#imagine shawn

[quickestgold]

Goodbye, My Lover | Part 3 | The Pitt

Pairing: Dr. Jack Abbot x Dr. (Ex-Mil)!Reader x Dr. Michael 'Robby' Robinavitch

Chapter 3: I Forgive You

Synopsis: When you're rushed into the ER with critical injuries, Robby and Jack find themselves in a desperate battle to save the woman they still love. Amidst the chaos, the line between professional duty and personal history blurs.

Warnings: Age gap is around 18 years. This series deals with some heavy themes around a physical attack, death, grief, ptsd, panic attacks, s*icidal tendencies, heartbreak >>> comfort at the end, I promise

Word count: 1222

A/n: Here it is,,, the chapter where what happened is finally revealed. Fyi, the physical attack isn't detailed, but the treatment of the injuries is pretty graphic, so take care if that isn't your kind of thing besties

Previous Chapter (2): Please Forgive Me | Next Chapter (4): Thank You

“Please forgive me”, Jack’s words echo in your ears. You’re still on the pavement, the three of you in an intimate, fragile circle.

You didn’t realize how much guilt Jack still carried with him.

It wasn’t his fault.

“What do you mean, Jack?” Your voice soothing.

He doesn't react.

“For not being there", Robby speaks, for both of them.

Your eyes flicker to Robby’s and it hits you. The day he snapped at you in the ER.

“No”, you cut him off. “This is not your fault,” your tone direct.

“And not mine.” You surprise yourself. Too long you’ve blamed yourself for what that angry patient did, but hearing Jack and Robby take on this burden, feels like a punch to your gut.

Robby takes Dana to the side: “Where’s Y/N?” Worry evident on his face.

“She went to get some air”, Dana answers reluctantly, having overheard the incident earlier.

Robby lets out a guilty groan, eyes shut, twisting his mouth. He scratches the back of his neck, shaking his head ever so slightly, like he usually does when he’s stressed.

“Okay", exhaling softly. "Come find me when she’s back please? I need to apologize.”

“No shit”, Dana huffs.

“Dr. Robby!” Perlah calls from Trauma One, urgency in her voice. And with that he’s off.

Jack watches from a distance, worry growing within him as well. He heads straight for the stairwell. He should have said something.

But when he reaches your spot, all he finds is Dr. Garcia having a smoke with one of her colleagues. It seems like he's interrupted something, awkward tension hangs heavy in the air.

“Has Y/N been up here?” Jack shouts.

“Check the attending’s lounge, that’s her thing isn’t it?” Yolanda provokes.

Jack groans, rushing back down to find Robby. But his search is cut short when EMTs rush in a patient in bad shape. “What have we got?”

“Unconscious, but breathing. Blunt force trauma to the head, suspected rib fractures, possible pneumothorax and significant blood loss”, the EMT reports quickly.

“Trauma Two” Jack commands, his voice sharp and professional, already assessing the damage.

As he works, something catches his eye, the patient’s wrist. A small tattoo is partially visible, just beneath the bloodied sleeve. He pulls it back slightly, to make sure. Praying, begging, that he's wrong.

He isn’t. It’s the same tattoo that decorates his own arm.

Jack freezes. Unable to move a muscle, paralyzed.

His heart races and for a moment, the sterile walls seem to close in on him. It can’t be, but there’s no mistaking the face beneath all the blood.

“Get Robby. Now!” Jack orders, his voice low but urgent. He knows he can’t do this alone. Not when it's you.

Robby enters the room in a rush, ready for another emergency. “Need a hand?” He teases. But the moment his eyes land on you, his entire world stops.

Jack doesn’t say anything, doesn’t dare take his eyes off of you, fearing you might slip away if he does.

“What the fuck happened?” Robby demands, his voice thick with disbelief, as he moves quickly to the side of the gurney.

“We found her in the alley by the back entrance”, the EMT states.

Robby’s mind races, but his training kicks in.

Robby and Jack work in tandem, their movements seamless as they prepare to save you. Jack checks your airway, while Robby begins assessing your chest injuries. Every second is critical, both men struggling to maintain their professionalism.

Their hands move over your exposed form, painfully mirroring the way their fingers used to trail your body when you were together. Every inch of you mapped out and forever burnt into their minds.

Focus. Focus!

“Ribs are displaced”, Robby mutters, his voice tight. “Probable flail chest. We need to drain the pleural cavity.”

Jack nods grimly, his mind running through the necessary procedures. “Collapsed lung, tension pneumothorax most likely." He takes a deep breath, his eyes scanning the monitors. Your heart rate is erratic and your oxygen levels are dangerously low. "Needle decompression first."

Jack presses his fingers along your ribs to locate the entry point. His hands are precise as he performs the procedure, inserting the needle just above your rib. The trapped air escapes immediately.

"Got it", Jack says, a moment of relief, as he watches your chest begin to expand more naturally.

Robby steps back, barking orders, his usual calm demeanor starting to crack. "Prep for intubation. We need to secure the airway."

Jack nods, already setting up the equipment.

Robby checks your pupils, his fingers pressing gently against your neck. "Pulse is weak.”

Jack places the endotracheal tube in, ensuring it’s secured, giving you a few breaths.

Robby moves in with the chest tube, prepared to drain the fluid building up. The tube is inserted and the air begins to flow freely, your breathing starting to stabilize.

"We’ve got a pathway", Robby says, but his voice breaks. He looks at Jack, like a little boy who’s lost their parent in a busy crowd. Willing him to fix this. To fix you.

Without warning, the heart monitor flatlines with a piercing, urgent tone. Jack’s eyes snap to the monitor, heart sinking. "No… No." He moves quickly to your side, checking your pulse. He doesn’t hesitate, positioning himself at your chest.

With practiced urgency, Jack stacks his hands over your sternum. He feels sick, knowing what he’s about to do. He quickly swallows the lump in his throat, using his body weight to compress down, forceful and steady.

The team rushes to prepare the defibrillator.

After a while Robby instructs, “Hold compressions." But the flatline continues.

“Still in asystole”, Donnie states, voice trembling.

Jack resumes compressions seemlessly. Each deep push into your chest feels like a silent plea for you to come back to them.

Sweat begins to pool on Jack’s forehead. Robby motions for him to switch out. Jack complies, as Robby takes over effortlessly. The risk of breaking your ribs sends an icy shiver down his spine, it's brutal and suffocating.

“V-fib. We’ve got a shockable rhythm”, Jack’s firm tone snaps Robby back, all eyes fixed on the monitor. “Charge to 200”, Robby orders.

The machine charges with a loud beeping. “Clear!” Donnie shouts.

Everyone pulls their hands away, as the shock is delivered.

The silence is deafening, everyone collectively holding their breath with you.

The monitor flickers.

Then, a pulse.

Weak, but it’s there. The sound of your heart returning to sinus rhythm.

Finally, Jack allows himself to see you as more than a patient on the table. He studies your face, lightly touching your cheek, cautious not to hurt you any further.

“Stay with us, Y/N", Jack says softly, not daring to look away from your battered body.

“Okay. Let’s take a deep breath. All of us”, Robby speaks calmly, looking directly at Jack.

Everyone takes a slow, necessary breath.

Robby finally dares to look down at you too, his face softening. He leans in, "We’ve got you". Though he knows the fight isn’t over.

Back on the pavement. It feels like you've been out here for a while.

It's not your fault.

Robby takes in your words.

He leans in, placing a gentle hand on Jack’s shoulder. They share a look and you realize that’s how they made it through almost losing you.

Together.

Thanks for reading part 3!! If you’re a healthcare professional, please look awayyy, this is probably full of medical inaccuracies, I'm sorry! The next chapter will focus more on their collective healing… As always, pls share your thoughts below!!

PS: Lmk if you want to be added to the taglist: ♡

@queenslandlover-93 @sp00kylesley @dark-twisted-and-mechanical-mind @sqrlgrl22 @imonmykneessir @gabsgabsvaz @nowandajenn @cannonindeez @sydney-m @persistent-mango

[nfr-girly]

can we talk about how FINEE the cast of the Pitt is

[thepencilnerd]

Right Place, Right Time

pairing: off-duty Dr. Jack Abbot x F!Doctor!Reader genre: crack meets cozy, meet-cute(ish), mutual pining summary: Your first day off in weeks was supposed to be quiet. Instead, you ended up chasing down a purse thief at the farmers market—armed with nothing but a butternut squash. Luckily, Abbot was right behind you. word count: 1.3k a/n: can you tell I watch kdramas - ft. vigilante vegetables, Abbot’s quiet awe, and one shared squash. also I just realized that Shawn Hatosy was in The Faculty, all childhood crushes lead to home

It was your first day off in weeks. The kind of day where you’d promised yourself you’d sleep in, stay in bed, maybe make pancakes. Instead, your eyes snapped open at 6:47 AM. No alarm, no notification, no reason. Just muscle memory and a brain that refused to shut up. 

After 45 minutes of staring at the ceiling, three failed attempts at meditation, and a solid internal debate about whether watching trauma compilation videos on YouTube counted as self-sabotage, you decided to go for a walk.

The farmers market felt like a good idea—low stakes, decent people watching, maybe a loaf of bread or something overly artisanal involving lavender and eucalyptus. 

You were about halfway through your second lap past the honey stand when you heard it: a woman’s shout, followed by a blur of motion out of the corner of your eye. A man sprinted past, clutching a purse.

You blinked. Looked at the stunned woman.

And took off running.

In hindsight, it was a terrible idea. You had no backup, no plan, and you were wearing your least aerodynamic hoodie. But something primal kicked in, motivated mostly by the audacity of men in today’s age, and your feet were already moving.

You chased him past a stall of heirloom tomatoes, down a gravel path, narrowly dodged a man with a stroller—and then, acting on pure adrenaline and chaos, you snatched a butternut squash from a produce display and hurled it like a missile. It hit him square between the shoulder blades—enough to knock him off balance without risking a lawsuit.

He stumbled. Went down hard. The purse skidded out of his hand and into a nearby pile of decorative gourds.

You skidded to a stop and hunched over with your hands on your knees, catching your breath. It was a Sunday miracle. Then something—or someone—slammed into you from behind. You went down with an undignified yelp, landing in the grass. A moment later, a familiar voice groaned from where he landed next to you.

"Damn..."

You turned your head. "Dr. Abbot?"

He was already pushing himself up on his elbows, hair a windblown mess, sweater askew, expression somewhere between sheepish and incredulous.

"Shit, are you okay?" he asked, voice laced with worry. "I saw you take off. I didn’t know what was happening, so I—"

"Chased me?"

He winced. "Yeah. I think I owe you a new sweater."

Crouching beside you, he scanned you head to toe, his voice weighted with affect. "Anywhere hurt? You took a hard fall back there."

Then, without waiting for your answer, he slipped an arm under your shoulders and another beneath your knees, lifting you with a quiet grunt. His arms were strong, steady, and his hands—warm, broad, callused—held you with the kind of care that made your heart question its rhythm.

You both looked over at the man groaning on the ground. The purse lay just beyond him, untouched.

The police were quick to arrive, picking him up and the purse off the ground and taking him away with practiced efficiency. Abbot raised a hand in greeting to one of the officers—apparently someone he knew—before turning back to you.

He carried you a few paces to a nearby bench, the gravel crunching beneath his running shoes, before easing you down gently like you were made of glass.

"Sit. Breathe. You good?" he asked, crouching again beside you, brows furrowed with concern.

You nodded slowly, then winced as your fingers brushed over a scratch on your cheek. "Just a scrape," you muttered.

Abbot’s hand came up gently, fingertips brushing the edge of your jaw as he tilted your face toward the light. His thumb was warm and careful against your skin, and you nearly melted right then and there.

With the kind of casual grace that only made it worse, he pulled an alcohol pad from the pocket of his zip-up—of course he was prepared—and tore it open. He dabbed it gently over the scratch, his touch featherlight despite the sting.

"Sorry," he murmured, brows furrowed. Then, he pulled out a bandaid, peeled it open, and added, "Hold still," before placing it just below your cheekbone with careful precision. His hands were steady, practiced—like he’d done this a hundred times, just never on you.

Between his firm but gentle instructions and the way he touched you—like you were fragile and fierce all at once—you were pretty sure you’d jump off a cliff with a smile if he asked you to.

"Thanks." You cleared your throat, voice quieter than before. "Are you okay?"

He gave a sheepish half-smile. "You broke most of my fall. I'm so sorry..."

"Well, next time try not to use me as a crash mat," you teased, suppressing a smile.

He chuckled. "Deal. But I still owe you a proper thank you. Maybe pancakes."

"Now you’re speaking my language."

Abbot glanced at you again, cheeks flushing. "You, uh... you have a mean throwing arm."

You snorted. "Years of chucking chart binders at interns and childhood taekwondo will do that for you."

The sound he made might’ve been a laugh, if he hadn’t still been breathless from the fall. He sat back, looking at you with quiet awe. "That was pretty badass. And kind of terrifying. In a good way."

