Bruce is immediately leaning forward, opening his mouth to make sure his son is okay but Tim just raised a hand to silence him. “Just… just let me speak, okay? I need to do it now or I’m not going to be able to.”

Everyone gives him a nod or look of understanding, making him twitch a smile before inhaling deeply and psyching himself up.

“I have cancer.”

…

Nobody speaks as Tim exhales shakily.

Everyone is staring wide eyed at the young man before them, who just reached the legal drinking age, and trying to asses his physical form for an understanding of what he just said. They’re all trying to gain X-ray vision to see exactly what is hurting him all while trying to convince themselves they heard him wrong.

Tim closes his eyes and speaks automatically, leaning into facts like he always does when he’s freaking out, “I noticed I was getting by more tired and fatigued around last year. My doctor said I have a low white cell count but he wasn’t alarmed as it was still in the normal range. But a few months ago I started to note that bruises were taking far too long to heal and I was getting a lot of pain around my joints and bones.”

He inhaled again, shakier than before at the same time that Alfred sits himself down with a hand over his mouth.

“It’s stage 2 and because of my lack of a spleen it’s going to be a harder process for treatment but fortunately I own a medical company so there’s that at least.” He makes a sort of joking smile that falters immediately, falling into a pulled back frown that comes with someone whose about to sob as he adds, “But it’s also aggressive so I-I don’t know how-how to-fuck-“

Dick and Cass are immediately moving off the couches they are on and catch him as he finally crumbles into himself.

Bruce is next to follow, the stoic man openly crying for the first time in years.

Jason and Damian are in shock, both frozen in place as dread takes over their minds.

Steph is looking out the window, as if staring at some kind of his or deity and demanding an expiration as to why they have to hurt her loved ones so badly. She’s crying, but it’s silent which is all the more harrowing.

Lucius places a hand on Alfred’s shoulder to comfort the elder even as he himself itches to go comfort the young boy who helped him run the company when he was at his worst.

Kate leaves the room to go call Bette, needing her mentor because this is just something she can’t handle.

Duke is sobbing into his hands as he leans into Barbara’s lap. Barbara who is clinging to him like a lifeline as she feels her world shift once again, feeling so angry and confused at how one of them could be threatened like this. Of all the ways they could go out, was it really going to be cancer?

It was a harrowing experience for all of them to remember that they were human in more than just their flesh being able to bleed and be wounded, but for it to grow sick. For it to age and attack itself.

They were human at the end of the day and Tim…

In Metropolis, Clark Kent rushed into the bathroom at his work to throw up as he heard a conversation miles away.