You raised a brow. "You ran full speed through a market to back me up. I’d say that’s at least medium terrifying."

He looked down, suddenly bashful. "I didn’t really think. Just saw you running and... moved."

You blinked. Felt something flutter in your chest. "That’s kind of sweet. Reckless, but sweet." You looked him over then, really looked—noticed the zip-up, the moisture-wicking fabric, the sweat-damp hair at his temples. "Wait, were you out for a run?"

He gave a lopsided shrug. "Yeah. It’s kind of how I burn off steam after shifts. This is actually my usual route. Never seen you here before, though."

You nodded, rubbing the back of your neck. "Couldn’t sleep. Figured I’d walk it off before I lost my mind."

Abbot's mouth pulled into something small and understanding. "Good call."

You chuckled. "Barely. This was supposed to be a calm day."

"Hey, you stopped a thief with a squash. That’s more productive than most of my days off. You realize you’re basically a vegetable vigilante now, right?"

You huffed a laugh and nudged him with your shoulder. "God, that was such a dad joke. Do you rehearse those or are they just built into your DNA?"

Abbot held up a finger. "A quality dad joke. There’s a difference. And no, I don't have a repertoire of jokes. Much like medicine, they come to me naturally."

Your eyes rolled out of habit but couldn’t stop smiling. It was the kind of smile that stayed in your cheeks, in your chest, even as the quiet settled again between you.

It wasn’t awkward. It was easy. Familiar. Like the start of something.

A beat passed between you.

Abbot realized he was staring—at you. The way sunlight caught in your hair, your stray baby hairs blowing in the wind, the calm still blooming behind your smile. Something about the moment made his chest ache in the gentlest way.

He blinked, cleared his throat, and finally glanced toward the street. "There’s a café a block from here. Good coffee. Even better breakfast. Want to walk with me?"

You didn’t hesitate. "Yeah. I’d like that."

Before leaving, Abbot stooped to pick up the slightly dented butternut squash from where it had landed. You walked with him to the stall it had come from, both of you still a little dazed from the chaos. The woman running the stand took one look at the scene, then waved him off before he could pull out his wallet.

"Don’t even worry about it," she said with a wink. "You two make a great couple."

Neither of you corrected her.

You laughed as the two of you turned back toward the sidewalk. Abbot cradled the squash like a trophy. "Well, now we definitely have to make soup or something."

"Or risotto," you added.

"Sounds like dinner," he said, grin tugging at one corner of his mouth—teasing, but a little hopeful too. "If you’re free tonight."

You gave him a sideways glance, lips quirking. "Depends. You helping or just bringing the squash?"

As the two of you started down the sidewalk, your shoulders bumped once—then again, but neither of you stepped away.

Maybe this day off wasn’t a total loss after all.

[komotionlessqueenmm]

Headcanon/Preference # 35

Gifs NOT mine.

Year posted - 2024

Rating - SFW & NSFW

Reading time (roughly) - 18 minutes

It's been a minute since I've watched all the Resident Evil movies, so some stuff might not be super accurate. Just roll with it my lovelies.

------------------------------

SFW

• You are really Weskers one and only true weakness, and he is both terrified, and enraged by the thought of someone exploiting that fact.

• So obviously he is very tempted to inject you with the virus. But he's worried that it might not bond with your genetics like his.

• So he runs like a million different tests, without your knowledge, to find out if it would undoubtedly bond with your genes.

• When he comes to the conclusion that it will in fact bond with your genes, he feels as if a weight is lifted off his chest...

• Now he's just got to figure out how to convince you to take it.

• If push comes to shove... He might just inject you against your will.

• If that's the case, he will do whatever it takes to earn your forgiveness, and make you understand that this was for the best.

• Wesker would burn a thousand world's to protect you okay. He'd abandon everything he's worked for, if it meant keeping you safe. You are his world, and his one and only.

• He would die for you if he had to, and he will fight to his very last breath to get back to you.

• You literally can have the world on a silver platter. If you want it, simply ask and it's yours.

• Money, power, jewelry, clothes, his attention, hell you simply want food? Weskers gonna pull out all the stops, and make you an amazing dinner.

• Can't bring yourself to ask for what you want, and you'd rather leave hints? No worries Wesker can read you like an open book, consider it yours already love.

• On that note. Wesker is an amazing cook, like seriously good. You'd think he took culinary classes before he got into working for Umbrella. In reality it's just a natural skill he was practically born with.

• He makes cooking complex meals look easy, and to him it is easy, second nature really. And he'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy cooking for you, doing anything that makes you happy, makes him happy in return.

• You're also the only person that can get him to open up and talk more. Something's he won't tell you about from his past, but those things he claims are better left in the past.

• Wesker loves reading to you, but he also loves listening to you read to him as well. And when you both wanna read your own books, curling up and spending the evening together reading quietly is perfect to.

• You make him so unlike himself at times. Sometimes even he wonders how you have such an effect on him. Not that he's complaining, he loves it in fact, it goes to show how special you really are.

• If you ever want to just go and get out of the infamous bunker, simply exploring what's left of the outside world. Wesker will let you, he knows you can look after yourself.

• But is he back at the bunker pacing back and forth like crazy? Yeah he totally is... For about 20-25 minutes before he decides he can't handle not knowing, and he goes after you.

• However he won't let you know he's there, he'll simply shadow you unless you really need him. He just needs to be certain you're okay, infected or not he still worries.

• He definitely teaches you how to fight. Hand to hand combat of course, but along with teaching you how to use just about any weapon he can get his hands on... Which is a lot.

• He'll teach you how to drive if you never learned, how to operate a helicopter, small plane, and even a fucking tank just in case.

• Don't know how to swim? No worries love, Wesker will take however long necessary to teach you. Don't have great endurance? He's got you covered.

• He's actually a very good teacher. He pushes you, but he never pushes you to far. He's fair. And he's driven to help you, become an even more amazing you. He's very patient, and very encouraging.

• Wesker loves everything about you. Anything you consider a flaw, he considers incredible. His praise is through the roof. He practically worships the very ground you walk on.

• As stated before Wesker can read you like an open book. So whenever you're scared, he's there to comfort you. Or if you're stressed, he's happy to draw you a warm bath.

• Maybe you're just tired? You know the kinda tired no amount of sleep can fix. Well he's there for you, holding you, letting you rest, and assuring you that he loves you.

• Despite how incredible he is, and how mush pride he has. Sometimes he can't help but feel a bit insecure at times. Are you afraid of his eyes? Of him perhaps? Will you grow bored of him and leave? Is he worthy of you?

• It's rare that these thoughts occur, let alone bother him. But sometimes late at night, while holding you in his arms, he can't help but wonder.

• He pushes those thoughts away, and the following morning you always manage to unknowingly, reassure him that he has nothing to worry about.

• Arguments with Wesker are pretty seldom. When it does happen, typically it's you hollering at him, and him sitting there silently waiting for you to calm down.

• He has raised his voice to you once, but it was brief, and he apologized almost immediately. The only reason he raised his voice, was because he was worried when you did something extremely reckless.

• Wesker is extremely patient, and understanding with you. He knows sometimes you're not quite yourself, whether it's because you're tired, you're hurting, or simply overwhelmed with something.

• If something is bothering you, but you don't want to talk about it. He'll quietly scoop you up into his arms, take you to bed or nearest couch, and simply lay down with you atop him. Petting your hair and simply letting you relax.

• He's seen you cry many times, and he's never once thought poorly of you for it. He knows you've been through a lot, and adapting to this new world isn't easy for you.

• You've seen him cry once. There was an accident while exploring the outside world, and Wesker thought he'd lost you, that he'd failed you, and you'd paid the ultimate price.

• Even as he looked up at you from his position on his knees, tears continued to roll silently down his pale cheeks. You were alive and well, but he was so close to losing you.

• You held him in your arms, and simply let him get it all out in silence. His strong frame, typically as unfazed as a brick wall, shaking as his heart wretched in his chest.

• He'd never known pain like that before, and he was grateful you didn't think any less of him for it. Hell it brought you both closer together, and strengthened your bond in ways he had never considered before.

• Wesker encourages every one of your hobbies, even if it's something he doesn't quite see the appeal of. It makes you happy, and that's good enough for him. He'll find you supplies whenever he leaves the bunker, and really anything he thinks you might like.

• The beginning of your relationship was odd. Before you started dating, Wesker would follow you around like a grumpy cat. Acting like you mean nothing to him, but always insisting on being near you.

• Actually there are a lot of reasons you could compare Wesker to a cat. And if you ever tell him that he denies it admittedly, all the while practically purring as you toy with his hair absentmindedly.

• He'll literally be staring at you without his sunglasses, and his slit pupils are now wide and round. And the moment his attention is drawn elsewhere they shift back into thin slits.

• Wesker has a secret sweet tooth, and again if he's called out on it, he'll deny it to hell and back. Even if he has a sweet in his hand, or even his mouth. You can't prove anything!

• Will definitely steal food from you just to tease you, a playful smile on his face the entire time. Actually he steals all sorts of stuff from you just to taunt you, and he absolutely loves it when you chase after him trying to get it back.

• Will he use his power to speed away? Possibly. But he honestly enjoys letting you think you can really catch him.

• Aka he enjoys playing cat and mouse, but you never know who's the cat, and who's the mouse until the cat gives chase.

• All in all he loves you with every fiber of his being, and he would follow you anywhere, and do anything for you. It doesn't matter what you might say or do at times, you are his everything.

NSFW

• Oh and before you ask, yes the cat and mouse play, is something that occurs in the bedroom. And again it varies on who's the cat and mouse depending on yours and his mood.

• Wesker enjoys all sorts of role playing. Acting like he's the STARS Captain, that needs to do whatever it takes to get you to confess to a crime. Being the good doctor who must cure your mysterious illness.

• And even acting as if the virus has altered his mind, and made him into a mindless sex crazed beast. He especially enjoys this one, because it plays into his breeding kink.

• This man wants to breed you so so bad. It's partly a side effect of the virus, but he's always had an interest in it long before he injected himself. Now with you as his love, he feels as if he needs to breed.

• Rough sex, slow sex, quickies, you name it he wants it. His sex drive is high now that you're together, but he is very patient if you don't want sex as much as him.

• Wesker is incredibly romantic, and he loves spoiling you. He's a giver through and through. So that being said if he could live the rest of his life, with his face buried between your thighs he would.

• Oral is a must anyhow. Wesker is big, he's well aware of this fact, and he doesn't want to hurt you. So he'll spend at least a half hour between your legs just prepping you.

• And boy does he know what he's doing. You often loose count of how many orgasms he pulls from you.

• From base to tip he is roughly 7.9 inches long, and 2.1 inches wide. The tip is very prominent, and he is surprisingly uncircumcised. His cock also leans a little to the left when hard.

• His cock is a pale as the rest of his body, but when he's hard the head gets very pink. He has two very prominent veins that feel absolutely divine.

• Wesker loves cockwarming so much, sometimes he insists on sleeping with his cock still buried in your heat. But his favorite time is when you're sitting together reading.

• He's such a tease when you're cockwarming. Giving the occasional thrust just to hear you whine needily. He will pump load after load into you, and keep you plugged up with his dick, even if you are sensitive.

• Aftercare King GOD! He will massage your sore muscles, clean you up, run you a soothing bath, bring you a snack and plenty of water or maybe some soothing tea. He'll whisper sweet nothing's into your ear, praise you, and remind you of how much he truly loves you.

• You just wanna cuddle afterwards? Perfect it'll give it time for his seed to work its way deeper. Want a bath or shower immediately after? That's okay too, he'll change the sheets while you do so, then join you once he's done.

• You can always tell when he's horny, not only by the way he'll paw at you, or the evident bulge in his pants. But also because his eyes glow exceptionally bright, and the slits of his eyes are wide.

• He sounds like a beast as he nuzzles into you, growling and purring as he tries to coax you into helping him out.

• That being said Wesker is very vocal. He moans, growls, purrs, and spews praise the entire time. He isn't super loud about it, as he prefers to have his face buried in your neck, but sometimes he will get a bit loud. Typically that's when he's really needy.

• When he's extra needy, he whimpers so much. It's so fucking hot when you get him all worked up like that. Making him weak and needy, whimpering and begging you for his release. It's divine, and makes you feel so very powerful.

• He loves loves loves making you loud as fuck. His goal is to make your voice horse by the time he's done. Especially if others might be around. He needs them to know who you belong to, and ensure no one is dumb enough to try anything.

• Wesker takes so much pleasure in fucking you dumb. And when you get cock drunk, he's so fucking proud. He will make an absolute mess out of you, and then praise you for being so good for him.

• There are very few things he isn't willing to try with you. He isn't willing to share you with anyone... With the exception of a clone of himself... He will fuck you roughly, but he doesn't take it to far considering his strength, and the amount of damage he can inflict with little effort.

• He does enjoy bondage, both for you and himself. And yeah he could break out of his binds very easily, but why would he, he's enjoying you taking control, and using him for your pleasure. His favorite technique of binding you is with a straitjacket, and it plays into some of his favorite role playing stories.

• Wesker will fuck you anywhere at any given time, seriously he has no shame, just ask and he is yours. That's not to say he won't kill anyone for interrupting or catching you. Your pussy is for his eyes only.

• While he loves pumping you full of his cum, he will never pass up an opportunity to cum on your tits. Especially if you beg for it so sweetly, I mean he loves fucking your tits anyhow. So if you want him to paint your breasts with his cum, who is he to deny you?

• But if you don't ask him to cover you in his cum, or cum in your mouth. Wesker is gonna stuff you with his cock and finish in your warm cunt. Even if he only gets the tip in before he starts to unload, as long as he's inside your heat he's satisfied.

• That isn't to say he won't make you eat his cum. His favorite way of doing that, is to cum inside your pussy, finger you until you cum, and make you suck on his sopping fingers. Sometimes with his gloves on, because he knows you love the leather.

• If you're together before being locked up in the bunker, Wesker is not above letting you suck his cock at his desk. In STARS or Umbrella, he is yours to do with as you please. And if he can return the favor while you're at work, he's more than happy to.

• Wesker also loves seeing you wearing his clothes so much, that it often gets him all hot and bothered, and he's on you real quick like.

• When you inevitably fall pregnant, Wesker is the first to know. He knows before you know. He could sense the changes to your body, and eventually he could hear the extra heartbeat.

• But he'll wait for you to figure it out, and come to him. And like a good lover, he'll act surprised by the news, because he knows it'll make you happy.

• He praises every change your body goes through, some of which he seriously adores. Like how your hips widen a bit, and your breasts swell with milk for the babe.

• He will pamper you 1,000% more than he already did, waking you up most days with his tongue buried in your sweet pussy. And when your breasts grow heavy and sore, he's there to relieve the pain.

• Lactation kink unlocked!

• Initially it started with him massaging your sore breasts, but as he watched milk bead from your tender nipple, he instinctively licked it clean.

• You moaned, he growled. And within seconds your nipple was in his hot greedy mouth. Wesker groaned at the taste of your milk, tweaking your other nipple until it began leaking.

• He played with the milk for a moment before swapping breasts. Back and forth he went until he was satisfied, and the pressure in your breasts had subsidied.

• He kissed you hungrily afterwards, letting you taste your own milk. Before kissing his way down your body until he reached your sex, eating you out as if he were starved.

• Wesker fucking loves pregnancy sex. He loves holding your swollen belly as he makes slow sensual love to you. He loves how extra responsive you are, and how extra sensitive your body is.

• He is very attentive and will help you in the shower or bath, and when your all cleaned up, he can't help himself and he will finger you to climax.

• And when it gets to hard to shave yourself, Wesker is happy to lend a helping hand. Which unsurprisingly ends with him licking your pussy.

• Forgot to mention it before, but Wesker enjoys eating pussy very messily. It's so obscene the sounds he makes as he licks and slurps at your sex, growling and moaning as he dose so.

• The sounds are so obscene you often find yourself blushing like crazy. Even though you tend to suck his cock all noisily as well, something he takes great pleasure in of course.

• Wesker loves having you ride his face, when you're pregnant and when you're not. Don't worry you can't hurt him, so grind away. He'll keep a firm unrelenting hold of your hips, so you don't gotta worry about falling or anything like that.

• Once your child is born, Wesker is eager to get you pregnant again, after you've healed up of course. Although if you would rather wait a while, he'll comply to your request.

• So he'll cum on your belly, on your tits, your butt, your back, or down your throat. Wherever you want really. But he will beg you to let him breed you again, eventually. He can't help it, he needs to breed you.

• If you downright refuse, then he's gonna get you into anal if you aren't already. So he can atleast cum in your ass if you won't let him cum in your pussy anymore. But again he will still try to convince you at some point to let him cum in your pussy again.

• He needs it, don't be mean.

------------------------------

Movie Wesker is a dreamboat okay! I freaking love Shawn Roberts, and he looked so good as Wesker.

[writing-girlie]

Beside you

Pairing: Jack Abbot x Wife!Reader

Blurb: In the wake of Pittfest you have to prepare to confront your past when you and Jack are called in to help.

WC: 1k

Note: I'm so obsessed with this man. Might write part two!

Evenings like this were a gift. Neither of you are getting ready for a shift or leaving for one, coming home tired or returning to an empty house. 

You’re on the couch together, the warm glow of the living room lamps casting soft light. The remnants of dinner are scattered across the coffee table - empty plates, a half-drunk bottle of wine. The only sound in the room is the quiet hum of the TV, playing something neither of you are really watching.

Your head rests on Jack’s shoulder as you trace shapeless patterns on his thigh. His arm rests around your shoulders, holding you close. 

“I could get used to this” you murmur as your eyes close. 

Jack chuckles softly, his lips brushing the top of your head. “It’s nice, isn’t it?” 

Peace never lasts long cause not even a minute later Jack's ringtone echoes through the room. He picks it up from the side table and answers. 

“Hey Robby, what's up?” As soon as you hear him say Robby your eyes open, and you look at the clock. 5:50pm. He'd still be on shift, and although you can't hear what Robby is saying you can hear the urgency in his tone which makes your stomach knot. You sit up, and your heart begins to race as you watch Jack's face. The conversation is brief, but the change in his body language is enough. He puts the phone down

“It’s PittFest,” Jack says, his voice almost too soft. “There’s an active shooter. They're calling in staff.”

You don't speak at first, you can't. Your legs suddenly feel weighted as you stand up. Jack also stands and his eyes search yours, he cups your cheek providing some comfort. His expression softens just for a moment before he shakes his head. “You don’t have to come. Robby said he understands.”

You turn your head slightly and kiss his palm. “You know I can't do that” You try to hide the shake in your voice. “I can't sit this out when I know what's happening, knowing I can help” His thumb brushes over your cheek, grounding you, but your mind is already slipping elsewhere.

6 months earlier

The first shot barely registers before the second and third ring out in quick succession. Then—screaming. Footsteps pounding in every direction. A rising, frantic noise that doesn’t stop.

Pain flares hot and sudden in your side, sharp enough to steal your breath. You get down to the ground, your hands instinctively pressing to the wound—already slick and warm with blood.

Around you, the chaos doesn’t slow. Bodies blur past. Shouts echo. Sirens wail in the distance, growing louder. You blink hard, forcing yourself to stay conscious. 

You don't know how much time passes before you're getting dragged into the back of someone's car along with other wounded and raced to the hospital.

The ride is fast and uneven, the tires screeching around corners. You are then being pulled from the car and sent inside, a pink slap and around your wrist. You try to listen to what the people around you say but you feel disorientated, a pitchy squeal still ringing through your ears.

“Abbot!” 

Robby’s voice cuts through the noise, sharp and urgent. It's enough to get him coming over as fast as he can. 

“What's going on-” He freezes. Just for a second. Long enough for the horror to register.

Then he moves. He’s at your side, hands already reaching, hesitating, afraid to hurt you, but needing to touch. “No, no…” His voice is barely above a whisper. “I’m here, I’ve got you. You’re okay. You’re okay.”

Your throat is so dry and you're in shock that only a squeak comes from your mouth. 

His hand grips yours, thumb sweeping over your knuckles, grounding you. “Stay with me, baby. I’ve got you.”

“Jack,” Robby says behind him, a quiet warning.

Jack closes his eyes for one second. Then he lets go of your hand. He straightens, wipes his face with the back of his glove, and turns to the chaos.

“McKay, get to the red zone. They need hands. Go.” She doesn’t question it—just does it. 

“Robby, you’re with me,” Jack says, voice tighter now, cold and clear.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The hospital is quieter now. People still line the halls but the chaos has died down. The weight of everything lingers in the air. 

After Jake has checked in on others around he circles round to you. His shoulders fall slightly, just enough to show you that he’s been holding himself upright on pure adrenaline.

He leans on the gurney. His fingers run through your hair. “You scared the hell out of me," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

You glance at him, a teasing smile tugging at your lips despite the ache in your side. “C’mon, Jack. I think you’ve seen me in worse shape after a night shift.”

He lets out a laugh, short but real. “Yeah, but at least then you're not bleeding out.”

“Well, next time I’ll try to give you a heads-up.”

He shakes his head, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You're not funny.”

“But you love me?” You murmur, guiding him for a proper kiss.

“I do” He kisses you again. “So damn much” and again.

Now

You don't even have to think, muscle memory kicks in as you both rush to get ready. The drive is fast and quiet. He glances at you briefly. “You okay?”

“No,” you admit. “But we don’t have time not to be.”

When the hospital comes into view, the chaos has already started and your stomach knots. You remember too clearly what it was like arriving in the back of someone’s car, bleeding and barely conscious. Tonight, you walk in on your own two feet.

Jack grabs your wrist as you reach the sliding doors, just for a second.

“You’re not a patient this time.”

You nod. “I know.”

Then the doors open and the noise swallows you both. You gear up and head your different directions. 

“Dr. Abbott,” a nurse calls, breathless. “They need you in Trauma 2.”

“I’m going to triage,” you say, already pulling on gloves.

Jack catches your arm before you disappear. “Don't hesitate to come to me if you need something."

You give him a soft look. “I’m not the one you need to worry about.”

“I’m still gonna,” he says.

“I know” You give him a kiss. “I love you”

“I love you too”

[greengoblinswifey]

Older Wrestlers Do It Better—Shawn Michaels x Fem!Reader

summary— After winning your first Women’s Championship, you finally meet your childhood crush, Shawn Michaels. Nervously flirting with him leads to an unforgettable night where he makes your win ever better.

warnings— age gap(reader is in her 20s, shawn is in his 50s), flirting, cunnilingus, praise kink, possessive!shawn, unprotected sex, creampie, aftercare.

a/n— My first Shawn Michaels fic, hope you guys enjoy <3 Literally have had a crush on him for so long🤭

Winning the Women’s Championship was the most surreal moment of your life. Years of grinding in other promotions, building your name, perfecting your craft, it had all led to this. The cheers of the crowd, the weight of the gold on your shoulder, the rush of emotions hitting you all at once as you stepped backstage.

The second you crossed the curtain, a wave of congratulations hit you. Superstars, crew members, even higher ups, everyone was there, giving you pats on the back, words of praise. You tried to take it all in, your heart still hammering from the adrenaline, when you heard it.

A deep, gruff voice behind you.

“Congratulations, champ. I’m proud of you.”

You froze. That voice. That unmistakable, slightly raspy voice. Slowly, almost in disbelief, you turned around and your breath caught in your throat.

It was him.

Shawn Michaels.

Your brain short circuited. For years, you’d admired him. Hell, if you were being honest, you’d been in love with him. Growing up, watching him on your TV screen, mesmerized by his presence, his talent, his everything. And now, here he was, standing right in front of you, looking at you like he actually knew who you were.

“Wow,” you blurted out, your voice coming out embarrassingly breathless. “Thank you.”

Shawn smirked at your obvious nerves, his arms crossing over his chest. “You earned it,” he said. “I’ve been watching you for a while now. I made sure they knew you were the real deal. You’re gonna carry this division better than anyone.”

Your heart nearly exploded. Shawn Michaels had been watching you? Shawn Michaels had put in a word for you?

“I—” You struggled to form words, your cheeks burning. “That means everything. I admire you so much, I love your work, I—” You cut yourself off before you started sounding like a crazy fangirl, pressing your lips together to stop yourself from rambling.

His smirk deepened, and before you could react, he pulled you into a hug.

Holy. Fuck.

Your face pressed against his chest, his arms wrapped around you, the scent of his cologne completely overwhelming your senses. Your brain refused to function, your hands awkwardly gripping onto the back of his shirt as your cheeks burned hotter than ever.

After a few moments, he pulled back, his hand squeezing your shoulder before dropping to his side. “Didn’t wanna take up too much of your time,” he said. “Enjoy your night, champ.”

And just like that, he was gone, leaving you standing there like an absolute fool.

Later, after the chaos of the night settled, you were lounging with Rhea, Tiffany, and Liv in the locker room, all of them still hyped over your win.

“You killed it out there,” Rhea said, nudging you with a proud grin.

Tiffany nodded, flipping her hair. “And let’s be real, your skin looks so good with gold.”

“Thanks, guys. But guess who congratulated me? And—” You leaned in dramatically. “Was apparently partially responsible for my win?”

The girls exchanged curious looks. “Who?” Liv asked.

You took a breath for dramatic effect. “Shawn. Fucking. Michaels.”

The reaction was instant. Rhea’s eyes widened, Tiffany gasped, and Liv practically shrieked.

“Your crush?” Rhea said.

“The man you said you wanted to marry?” Tiffany added.

“Exactly,” you confirmed, still trying to process it yourself.

“And?” Liv pressed. “Did you keep your cool, or did you embarrass yourself?”

You groaned, throwing your head back. “Oh, I embarrassed myself. I was all nervous, blushing like an idiot, barely forming words. But he hugged me. I swear I almost passed out.”