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hima-matta04 · 5 months ago

Text

~~~~Their thoughts on quickies~~~~

Warnings: talk of pregnancy, jealousy, public sex, forcefulness (but not r@pe), slight cock warming, spit as lube, choking, glory hole, slight oral, cum eating, praise, masturbation, (huge trigger warning on scarletella’s bc of manipulation and murder)

Characters included: Mr. Crawling, Mr. Silvair, Mr. Chopped (with body 😀), Mr. Stitch, Mr. Gap, Mr. Scarletella, and Mr. Machete.

|>|<|>|<|>|<|>|<|>|<|>|<|>|<|>|<|>|<|>|<|>|<|>|<|>|

Mr. Crawling

He always likes to be very caring and sensual with you when the both of you ‘get down to business’. However, the day that he almost lost you to Mr. Stitch, he couldnt help but want to be as close as possible to you.

He had his cock tucked deep within your walls, moaning softly as he streched you around him. The entire time he muttered and wispered sweet things in your ear like “love you” and “not losing you ever”. That night he wished to get you pregnant…

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Mr. Stitch

Oh he loves to have fun with you. Your body, that is. If hes in the mood for it he’ll take you right where you stand. Even if youre out in the open, he doesnt care. He’s nice enough to at least spit on his fingers to make you wet.

He’ll shove his entire length into you all at once. He doesnt even need time to adjust, and apparently he doesnt think you do either. He pounds you at whatever pace or speed he wants. As he chases his high, he’ll wrap a calloused hand around your throat, chuckling when you struggle to breath as he cum hard inside of you.

Mr. Stitch will then leave, not caring to even try to make you cum. Not even an ounce of aftercare from him other than a pat on the head. He’ll leave you there alone, dripping with his seed.

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Mr. Gap

He’s a huge tease. One day he’s pestering about giving him a peice of you, but when you ask what he wants he simply replies “your body”, without warning, he’ll pull you into the hole in the wall where he is. He wastes no time climbing on top of you, kissing down your neck as his hands hastily grap at your breasts and hips.

When he finds your panties they end up soaked on the ground as he passionately fucks you while rubbing your clit and praising your body and how good you feel. Other times, you find him grabbing onto your thighs and pulling you to the gaps. His crusty hands hold your thighs tightly in place as he fucks you from inside the wall while you have to force yourself to look normal as people walk by. Lets just say his little act of neediness didnt go unpunished later that day.

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Mr. Silvair

Mr silver only likes quickies when the two of you are completely alone. He sees it as a quick brain break from whatever hes focused on and sometimes he likes to sink himself into you after hours of studying. He especially likes it when you walk in his office unannounced and perch yourself on his desk in front of him. He’ll stop whatever he’s doing just to passionately fill you up with cock.

As he pumps inside of you he likes to caress your sides and your shoulders and tell you how much he needed this. Once you finally cum on his throbbing cock, he’ll speed up to his own pace to finish himself off before releasing in your mouth for you to swallow. Once he makes sure that you’re unhurt and satisfied, he’ll gently lay you on the closest bed and kiss your forehead before continuing his work.

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Mr Chopped with body

I cant help but feel like when he first gets hus body, he gets hard from the slightest things. The look in your eyes when you smile at him? He’s excusing himself to relieve himself. The time your hand brushed against his? His tip was already leaking with pre cum. Of course this because extremely noticeable over maybe a week of his self pleasuring habits, so thats when you told him you’d be glad to help him.

Now, everytime you provoked him in any way, all he had to do was tug at your sleeve a little and give you puppy dog eyes, and you’d let him take you to any empty room and needily rut into you. His first time was just the cutest! He was a wimpering, moaning mess as you did as little as jerk him off. Now every time his the slightest but horny, he’s pulling you to the closest corner, not matter if theres people around, and he fucks you hard and fast… its a little painful but he never lasts long.

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Mr. Scarletella

The second he sees you speaking to anyone but him, you’re shoved into a space as small as a closet for all he cares. You can cry and beg him with “its too much”, but Mr. Scarletella isn’t going to stop until the only name you can remember is his. He usually liked to just think about you in various positions, completely broken on his cock. The murderous grin that stretched across his face when he finally had the opportunity and reason to break you confirmed it.

He’ll make you ride him first until your legs are limp and completely useless. Then, he’ll grasp you by the waist, stand up, and use you like you’re nothing but a fuck toy. All of this while he degrades and manipulates you. Depending on who you’re talking to, he might kill them right in front of you and force you to look at the dead body while he fucks you, licking the tear rolling down your cheek. Of course Mr. Scarletella will reel you back into his heart by showing you affectionate aftercare and many soft kisses.

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Mr. Machete

Normally thats the only way he fucks you. Fast, random, and with no foreplay in sight. He does it without warning too. Like suddenly picking you up, no matter who you’re talking to, and gently carrying you to an empty room where he practically rips your clothes off (if you dont protest) and smiles stupidly.

The thing about Mr. Machete is that if he fucks you, you need to be completely naked for him. And he loves it when you ride him! He gently traces the bump from his cock on your tummy while bucking his hips up into yours. Surprisingly, he doesnt fuck you as rough as he possibly can unless you tease, or provoke him in any way. He makes sure to take things at your pace, especially since hes not about to eat you out or finger you. Its the least he can do.

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