“Okay, but what does this mean? Do you think he was flirting?” Tiffany laughed.

“God, I hope so,” you muttered before sighing dramatically. “I just want him so bad. He’s so fine. And you know I love older men. Like, I would give anything for him to fuck me hard. With eye contact, might I add. Older men just do it better—”

The sudden silence from the girls made your stomach drop.

You saw their eyes widen, their mouths slightly open, and the moment Rhea subtly nodded toward something behind you, you knew.

Slowly, dreading what you were about to see, you turned around.

And there he was.

Shawn Michaels.

Standing right behind you.

Smirking.

Your heart fell straight to the floor. You were so done. Absolutely finished. WWE was going to strip you of your title, fire you, and blacklist you from the industry.

Shawn crossed his arms, looking far too amused for your liking. “Whenever you’re free and ready to leave,” he said smoothly, “meet me in my dressing room.”

You nodded, entirely incapable of forming words.

He winked before walking off, leaving you frozen in place, your entire soul leaving your body.

The second he was out of earshot, the girls erupted into laughter, squealing and shaking you like you’d just won the lottery.

“You are so lucky,” Tiffany gasped, fanning herself.

Liv was practically in tears. “Oh my god, I thought you were gonna die on the spot.”

Rhea smirked, slinging an arm around your shoulder. “Well, champ, looks like your childhood crush just became your reality.”

Your brain was still catching up. Shawn Michaels had heard you. Shawn Michaels wanted you to meet him.

Holy. Shit. You were in for one hell of a night.

Shawn was waiting when you stepped into his dressing room, leaning back on the couch with that signature smirk.

“You took your time,” he teased.

Your heart pounded as you shut the door. “Trying to recover from the fact that you heard all of that.”

“Oh, I heard every word, sweetheart,” he chuckled.

You groaned, covering your face. “God, that was so embarrassing.”

He pried your hands away. “Nah, I liked what I heard.” His smirk deepened. “Older men do it better, huh?”

Your face burned. “Are you gonna keep bringing that up?”

“Maybe,” he said, tilting his head. “But I think I’d rather show you instead.”

Your breath hitched, and he leaned in, voice lower now. “Where you staying tonight?”

You told him your hotel, and he hummed in approval. “Same one. I’ll drive you.”

You texted the girls telling them you’d be with him. There would be a lot to talk about in the morning.

The car ride made you nervous. You stole glances at him, watching the way his muscles flexed as he gripped the wheel. He was even hotter in person. He looked just as good, hell, even better than he did on TV. The years had only added to his appeal, roughening his edges in the best way.

“You keep looking at me like that,” he said without taking his eyes off the road, “I might just have to pull over.”

You bit your lip. "Can’t help it. You’re kinda unreal."

His smirk grew. “Come to my room tonight. I’ll give you exactly what you’ve been craving.”

Your stomach flipped.

90s Shawn Michaels had been your first love. But Shawn now? Oh, you’d let him do anything to you.

When you arrived at the hotel, people stopped to congratulate you. You took pictures, smiling through the anticipation burning inside you.

The moment the elevator doors shut, his fingers brushed your wrist. “Last chance to back out.”

“Not a chance,” you murmured.

His hotel room door had barely shut before he turned you, pressing you against it. His hands beside your head, eyes dark as they met yours.

“This what you wanted?”

Your breath caught. “I’ve dreamt about this.”

His lips crashed onto yours, stealing any response you had left. His hands gripped under your thighs, lifting you effortlessly as you wrapped around him. He carried you to the bed, sinking onto it with you in his lap.

You could feel him beneath you, hard and eager, as you rocked against him. His hands roamed, mapping every inch of you, his lips never leaving yours.

“Been wanting this for years, haven’t you?” he murmured against your lips, hands roaming your body.

You nodded breathlessly, gripping onto his shoulders for balance.

His smirk returned as he cupped your face. “You’re just as sweet as I imagined.”

His lips trailed down your cheek, to your neck, pressing soft kisses that left you shivering. He moved slowly, savoring, before laying you back against the bed, hovering over you. His eyes searched yours, expression softening slightly.

“This okay?” he asked, voice quieter now.

“I want this. I want you,” you nodded, already breathless.

He exhaled slowly, his thumb tracing your cheek. “Then let me take care of you.”

His hands found the hem of your blouse, fingers toying with the fabric as he waited for your permission. When you gave it, he lifted it over your head, his gaze roaming over you with something akin to awe.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured.

Heat pooled in your stomach, your heart pounding as he leaned down again, pressing another kiss to your lips. He slipped you out of the rest of your clothes then pulled back, his eyes once again taking over you.

“Look at you, naked in front of me. Fucking perfect,” he said.

He knelt, making you gasp, trailing kisses until he reached your clit, spreading your legs and kissing further and further.

“You're soaked, sweetheart, so wet for me,” he murmured, using his tongue to collect your wetness and spitting it back onto your pussy.

A soft moan escaped your lips, you couldn't believe Shawn fucking Michaels was about to eat you out.

“I love those moans. Let me hear you.”

He dived in, flicking his tongue on your clit before bringing it down to your leaking hole and licking back up. His grip was firm but gentle on your thighs, spreading them wide as he continued. You couldn't believe the utter pleasure you were feeling, he was so skilled with his tongue having you squirm underneath him and moan so loudly, you feared the other wrestlers on the floor would hear.

“Oh, Shawn,” you cried, back arching off the bed.

Cocky Shawn hadn’t been lost due to the years. You could feel the smirk between your legs. “That’s it, sweetheart. Scream my name. I’m the one making you feel good.”

His tongue worked you over sending jolts of pleasure throughout your body as his blue eyes stared into yours. As his movements grew, the coil in your abdomen grew tighter, ready to burst.

“Cum on my tongue beautiful.” A loud moan left your lips and your body lifted from the bed, as he practically took your soul and you squirted onto his face, soaking him. He slurped you up like you were his last meal and you squirmed under his touch, your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“You're so beautiful when you cum. You taste amazing,” he panted.

You pulled him up into a kiss, his mouth soaked in your juices. His head moved down to your breasts, suckling and moaning as your fingers clawed his back.

Shawn’s eyes never left yours as he undressed, revealing his toned chest and arms. You smiled, your heart racing as you reached out to gently touch his chest, tracing the lines of muscle with your fingertips. “You’re so so hot,” you whispered.

He let out a soft laugh. “You’re the one who’s hot, sweetheart,” he said, his hands in through your curls, tugging you closer to him.

Your lips met his again, tender and slow, savoring the moment. You pressed yourself against him, feeling his hard cock, the heat of his body matching the desire building between you. His hands were gentle but firm as he guided you to the bed, settling you back gently.

Your gaze wandered and your eyes caught his very hard cock. He was so thick, the full package. Shawn always radiated big dick energy but to see it up close and personal—veins prominent, slight curve, long—it was no wonder he acted the way he did in the 90s. He had all reason to be that cocky bastard. He was perfect.

Your mouth practically watered at the sight and you took ahold of it, hand barely able to go around and angled it towards your mouth but he stopped you.

“Not yet,” he murmured. “Tonight’s about you, about making sure you feel good.”

You nodded, heart fluttering as he hovered above you, his hands resting on either side of your head. His expression was soft, his eyes filled with nothing but admiration as he looked down at you.

He used the tip of his cock, dragging it along your wet folds as the sound of squelching filled the room. He teased you a bit more, until he slowly pushed inside, your mouth falling open as he thrusted into you. You moaned at the intrusion and looked down, only to see he was just half way in.

“Y-you’re so big,” you gasped.

“I know, but you can take it. This tight little pussy was made for my cock,” he whispered, leaning down to bite your ear lobe.

It felt like all the wind had been knocked from your lungs as he slid the rest of his length inside you. Tiny whimpers left your lips when he stilled, savoring how your walls began to welcome him in.

“See, you can take it baby, it’s okay.” He began rutting into you steadily, each time, you could feel the head of his cock brush against an area no man had ever come close to hitting before. He was so deep.

“You feel so good,” he groaned, rolling his hips to meet yours.

All you could do was moan, the overwhelming pleasure taking your ability to form coherent words.

“God, I love hearing your pretty moans,” he said, pushing your hair back.

You could barely hang on and “Shawn, cum,” was all you managed to say as you felt the pressure build up like a dam ready to burst.

“I can feel your pussy just sucking me in and gripping me. Go ahead sweetheart, cum for me, s’okay,” he cooed.

You cried out, wrapping your arms around him as he picked up his pace, the dam inside you bursting and your orgasm overtaking you. Your entire body shook and he pressed kisses on your damp forehead, slowly moving inside you to draw every last drop of cum from you.

Shawn had awaken that demon deep inside that you weren’t even aware was there. You needed more.

“I need more,” you moaned, voice shaky.

With that invitation, he increased the pace, thrusting harder and deeper. The headboard slapped against the wall under the pressure, the whole floor probably heard, your nails dug into his back, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. “That’s it sweetheart, scratch my back,” his gruff voice said.

You were lost in the rhythm, your breath quickening, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

He was pounding you hard and relentless, sending waves of pleasure crashing over you. He pulled back slightly, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. His voice was a low growl as he murmured against your mouth, “You’re all mine. Mine to fuck and use now.”

A shiver of excitement raced through you, and he continued, “I want to hear you say it.”

“I’m all yours, Shawn,” you moaned, the words flowing from your lips as if they were the only truth that mattered.

“Such a good girl.” With a gasp, your body responded to his words, pleasure washing over you in waves as you squirted, soaking him completely. Shawn groaned in response, his grip on you tightening as he felt the warmth of your release.

“That’s so hot baby, that turned you on huh,” he said, now chasing his own orgasm as your body lay shaking underneath him.

You were too fucked out to answer, each deep thrust making your pussy throb around him.

He smirked, that infamous cocky smirk, clearly proud of how he had you at his mercy. He switched his pace, slow and deep, driving you both wild. It was as though he was proving a point to you. Showing you exactly who was fucking you and how good it felt.

You wrapped your legs around him tightly for a moment, pulling him closer before releasing them, spreading wider to accommodate him. The shift allowed him to plunge deeper, each stroke igniting a raw, primal desire within you. You gasped, the sensation overwhelming, and you met his movements with your own, grinding against him as he filled you.

“Just like that,” you urged, your voice thick with passion. “Please cum inside me.”

He couldn’t take it anymore. You words sent him over the edge and with a deep, guttural moan, he bucked his hips inside you, his hot cum filling you to the brim. You moaned in satisfaction, his cock throbbing and practically breeding you from how much he came—triggered your own orgasm.

Your body jolted beneath him, shaking from the pure intensity as you both were on cloud nine together.

“I’ve got you sweetheart, fuck, I can’t get enough of this pussy. I’ve got you,” he groaned.

Your body was still buzzing, your mind hazy as you lay against the soft sheets. Shawn pressed a kiss to your temple, his hands tracing slow, soothing patterns along your bare skin.

“You were incredible,” he murmured, voice deep. “So perfect for me.”

“I think that title belongs to you,” you teased, brushing your fingers along his jaw. “I mean, I just won the Women’s Championship and spent the night with you, I’m lucky.”

Shawn chuckled, shaking his head. “Nah, sweetheart, I’m the lucky one.” He kissed your forehead before slipping out of bed. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

You watched him disappear into the bathroom, and moments later, he returned with a warm cloth, carefully tending to you with the kind of gentleness that made your heart swell.

“Didn’t have to do that,” you smiled.

“I wanted to,” he replied simply.

Once he was done, he climbed back into bed, pulling you close against his chest. His arms wrapped around you securely, his body warm and solid against yours.

“You’re everything I thought you’d be,” you admitted softly, tucking your head under his chin. “And somehow even better.”

He sighed contentedly, his fingers tracing over your back. “And you’re even more perfect than I imagined,” he whispered. “Strong, talented, and so damn beautiful. I knew you were special the second I saw you wrestle.”

You smiled tiredly as you nestled further into him. The day had been surreal, from standing champion in the ring to this—wrapped up in the arms of the man who had been your childhood crush, your inspiration, and now, something more.

As your eyes grew heavier, Shawn pressed a final kiss to your hair, his voice a low murmur against your skin.

“Sweet dreams, champ.”

And with that, you let sleep take you, still wrapped in the warmth of the best night of your life.

[aquaholicsanonymousworld]

Fractured, But Not Broken

Pairing: Dr. Jack Abbot x Surgeon!Reader

Summary: Her and Jack were no strangers to trauma—what had happened to them still lingered in every quiet moment, in every unspoken word. Though they were together, an invisible wall stood between them, built by grief, guilt, and the inability to let go.

Author's note: Yes we only saw Dr. Abbot on screen for 0.5 seconds but those were the single most important 0.5 seconds of my life. Shawn Hatosy you've done it again.

Jack’s hands were steady as he worked, but his mind wasn’t. The trauma bay was controlled chaos—blood, voices, the sharp scent of antiseptic mixing with the coppery tang of iron. It was nothing he hadn’t handled before. But this case—this patient—was different.

Because it was too familiar.

The injuries. The circumstances. The way her voice cracked when she called out vitals.

He didn’t look at her, couldn’t, but he felt her presence beside him like a phantom limb, an aching reminder of everything left unsaid.

“Jack,” a nurse prompted, breaking through the haze. His jaw clenched, and he forced himself back into the present, back into the procedure, back into what he could control.

It wasn’t enough.

The summer heat pressed against Jack’s skin as he stood on the hospital rooftop, hands gripping the railing. The city sprawled below, indifferent to the weight pressing down on his chest. He barely registered the footsteps behind him until a familiar voice cut through the thick, humid air.

“Jack,” Dr. Robby’s voice was steady but firm, the way it always was when things were at their worst. “You don’t want to do this.”

Jack let out a breath, shaky, uneven. "I must have had a reason at one time to keep coming back. But I can't think of it right now."

Robby stepped closer, cautious but unwavering. "Because this is the job that keeps giving. Nightmares, ulcers, suicidal tendencies. Besides, if you jump on my shift, that's just rude, man."

Jack huffed out a bitter laugh, finally turning toward Robby. "I hope I'm never one of your patients."

Robby smirked, the weight of the moment pressing down on them both. "That makes two of us, my friend."

They stood there for a long moment before Robby finally said, “Let’s go back inside.”

Jack nodded, barely, but it was enough.

The elevator doors slid open, and she nearly walked straight into them. Her pulse was still hammering, her hands still damp from scrubbing out. The adrenaline from the OR hadn’t even settled when she had heard the words: Your husband is on the roof.

She had barely finished scrubbing out before sprinting to the elevators, only to find them now stepping off, looking worse for wear.

She plastered on a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. "Dr. Robby, Dr. Abbot—what an unexpected encounter!" She took a step forward, gaze fixed on Jack. "Speaking of the unexpected, imagine finding yourself elbow deep in someone’s sternum when a nurse casually informs you that your husband is on the roof, about to jump."

Jack winced. Robby cleared his throat. “I’ll, uh… let you two talk.” And with that, he walked off, leaving them alone in the hallway.

She took a shaky breath, then, without thinking, latched onto the front of his scrubs and pulled herself into him. Her grip was tight, grounding. "What the hell, Jack?"

He looked away. “I—I wasn’t going to. I just needed—”

“What? Air? A better view?” She ran a hand through her hair, taking a step back as she exhaled sharply. “You scared the hell out of me.”

His gaze finally met hers, something fractured but pleading beneath it. “I don’t know how to make it stop.”

Her expression softened, just slightly. “Then let me help you.”

A long silence stretched between them. It wasn’t an answer, not yet. But it was something.

“This isn’t working,” she said, voice barely above a whisper. “We keep running in circles, Jack. We don’t talk about it, we don’t deal with it—we just let it fester. And I can’t do it anymore.”

His fists tightened at his sides. “I don’t know how to fix it.”

Her breath hitched. “Then just feel it. Stop shutting me out.”

Something inside him snapped. “You think I don’t feel it?” His voice was sharp, raw. “Every day, I wake up and it’s still there. You—us—what happened. I can’t erase it, and I sure as hell can’t move on like it didn’t shape everything that came after.”

A beat of silence. Then, a step closer. Then another.

And suddenly, it wasn’t silence between them anymore—it was the weight of everything they hadn’t said, crashing down all at once.

[wallofchynax]

WILDEST DREAMS

Synopsis: You're a sweet naive college girl who gets dragged to a wrestling show by your best friend. What you didn't know is that a certain Heartbreak Kid had his eyes on you as soon as you stepped into the afterparty bar and had his heart set on ruining you in the best way possible (Requested. Thank you for the request <3)

got a request? send it over to me <3

content warnings: alcohol, shawn being a menace, PiV sex, virginity, corruption, lots of pet names, creampies, overstimulation.

The bar was packed with rowdy wrestling fans buzzing from the nights show. Music was loud, the drinks were flowing and somewhere in all of this, you were trying to keep up with your friends who seemed much more comfortable in this enviroment than you were.  

“I can’t believe we are actually here,” Your best friend buzzed next to you as she leaned against the bar, “Do you know what this means? We might actually get to see some of the hot guys here,” 

A thought that hadn’t even crossed your mind until now. You weren’t all that much of a wrestling fan. You knew the big names, but you had been to enough shows to know who who was, and there was only one person on your mind who you wouldn’t have minded seeing.  

And that was Shawn Michaels. You had seen him at a few shows. He was cocky, arrogant and rude. The way he was booed by the fans and yet still was able to crack jokes, dance and strip as if he was bringing the house down. You guessed that maybe in a way, he was but it just seemed far removed from your experience. You were, by all accounts, a good girl who wouldn’t say boo to a ghost.  

However, you thought a lot about the Heartbreak Kid. He was handsome but his attitude maybe wasn’t your cup of tea. But you didn’t need to wonder for long. Because as you turned back toward the crowd, there he was. Shawn Michaels, in the flesh. 

He was leaning against the bar just a few feet away, drink in hand, wearing casual normal clothes but he still looked very much like a male model. His hair was slightly damp, either from sweat or from a post-match shower, and his eyes were scanning the room. 

And then his eyes landed on you. 

You were like a deer in headlights. But instead of looking away, your eyes watched him. You weren’t even dressed provocatively. Maybe not like a wrestling fan. A casual dress and a pair of boots but you weren’t dressed like you were wanting a hook up. And yet, you seen the way his eyes lingered. 

Oh dear. 

Shawn caught you staring at him and tilting his head, like he was already entertained by your reaction.  

“I... I need to go to the bathroom,” you said, cutting off your friends talking before getting up. You didn’t look at him again, but you could feel his eyes burning into your skull as you got up from your seat and through the crowd and to the bathroom. Thankfully, you weren’t followed as you went inside to hide; by pretending to fix your makeup so other people didn’t think you were having a crisis in the bathroom.  

Okay, Shawn Michaels might have been looking at you, but he might not have been. You didn’t know. You didn’t go out to clubs very often and to be fair, you were surrounded by your friends so maybe he was watching one of them.  

Yeah. After all, they were the big fans out of you and your friends. That wouldn’t be fair to bag a wrestler when you weren’t even all that much into it. Sighing, you decided you should maybe emerge from the bathroom and... 

Standing outside, waiting for you, leaning up against a wall...  

Shawn Michaels.  

You stopped.  

He grinned, pushing himself off the wall and approaching you.  

"Well, well," he said, still watching you. "Ain’t you just a sweet little thing?" 

You looked around. Was he talking to you? 

You didn’t know what to do. Your heart was racing, your face burning, and Shawn was still watching you, like he was waiting to see what you’d do next. 

“You wanna drink, sweetheart?” His voice was smooth, teasing. “Or do you just like staring?” 

Your throat went dry. The way he was looking at you made you feel exposed, like he could already tell you weren’t like the women who usually threw themselves at him. 

The worst part was that the shyness? He liked it a lot. 

“Come on, don’t be shy,” He reached out his hand, “I don’t bite,” 

He was close. You could smell his cologne among the smell of the club. This was a very, very bad idea.  

But you found yourself nodding, taking his hand very uncertainly much to his delight. 

“That’s a girl...” 

You looked towards your friends who were watching you hold his hand. Your best friend was grinning at you and mouthing something along the lines of Oh my god! Just talk to him!” as he turned and took you through the crowded club and to the bar. You were now seperated from your friends and now completely alone with Shawn Michaels who was buying you a drink. You didn’t really know what he was buying you but he said it was something to help you loosen up whatever that meant.  

Huh. 

“I...I’m not really sure what to say,” you admitted, looking at your glass.  

Shawn chuckled, setting his own drink down on the bar. He turned to face you fully, leaning in just slightly but enough that you could feel your pulse in your ears. He smelt so good – leather, cologne and something that was so uniquely Shawn.  

“You don’t gotta say anything,” He said, “I already like you the way that you are,” 

Oh. 

The way he was currently looking at you, like you were prey that he was circling, made your stomach flip. Too intense. Too knowing.  

“I... don’t really do this,” You admitted, glancing away from him 

“Do what?” 

“Talk to guys like you.” 

Shawn let out a low laugh, shaking his head like he found that adorable. “Guys like me, huh?” 

You could feel the heat in your cheeks. “You know what I mean.” 

He grinned, tilting his head. “Nah, sweetheart. I don’t.” 

You fidgeted with your hands, “I mean...guys who are, you know, famous...and older...and...” You trailed off, not really sure how to finish your sentence. 

Shawn was eating it up. Your nervousness lighting a fire in him that was hard to ignore. 

“You can say it,” he teased, “You think I’m trouble,” 

You nodded way too quickly, making him laugh again. 

“Ain’t nothing wrong with a little trouble,” he murmured, reaching for his drink again. “Long as you know how to handle it.” 

His eyes raked over you, taking in your nervous posture, the way you kept glancing away like you were afraid of getting caught. He loved it and you could tell. The innocence. The hesitation. It was exactly what made you different from the women who usually surrounded him. 

And Shawn Michaels loved the idea of ruining good things. 

“You’re nervous,” he observed, amused. “That’s cute.” 

“What if I don’t want trouble?” you asked, trying to ignore the way that your heart was hammering but Shawn merely laughed. 

“Then,” he began, “You shouldn’t be looking at me like that,” 

You immediately looked away, which only made him laugh again. 

“You’re adorable,” he said, leaning in slightly more, “Tell you what, how about you drink with me, hm? No harm in that, right?”  

You took a sip of your drink. Your heart was pounding in your chest. You knew this was a bad idea. A bad idea. However, as you watched him watch you, you realised you didn’t want it to stop. Not yet. The drink in your hand was much heavier than it should have been. You didn’t drink often, maybe one or two but right now, sitting at the bar with him, you felt like it was a lifeline.  

Shawn was completely relaxed though. Elbows rested on the bar with one knee turned towards you like he had all the time in the world to watch and enjoy you. His own drink was in his hand, because he was much more interested in watching you.  

“You don’t drink much, do you?” 

You shook your head, “Not really,” 

Shawn grinned, “That’s cute...” 

Cute. He kept calling you cute like a compulsion. Like he just couldn’t help himself.  

“You don’t got to be all shy, sweetheart,” he coaxed, nudging his drink towards you, “Go on, loosen up a little bit,” 

You glanced at him. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to drink. It was that you were so hyper aware of who you were drinking with. He knew that, of course he did.  

“C’mon,” Shawn encouraged, tilting his head, “Let’s have a little fun,” 

You took another sip. The alcohol burned down and you scrunched your nose up. Of course, Shawn chuckled at this. 

“That’s adorable,” He shook his head, taking a sip of your own drink.  

Your face burned. “What?” 

“You,” he said, shaking his head. “You’re just so… damn sweet.” 

You looked away, embarrassed, but he wasn’t done with you yet. 

“You’re not used to this, huh?” he teased, eyes gleaming. 

“This?” 

“Drinking’.” His smirk deepened. “Me.” 

Your heart stopped and you wanted to throw yourself out of the window.  

“See” Shawn grinned, “You get all shy when I say it out loud,” 

“That...” You said, shaking your head despite your cheeks getting all flushed, “That’s not true!” 

“Oh, but it is,” Shawn chuckled, leaning in some more, “But it’s real cute, baby,” 

Baby.  

You were so screwed.  

Shawn watched you like a man completely entertained, like you were the most fascinating thing in the room. The bar felt warmer now. Maybe it was the alcohol settling in your stomach, or maybe it was the way Shawn Michaels was watching you, like he was enjoying every little nervous fidget, every shy glance away. 

You took another sip, smaller this time, but Shawn still noticed. 

“Atta girl,” he murmured, tilting his glass toward you before taking a slow drink of his own. 

That damn smirk was still on his face. Like he had all the patience in the world to pull you into this little game of his. 

You cleared your throat. 

“So, you like drinking with random girls after shows,”  

“Nah,” Shawn chuckled, swirling the liquor in his glass, “Nah. I like drinking with you,” 

That was too smooth, too fucking smooth.  

Shawn leaned in just a little bit closer, close enough that you caught the scene of his cologne, the warmth of him just inches away, “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” You’re looking at me as if I said something real dangerous,” 

Your drink was almost gone now, and you had no idea when that happened. Maybe it was because he made you so nervous you kept drinking just to do something with your hands. 

And Shawn, being Shawn, noticed. 

“You’re keepin’ up real good,” he said, eyes flickering to your glass. “Didn’t think you had it in you.” 

Your pride flared at that. “I can handle my liquor just fine.” 

Why did you say that? Because now he was laughing at you again like you had just said the funniest thing in the world that night, “Oh, baby. You’re just makin’ this too easy...” 

“What does that mean?” 

He took a slow sip, watching you over the rim of his glass like a cat playing with its food.  

“I mean, I could sit here all night, just watching you get flustered but...” He began, “I think I’d rather see what you’re like when you relax,” 

What does that even MEAN?  

Shawn tilted his head, studying you. “What are you so nervous about, huh? It’s just a drink. Just a little fun.” 

You hesitated. “I don’t know if I—” 

“You do.” His voice was so sure, so confident. “You just don’t know if you should.” 

He had you. 

Your stomach twisted. You should leave. 

But you didn’t. 

Instead, you let him pour you another drink. Shawn smiled as you picked it up, watching the way your fingers curled around the glass. Like he had just won something. 

“There you go,” he murmured, voice like silk. “Now, let’s see if you can really keep up.” 

You swallowed hard. This was a mistake. 

But you still took another sip. The room was buzzing, but all you could hear was him. 

Shawn’s voice was in your head, curling around your thoughts, making you dizzy, or maybe that was the alcohol, sinking into your bloodstream faster than you were used to. You should stop. You should 100% stop and go back to your best friend who you were sure left you to drink with Shawn. You were beginning to sway. 

But then Shawn leaned in, close enough that his breath ghosted against your skin, and rational thought disappeared. 

“You’re getting real cute now,” he murmured, watching the way you swayed slightly in your seat. “Little flushed. Little shy. Think I like you like this.” 

Your fingers curled against the bar top. “I’m....I don’t...” 

Shawn chuckled, tipping his drink back before setting it down, his fingers idly tapping against the glass as he studied you. “You don’t what, sweetheart?” 

Your breath caught. He knew exactly what he was doing. 

“I don’t… usually drink this much.” 

Shawn grinned. “Oh, I can tell.” 

Heat flared in your face. He was enjoying this. 

“You don’t gotta look so guilty,” he teased. “Ain’t nothing wrong with cutting’ loose every once in a while.” 

His voice was so smooth, so easy, like he was talking about something completely harmless. But his eyes told a different story. 

Shawn Michaels was looking at you like he wanted to eat you alive. 

Your pulse kicked up, and you instinctively reached for your drink again, taking another slow sip just to steady yourself. 

“That’s it, baby,” he murmured, voice dropping just slightly. “Get nice and relaxed for me.” 

This was dangerous. 

And you wanted more. 

“I think—” You swallowed, heart pounding. “I think you like messing with me.” 

Shawn laughed, slow and lazy. “You just now figuring that out?” 

You stared at him, breath coming a little quicker now. You should walk away. You should say goodnight. 

Instead, you leaned in. 

You didn’t know what possessed you to do it. M aybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the way he was looking at you, like he already knew how this night was gonna end. 

Shawn noticed immediately. 

“Oh, look at you,” he purred, tilting his head. “Finally gettin’ brave on me.” 

You opened your mouth to deny it, but Shawn was already moving. 

His hand brushed against your thigh—barely there, just enough to feel it. 

You sucked in a sharp breath, but he didn’t move away. Didn’t let you go. 

“You still nervous, sweetheart?” His voice was softer now, more intimate. Like it was just you and him in this bar. 

Your heart hammered.  

“I... Yeah...” 

Shawn smirked. “That’s cute.” 

His fingers ghosted higher, teasing, testing—watching to see if you’d stop him. 

You didn’t.  

“That’s my girl,” he murmured, voice low and dangerous, as he reached for your hand. 

Your breath hitched when his fingers curled around yours, strong, sure, unshakable. 

You had no idea how it happened—one second you were at the bar, the next, you were outside, pressed up against the cool metal of a sleek black car. 

Shawn caged you in without even trying, one hand braced against the roof, his body just close enough to let you feel the heat radiating off him. 

“You still with me, sweetheart?” His voice was slow, teasing, but his eyes, his eyes were hungry. 

Your breath came a little too fast. “Y-yeah.” 

Shawn chuckled, reaching for the door handle. “Good girl. Get in.”

The drive was a blur. 

You could still feel the burn of liquor in your throat, the buzz in your limbs, the way your pulse pounded every time Shawn’s fingers brushed against your thigh, deliberate and slow, like he was reminding you exactly who was in control. By the time you reached the hotel, your heart was hammering. Shawn barely looked back as he led you through the lobby, like he’d done this a million times before. Maybe he had. You didn’t care. 

His room was massice. A suite with a plus carpet, soft golden lighting and a bed that was so big it was almost ridiculous.  

Then, that was when you felt him. 

Shawn moved in behind you, slow and deliberate, his fingers brushing over your arm before sliding up your shoulder. 

You swallowed hard. 

“Yes...I am,” 

Shawn made a low pleased sound, his breath ghosting over your neck. Your back was pressing against his chest, warm and solid.  

“Cute...” he murmered, “You don’t have to be. You trust me, right?” 

The question made your breath hitch as his hands slid down your arm. Slowly, rousing, waiting.  

He could feel you trembling and that...was fucking hot to him. 

“I think so,” you admitted. 

“Good enough for me,” 

That was when he turned you around and you barely had any time to think before he kissed you. It wasn’t soft or sweet. It was deep, slow and claiming. It was like from the moment he laid his eyes on you, he decided he had to make you his and there was no going back from here. Hot and demanding, like he had been waiting for this moment all night.  

His hands were holding onto your hips, firm and possessive as he had you flush against him. The heat of him was overwhelming. Your fingers curled onto the soft fabric of his shirt, nails were digging slightly and he lowly growled. A low sound that gave you butterflies.  

“Fuck...” his voice was heavy against your lips, “You taste so fucking sweet, baby,” 

His words made your whole body burn.  

You barely had a moment to think when his hands were on the move, sliding down the curve of your waist before gripping the backs of your thighs and then, you gasped as he lifted you off the floor.  

“Sh-Shawn!” 

“Shhh,” He whispered against your lips, effortlessly carrying you to the bed, “Don’t worry, I got you,” 

The next thing you knew, you were on the mattress, sinking into the plush sheets as Shawn hovered over you, that damn smirk still playing on his lips. 

“You’re real pretty, you know that?” His voice was low, rough, his fingers tracing the hem of your shirt. “Bet you’ve never had anyone tell you that the way you should.” 

You sucked in a breath, your entire body thrumming. 

Shawn’s fingers brushed higher, teasing your skin. “I can make you feel really good, baby.” 

You swallowed hard. “I...I don’t know what to do.” 

His lips ghosted over your jaw, down to your throat. “That’s the best part.” 

He kissed you there, slow, open-mouthed, just to feel you shiver. 

“You just let me take care of you,” he murmured, his voice dropping even lower. “Let me ruin you a little.” 

Shawn pulled back just enough to see the way your lips parted, the way your body melted into his touch. 

“Yeah,” he whispered, half-drunk on the sight of you. “That’s my good girl.” His hands slid under your shirt, slow and teasing as they trailed under your skin.  

“Shawn...” 

He hushed you with a slow drag of his lips against your throat, teasing, tasting, “Relax...let me take care of you,” 

His hands roamed higher, pushing up your shirt inch by inch, exposing more of you to the cool air of the hotel room. He was taking his time, enjoying the way you squirmed under his touch, the way your breath caught. 

“You’re enjoying this are you?” He murmured against your skin, his voice dripping with amusement, “You wanna be a good girl for me?” 

You couldn’t even form words, especially when Shawn is pressing his fingers dangerously below your waistband. 

“I think you do...” He slid his hand into your jeans, cupping over the front of your panties. A gasp left your lips, your hips instinctively twitching against his arm. This made Shawn groan feeling you were driving him insane right now. This made him kiss you again, hungrier, rougher as his fingers pressed against the growing head between your legs.  

“So soft...so wet...You really were waiting for me to touch you, weren’t you,” 

Your cheeks burned, mortified by how easily he was making you come undone. Before you could reply, he pushed your jeans down, along with your panties and before you could even process what was going on, he was on his knees between your legs. The sight alone made you feel dizzy. Then, his mouth was on you. Your back arched off the bed as his tongue traced slow, deliberate circles over your clit, taking his time, savoring every little sound you made. He hummed against you, the vibration sending a shockwave of pleasure up your spine. 

 His hands gripped your thighs, keeping you in place as he devoured you, flicking his tongue in just the right way before pulling back slightly to smirk up at you. 

 “You taste so fuckin’ sweet, baby.” His voice was gravelly, wrecked. “Bet you’ve never had anyone eat you like this before.” 

You could barely breathe, let alone answer. 

Shawn didn’t wait. 

He dipped his head again, this time sucking your clit into his mouth, and you cried out, hands tangling in his hair, desperate, needing something to hold onto. He moaned against you, clearly loving every second of this, his tongue lapping you up like he was starving for it. 

 And then, one of his fingers slid inside you. Your whole body jerked, but Shawn’s grip held you steady as he slowly pumped his finger in and out, stretching you, teasing you open. 

“Shit, baby,” he groaned, his lips slick against your skin. “So fuckin’ tight.” 

 He added a second finger, curling them just right, hitting a spot that made your vision go white. 

“Shawn, oh my God-” 

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he rasped, his pace quickening, his mouth working you over like he was determined to make you fall apart. “Give it to me.” 

And when he sucked on your clit again, everything snapped. 

Your orgasm hit you like a train, your body arching, shaking, a loud, desperate moan spilling from your lips as Shawn groaned against you, his grip tightening like he was holding on for the ride. 

“You’re looking so fucking pretty like this...” He looked like he had been getting drunk off of the taste of your pussy. Your body was flushed but you knew that Shawn wasn’t done with you... because when he got up on the balls of his feed, you saw the bulge straining in his jeans.  

When he saw you staring, his smirk turned wicked. 

“Don’t worry baby,” he said, beginning to undo his belt slowly, teasing you as your eyes never left his crotch, “We’re just getting started...” 

You knew what was coming but even when he pushed his jeans and boxers down enough, your mouth went dry. 

He was big.  

Thick, flushed and rock hard, standing against his stomach with beads of precum already glistening from the tip. He saw the way your eyes widened, and god, he looked like he was having the time of his life. 

“Ain’t so nervous now, huh?” He teased, stroking himself lazily but you couldn’t look away even if you wanted to and he noticed. 

“You want to touch it, sweetheart?” 

You swallowed hard and nodded, “I don’t know how...” but regardless of your words, you reached toward, and his hand reached out to guide yours. Your fingers curled around his length, and his breath hitched, his hips giving a tiny involuntary jerk at the contact. 

“Fuck, baby.” His voice dropped, rough and wrecked. “That’s it.” 

You hesitated at first, your strokes shy, uncertain. His head tipped back slightly, jaw clenched as his hand covered yours to set the rhythm. 

“Just like that...” he groaned, hips rolling into your touch. The sounds he were making were low, desperate and needy, sending pools of head between your thighs all over again.  

However, Shawn had decided that he had enough and with one swift motion, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you away and pinned you to the bed, hovering over you. 

“Are you ready for me?” 

It was hard to think of the answer when you felt the tip of his cock sliding against your soaked folds, teasing you and coating himself in your wetness. 

You didn’t need to answer. All you did was lift your hips instinctively. So, he pushed inside. You gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders as he stretched you open, inch by inch, filling you completely. 

“Shhh, sweetheart,” he cooed, his voice shaking with restraint. “I got you.” 

His lips brushed your jaw, your throat, kissing you through the burn, through the overwhelming sensation of being so full of him. 

When he was fully seated inside you, he stilled, sucking in a sharp breath. You couldn’t think of anything. All you could focus on was how good Shawn felt inside of you.  How much you enjoyed the feeling of him stretching you out.  

“Fuck,” he muttered, voice raspy. “So fuckin’ tight.” 

You whimpered, your walls fluttering around him. 

“Oh, baby. You’re gonna ruin me.” 

And then he started moving. 

Slow at first, deep, deliberate thrusts, making sure you felt every inch of him. 

You cried out, hands clutching at his back, overwhelmed by the way he stretched and filled you so perfectly. Your nails were digging into his shoulders which made him groan as his pace began to quicken as one hand was at one side of your head and the other one was holding your hips in place. 

“That’s it, baby,” he praised, voice thick with lust and possession. “Take me. Just like that.” 

He was relentless now driving into you harder, faster, deeper, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. 

Every thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure through you, every roll of his hips hitting you in just the right spot. That familiar spot that made you see stars 

“Sh-Shawn...please!” 

“I know, sweetheart,” he groaned, his hand slipping between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit. 

He rubbed tight perfect circles that matched his thrusts as his thrusts got rougher and harder, slamming into your sweet spot. 

“You gonna cum for me baby?” he said, voice against your lips as raspy as sin, “Wanna feel my good girl cum on my cock...” 

He slammed himself into you just right with his fingers pressing down and then it happened. Your second orgasm crashed over you as your body clenching, trembling and shaking as the pleasure was all consuming. Shawn cursed, likely feeling your cunt clench around him, buried his face against your neck as his face became erratic and desperate.  

“Fuck baby...” he groaned, his cock twitching deep inside you, “Gonna fill your sweet pussy up...” 

And then it happened. With a deep, guttural moan, spilling himself entirely inside of you. You could feel him fill you up making your eyes flutter delightfully. The only sound left in the room was the heavy panting of two bodies completely wrecked. 

Shawn didn’t pull away immediately. 

He stayed there, still inside you, pressing lazy kisses against your damp skin. 

“Damn,” he finally muttered, voice hoarse, satisfied. 

You couldn’t speak. Could barely breathe. And Shawn? Well, he just smirked against your throat. 

“Told you a little trouble wouldn’t hurt.” 

[crazyk-imagine]

Kicking and Newfound Spouses

Pairing: Shawn Hunter x Female!reader

Characters: Shawn Hunter, Female!reader, Cory Matthews, Topanga Lawrence, Jack Hunter

Warnings: Fluff, Cory being a dramatic bish, Panga is our homie, Jack is clueless, Shawn just wants his lady love, Eric is not mentioned but hiding somewhere in the scene, this was fun, I wanted to write for this fandom for a while, my baby bad boy hunter for the win, shawn introducing himself is an inside joke

Word Count: 570

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You sit at the corner booth in your favorite restaurant, enjoying the quietness at your table even as the noise around you gets louder.

-

Shawn looks to his left and finds you, sitting there looking as pretty as ever.

Cory catches his gaze and realizes what, more like who, he’s looking at.

He shakes his head, “hey, Shawn.”

His friend turns to look at him.

“No.”

He pouts.

-

Topanga slips away from the two and wanders towards your table.

-

“Remember when we were ten and turned eleven?”

“Vaguely but go on.”

“She kicked you out of your chair because you called her essay messy. Are you- are you still with me here?”

“I am but I don’t see your point.”

“She will kick you out of your chair again, Shawn.”

“And I’ll lay on the floor a happy man.” He all but runs away from Cory.

-

“Hey," he slips in beside you. “Shawn hunter at your service,” he holds his hand out to you.

You glance at it and his face and can’t understand why he’s at the booth or trying to persuade you. “To what? Fail?”

He furrows his brows confused by your comment, most girls would start swooning over him by now.

He shakes his head and continues. “No, to study.”

-

Cory stands in the corner still, biting his nails. “He's lost it.”

-

“You’ve never once studied in your life, Hunter. What makes you think I’d want to study with you now?”

“It’ll be a date you won’t forget,” he tells you with one hundred percent certainty.

You take a deep breath, “I’ll admit that was a little smooth on your part, kudos to you but I can’t take that chance right now. I’m trying to get a good grade.”

“What about after?”

“After what?”

“The test. I want to go out with you.” You glance at Topanga from the corner of your eye, needing some reassurance that what he’s saying is real and not a joke.

You angle yourself to face him, “if there was ever a time where I’d say yes, which I haven’t yet, what would you be willing to do in order for that date to happen?”

He takes a deep breath, “I’ll let you kick me out of this booth.”

The corner of your lips twitch. “You two can’t let that go, huh.”

“No, Cory’s traumatized by it but for me, that was the day I knew I met someone who I’d be happy calling my wife.”

Your eyes widen and you can’t help but chuckle.

He always knew the things to say to get a response out of you.

“Deal.” You hold your hand out for him to shake.

He shakes your hand and places a soft kiss on the back of it before letting you kick him out.

“My butt might be sore later, but I’m not upset about it.”

-

Jack leans down to ask Cory, “did he just let someone kick him out of a booth?”

The younger man nods his head, “he told her to.”

“I’m afraid to ask but why?”

“They’re going on a date.”

“Oh. Oh. He does realize that’s not how you ask a girl out, right?”

“He has his methods, and you have yours.”

[quickestgold]

Goodbye, My Lover | Part 2 | The Pitt

Pairing: Dr. Jack Abbot x Dr. (Ex-Mil)!Reader x Dr. Michael 'Robby' Robinavitch

Chapter 2: Please Forgive Me

Synopsis: When Robby and Jack find you, old wounds reopen, as guilt and regret threaten to tear apart what’s left of your fractured relationships. As your hearts reconnect in an unexpected moment of closeness, long-buried feelings begin to resurface and the possibility of forgiveness feels closer than ever.

Warnings: Age gap is around 18 years. This series will deal with some heavy themes around a physical attack, death, grief, ptsd, panic attacks, s*icidal tendencies, heartbreak >>> comfort at the end, I promise

Word count: 1463

A/n: How are you even supposed to choose between these two, like hello? Anyway, we'll find out soon won't we... Next chapter is heavyyy

Previous Chapter (1): I Love You | Next Chapter (3): I Forgive You

Robby and Jack find you slumped in an alley, unmoving, propped against the cold building facade.

Jack is instantly by your side, rubbing your sternum forcefully, desperate for a response, anything.

Robby's fingers press against the side of your neck, terrified of what he might find, or not. "Y/N?" He opens your eyelids, blinding you with a penlight.

You groan, barely audible “Stop.”

“Y/N, you with us?” Jack huffs, ridden with anxiety.

“I’m fine.” You say louder, pushing their hands away.

Relief washes over them, but it doesn't last long.

“Did you take something?” Robby scans the ground for anything that might explain this.

“What? No”, you plead, offended by the suggestion.

“What happened?” Jack's voice is softer now.

You blink, taking in your surroundings, not really sure yourself. “I must’ve passed out.”

Neither of the men speak, unsure whether to confess how badly they were spiralling when they couldn’t find you. Was it even their place to worry?

“I’m just so done”, you interrupt their thoughts.

“With what?” Robby inquires too quickly.

“Everything. This job. This hospital. Maybe this city.”

“This life?” Jack states flatly.

The bluntness shocks you. Robby as well, but he wonders too.

“N- No. You know I wouldn’t.” You stare into Jack's eyes, pleading for something unknown. Not after everything you’d gone through. You really wouldn’t. Does he believe you?

Jack turns his gaze away from you, as to somehow escape the conversation that had been building between you for a long time. Waiting to break. His mouth twists downwards. A tear gathers in his eye, the pain of losing you creeping in. There were a couple of close calls on the tours you spent together, but the day he nearly lost you, broke him.

Robby knows some of the details of your relationship, but the depth of the pain and unresolved sadness between you leaves him speechless.

The tension is palpable. It’s only now, in this moment, that you all realize how much you’ve hurt each other without even meaning to.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Both of you”, your eyes flicker to Robby’s.

The moment lingers in heavy silence.

“Why did you come back here?” Robby asks.

You wonder whose idea it was to search for you here. Probably Jack, right? His ability to keep a clear head and to stay calm in the most impossible situations always shocked you. But equally, his stoic demeanor drove you crazy, especially when it came to letting you in and dealing with your past together.

Maybe it was Robby. Robby would panic, but then analyse the situation at hand and find a solution. Always.

Now you needed to know.

“How did you find me?” You ask, disregarding their earlier question.

“Dana”, they answer in perfect unison.

You give a soft smile and though the situation is heavy, it’s enough to make Robby and Jack’s hearts melt. The warmth in your eyes brings an unexpected tenderness, like a comforting embrace for the soul and before they can help it, both of them smile too.

You sit in the peaceful silence, the weight of everything feeling just a little bit lighter, as though the past has softened its grip on you all.

But all too soon, reality creeps back in.

“I didn’t know you come back here often", Jack's face grows serious again. "It seems… painful."

“Sometimes", you admit. "When I need to convince myself that an alley is just an alley...”

Talking about it hurts, but pretending it didn't happen is just as difficult. For them too.

You feel your hands tremble again, instinctively pulling them closer to your chest. But Robby notices, closing the distance between you and offering his shoulder. It’s the same comfort he always gave you, like second nature.

When he walked away, the void he left was unbearable.

But now he’s here.

You sink your forehead into the crook of his neck, taking slow, cleansing breaths. His familiar scent floods you, a quiet reminder of all the unexpressed love.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you”, Robby whispers, as you melt deeper into him, your heartbeat syncing with his.

Slowly, the panic subsides.

Jack watches you both, eyes hard, fighting his own memories.

It's an unusually quiet shift. The eerie kind where everyone's on edge, waiting for something to break.

You and Jack work a couple of cases together, like you usually do.

You were always a great team. Made each other better in ways few people understood. But Robby did. He always respected your deep bond, even when you and Robby were dating. It's the kind that runs deeper than friendship, deeper than love, it's survival. Maybe it's because Robby and Jack share their own connection, a brotherhood built on mutual trust and support.

Your breakup with Jack was mutual, the weight of your shared history and trauma made it inevitable. You both walked away, at different points, caught in your own separate battles. You saved lives together, but you also lost them. And in the process, you lost parts of yourselves too. You both gave so much to everyone else, there was nothing left to give each other. It wasn't anyone's fault.

Still, you can’t help but feel like it was yours. Like you destroyed something great. Not just with Jack, but with Robby too.

The breakup with Robby really tested everything. Words were said, hearts broken and neither of you knew how to navigate this new reality. Somehow, Jack found himself in the middle and all of you blamed yourselves.

You weren’t the one who left this time, but maybe you pushed Robby too hard, pressured him to open up when he wasn’t ready.

So you accepted Robby's decision and watched him leave.

You wonder if he expected you to fight for him, to not let him go so easily.

That day in the ER, Robby snaps at you. In front of everyone. In front of Jack.

Jack’s breath hitches, trying hard not to intervene. To say something. Why wouldn't he? It's you. But he doesn't. And for that he'd never forgive himself.

It's not rational. But later, when you're lying in that hospital bed, machines and monitors beeping in a faint rhythm, their minds force them to dissect every little detail that led up to what happened. As if that could somehow undo it.

“I am your attending. You are a resident. When I tell you to do something, you do it", Robby barks. "If you can't respect that, then maybe this hospital isn’t for you.”

You just look at him, incredulous. But he continues, louder.

“You’re acting like a fucking child!” Regret washes over him as soon as the words leave his mouth.

You rip off your gloves with a snap, glancing at Jack, daring - no - willing him to speak up. But part of you is glad he doesn't. This is between you and Robby. Deep down you know it isn’t personal, but it still hurts, so you decide to give both of you space.

“Dr. Robinavitch”, you say before walking out, unaware how that split decision would lead to you almost losing your life.

All three of you now lean against the building facade, a comforting familiarity between you.

Your breathing has steadied, but your eyes are still glazed. You look up at Robby. For a moment, you are back to being his. And he yours. He gives you a soft smile, the one that crinkles the corners of his eyes and your heart nearly bursts, memories rushing back.

You remember kissing every freckle on his forehead, tracing the lines of his skin. He always thought they made him look old. You agreed, which made him laugh. But you also thought they made him look kind. How fitting.

A shaky gasp cuts through your thoughts. Jack drops his head, one hand pressing against his eyes, desperate to hide the pain that tears through him.

“Jack?” You whisper, reaching for him.

Jack lets out a quiet sob, fighting every urge not to fall apart in front of you. He can't.

You grab both of his wrists, grounding him with your presence as you pull him into your chest. His head rests gently against your heart, a silent promise that he will always be part of it.

“Hey", you tilt your head, searching for his eyes. "I'm here."

Maybe you love him differently now, but the ache in your chest tells you that some bonds can't be broken.

“Please forgive me,” he begs, his voice breaking, as the weight of his pain truly hits you.

Thanks for reading part 2!! Oh boi, this was a sad one… and it’s only getting worse before it gets better is all I’m gonna say hehe. Pls share your thoughts, I love reading your comments!!

PS: Lmk if you want to be added to the taglist: ♡

@queenslandlover-93 @sp00kylesley @dark-twisted-and-mechanical-mind @sqrlgrl22 @imonmykneessir @gabsgabsvaz

[sweetiepoison]

Famous Baby (social media blurb)

Who’s (Y/f/n) (Y/l/n) Dating Now?

(Y/f/n) (y/l/n) has been in the spotlight since she was 15 so it’s no surprise her relationships have been as well. From first love to whirlwind romance , we’ve seen it all from the singing sensation. She’s mainly been in serious relationships, but the lineup is impressive.

Shawn Mendes

(Y/l/n) and Mendes came into the spotlight around the same time. The pair met, instantly hit it off, and became the new young Hollywood “it” couple. They dated for three years from 2014-2017 and wrote a few of their hit songs about each other. (Y/f/n)’s song ‘Dandelions’ on her debut album is about Mendes. The love wasn’t one sided though, as Mendes reveled many of his love songs were about (y/l/n). After winning an American Music Award, Mendes said, “All of my songs are about her, so this award is as much hers as it is mine, she’s my inspiration.

We loved watching their young love romance evolve, but the two split in early 2017. (Y/f/n) discussed the breakup on the Jimmy Fallon show. “We just realized we were growing apart and going in different directions, but he will always hold a special place in my heart as my first love and no can ever replace that.”

Harry Styles

The British singer is (y/l/n)’s longest and most high profile relationship. The two began dating at the end of 2017 and remained together for four years before breaking things off. Their love caught the attention of the world and had many talking. It’s believed Styles hit song, Adore you is about (y/l/n) before they were official.

The couple raised the bar for relationships. Harry took (y/f/n) on a vacation to Greece for her 21st birthday. Which she followed up by throwing him a massive surprise party with all of his close friends and family. When asked about their relationship in an interview (y/l/n) said, “Harry is the type of boyfriend girls dream of. He loves me so well and he wears his heart on his sleeves which is beautiful.”

The breakup came as a surprise to many as it seemed the couple was going strong. It didn’t last for long though as they got back together at the end of 2022 before finally calling it quits mid 2023. Neither have revealed why they split, but both have remained consistent and committed to supporting each other.

Michael B. Jordan

During her brief break with Harry, (y/f/n) dated Creed actor, Michael B. Jordan. Despite the 11 year age gap the couple had a lot in common and spent plenty of special occasions together. Jordan helped her celebrate her 24th birthday where we got their most infamous pictures together as a couple.

The relationship lasted 10 months before they broke up and (y/l/n) was back with Styles. Despite the sudden end Jordan had only good things to say, “She’s an amazing, hardworking woman who deserves all the success she’s had.”

Auston Matthews

The newest boyfriend on the list may be NHL superstar, Auston Matthews. An insider reveals they saw Matthews and (y/l/n) at a bar together in Toronto. They were with a group of friends including Justin and Hailey Bieber, but the two seemed particularly close. The pair was also spotted leaving together at the end of the night. While nothing is confirmed, we could definitely get behind this match.

[thepencilnerd]

Anatomy of Want | dr. jack abbot x reader (sneak peek)

Eyes dipped, then lifted again, something unspoken skating between you.

You cleared your throat. "How was your evening?"

Jack blinked at the pivot, letting it settle between you. "Uneventful."

"What were you doing at that bar?" you asked, an arch to your brow that softened the tension.

He allowed himself a grin, shoulders relaxing just slightly. "It’s my usual spot. Popular with the old folks."

"Samira did say it had a vintage charm to it when she picked it out," you replied with a smirk.

Jack scoffed at the poke at his age, making both of you laugh.

"Alright then," he countered, eyes narrowing with a spark of mischief. "What were you doing there?"

You hesitated, then exhaled a slow breath. "Ruining my chances of settling down."

His expression flickered.

"What?" You gave a half-laugh, smile twisted with self-deprecation. "Isn't that the whole point of dating as a doctor? Just a long game of figuring out how emotionally unavailable I still am and forever will be?"

Abbot sighed, long and quiet, like it came from somewhere deeper than just the moment.

You tilted your head slightly, watching him, curiosity tugging at your features. "Were you… waiting on someone?"

That gave him pause.

Jack stilled. The corner of his mouth twitched—not quite a frown, not quite a smile. His gaze didn’t meet yours at first. He looked past you, to the mouth of the alley, like the answer might be written in the shadows or the neon lights beyond. Like if he stalled long enough, you might forget you asked.

“I wasn’t,” he started, voice rougher than usual. “Not exactly.”

You lifted a brow.

He exhaled again, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “I didn’t come here for that. But when I saw you…” He trailed off, eyes finally locking onto yours. “Guess I started waiting.”

Your breath caught. The weight of his words settled in your chest—slow and warm and heavy. Something about the way he said it made it feel less like a confession and more like an inevitability.

He’d been waiting. Watching. Wanting. The same way you’d been tiptoeing around the truth since you'd stepped foot into that ER—since the very first time your fingers brushed as he passed you a chart, since the first time your eyes met across the trauma bay, since that first quiet moment together on the roof.

[mendesblurb]

We were staying in Paris

Shawn Mendes x female reader

Warning ⚠️: mostly fluff, maybe grammar error and maybe some punctuation errors

Word count:~500

A/N: The story idea and concept are classic and predictable; your girl just couldn’t help but write something inspired by this picture. Also, it’s three weeks late; better late than never? And this is my first story in 2024? 🙈 P.S. Should I write a longer and maybe some more steamy story with this picture? 🤪

——//

In the heart of Paris, in a hotel room with a balcony overlooking the city that served as the backdrop for a love story as it was unfolding in the early hours of dawn. You lay nestled in the warmth of the bed beside your boyfriend as your fingers intertwined with his. As the first tendrils of sunlight filtered through the curtains, Shawn stirred awake, his eyes blinking open to the soft glow of morning. 

He savoured the moment's stillness a little while before gently extricating himself from the embrace, slipping out of bed, and heading to the bathroom. The cool floor beneath his bare feet offers a refreshing contrast to the warmth of the bed. He was going to return to bed, but instead, he made his way to the balcony, drawn by the promise of a tranquil morning amidst the bustling city below.

As he leaned against the railing, taking in the breathtaking view before him, he couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of the Parisian skyline bathed in the soft hues of dawn. The Eiffel Tower stood tall and majestic in the distance, a precious sight. Lost in thought, he reached for a cigarette, the flame casting a flickering glow on his face as he took a contemplative drag.

Unbeknownst to him, you had stirred awake in his absence, your gaze lingering on the spot where he had once laid.

There you were, quietly making your way to the balcony, and you found him lost in reverie with the smoke curling around him like a halo in the morning light. With a soft throat clearing, you announced your presence, a playful glint dancing in your eyes.

"Good morning, stranger," You greeted, voice laced with amusement as you wrapped your arms around him from behind.

A little startled, he turned to find you standing before him, a radiant smile lighting up her features as he leaned in for a kiss.

"Good morning, ma chÃrie," He greeted back before discarding his cigarette and nestling closer. It didn’t take long for his eyes to linger around you, and eventually falling upon the shirt you were wearing, a mischievous twinkle lighting up his gaze, “I believe that’s my shirt.” 

"Oh yeah, I hope you don't mind," You began, fingers tracing the fabric of the shirt, "I may have borrowed this from you,” You continued slyly as your lips curled into a grin as he took in the sight of you wearing his shirt, the fabric draping over your frame in a way that seemed almost too perfect.

"Shirt stealer," he remarked, his voice tinged with sincerity as he reached out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

Moments later, as the sun continued its ascent, casting a golden glow over the city, you both remained on the balcony, lost in each other's embrace and the beauty of the Parisian sunrise. 

"By the way, I'm never returning this shirt,” You added, breaking the silence with a mischievous grin. 

In response, Shawn just chuckled, his eyes sparkling with affection, “Thank you for letting me know," he replied, pulling  you closer than before, “But It looks better on you anyway."

——————————————————————————

Thank you for reading guys... feel free to like, reblog, follow my account, leave a comment and my chat is always open for random chats or requests... appreciate every single one of you... ❤️

Taglist (open) : @monikamendes @holland-styles @bvttercupbby @lonelyreputation @badreputationlove @shawn-is-my-giant-jellybean @benito-mi-vida @swiftmendeshoran @yournameoneverypage @shawn-is-bruh @mendesbhraanth @perfectlywrongformendes @imaginashawnn @smendes-forever @nervousmendes @whenyoureadyholland @shawn-youth @myboyshawn @camilalewiss @camilalewisss @theregoesmyherojd @nanijaac1 @shawnieeboyy @silverswallow @inlovewithmendes-blog @mendeslola-blog @mendesx123 @23kofmendes @jellyloml @chipofmendes @poohofmendes @wutheringmendes @shawnmendesbuddy @chocochipcookie305 @shiningshawns

Story Code:05042409

[jimsbeetroot]

Hello dear! how are you? hope ok <3 i really love your writing and would love to ask you for a smut request (only if you want) i would like it to be an imagine of joey finding y/n masturbating and moaning his name, only if you want you can add sex rough and maybe degradation. take your time <3 please and thank you 💗

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐢 𝐜𝐚𝐧 ♱ 𝐣𝐨𝐞𝐲 𝐣𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐧

love this! thank you for the request!!

warnings! smut, smut and very much smut! rough sex! degradation, punishment, fingering and so much more

summary; joey teaches reader a lesson for thinking she could do better than him

words; 1569

-

IT WAS LATE, and the house was too quiet. Joey wouldn’t be home for at least another hour, but you couldn’t wait any longer. The need had been building all day, a slow, simmering burn that you’d tried to ignore, but it was impossible to deny. Your body ached with longing, a desire that only he could satisfy, but he wasn’t here.

Your fingers itched to touch, to find some relief, and before you knew it, you were naked on your bed, your hand between your legs, searching for the pleasure, the one only he could give you.

Your mind was filled with thoughts of Joey—his hands, his mouth, the way he commanded every inch of your body when you were together.

Your fingers moved in desperate strokes, slick with arousal, and you couldn’t stop the soft moans that slipped from your lips, his name on your tongue like a prayer.

“Joey,” you whispered, the sound of it spurring you on as you dipped your fingers deeper, chasing the release that teased at the edges of your consciousness. Your back arched off the mattress, your breath hitching as you imagined him here, hovering over you, his intense eyes locked on yours, his voice rough and possessive as he told you how much he wanted you.

But no matter how much you tried, no matter how fast or slow your fingers moved, it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t him. Your frustration grew, a whimper of desperation escaping your lips. You needed him. God, you needed him so badly.

Lost in your own world, you didn’t hear the front door open, didn’t hear the sound of his footsteps coming up the stairs. All you could focus on was the growing ache between your thighs, the pressure building, and how close you were—so close—when suddenly, a voice cut through the haze of your desire like a knife.

“Enjoying yourself, kitten?”

Your eyes flew open, heart lurching in your chest as you turned your head to find Joey standing in the doorway, his expression dark and dangerous. The shock of being caught was like ice water on your skin, and you froze, your hand still buried between your legs.

“Joey,” you gasped, scrambling to sit up, but before you could move, he was there, his hand wrapping around your wrist in a bruising grip as he yanked your fingers out of your pussy.

“I asked you a question,” he growled, his voice low and menacing. “Were you enjoying yourself, kitten? Did you think you could get off without me?”

“I—I wasn’t—” You stammered, but the words caught in your throat as he brought your wet fingers to his mouth, his tongue flicking out to taste you. The sight of it sent a fresh wave of arousal through you, but there was no mistaking the anger in his eyes, the tension in his grip. He wasn’t pleased.

“You weren’t what?” he mocked, his eyes never leaving yours. “Weren’t thinking about me while you touched yourself? Weren’t moaning my name like a needy little slut?”

His words hit you like a blow, sharp and cutting, and you felt the sting of tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. “I was thinking about you,” you whispered, voice trembling. “I couldn’t wait, Joey. I needed you, but you weren’t here, and I—”

“So, you thought you could just take care of it yourself?” he cut you off, his tone dripping with disdain. “You think you can do a better job than me, kitten? Is that it?”

“No!” You shook your head frantically, desperate to make him understand. “No, Joey, I didn’t mean—”

“Shut up.” The command was harsh, and you obeyed instantly, your breath catching in your throat. His hand tightened around your wrist, his other hand coming up to grip your chin, forcing you to look at him. His eyes were dark, filled with a possessiveness that sent a shiver down your spine. “You don’t get to touch yourself without my permission. You don’t get to come without me. Do you understand?”

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest, the weight of his dominance pressing down on you in a way that made your pulse race with equal parts fear and excitement. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

“Sorry isn’t good enough, kitten,” Joey snarled, his gaze piercing as he released your chin and shoved you back onto the bed. “I’m going to teach you a lesson. A lesson you won’t forget.”

You barely had time to register his words before he grabbed your legs, spreading them wide as he settled between your thighs. His eyes were locked on your exposed, glistening cunt, and the intensity of his gaze made your breath hitch in your throat. He replaced your fingers with his. You gasped at the sensation. Joey leaned down between your legs and grabbed on to your thighs, holding them spread apart. You whimpered when he blew on your sensitive skin, the hair on your neck standing up. He worked roughly, leaving no time for you to adjust or get into his rhythm. He merely plunged his two fingers in and out of you so fast, that you weren't quite sure, as to what was happening anymore. You hissed and groaned, using the pillow beside you to muffle your screams. “You were so horny, for this weren't you? Couldn't even wait a day for my fingers, could you?” Joey taunted and looked up at you with a devilish grin. He suddenly retrieved his fingers from your cunt and for the first time ever, you were almost relieved. He’d been so fast, so brutal with your cunt that it was nearly aching.

You were taken aback by his fury. You’d expected him to be flattered, but he was seeing red.

“You think you can do a better job than me?” he hummed, his voice low and dangerous.

Joey stood up and fumbled with his jeans, the chains clinging together as he dropped them to the ground. He took a step towards the edge of the bed and leaned down, positioning himself on his knees. He leaned over and grabbed a hold of your ankles, pulling at them roughly towards him, so that you were perfectly aligned in front of him. Your heart raced as Joey pulled his hard cock out of his boxers. He positioned himself between your thighs, his eyes dark with intent as he stared down at your exposed, glistening pussy. You were so wet, so ready for him, but he wasn’t going to make this easy for you. Not after what you’d done.

“Let’s see how much you can handle, kitten.”

Before you could respond, he slammed into you with one brutal thrust, burying himself to the hilt. The force of it knocked the breath from your lungs, and you cried out, your back arching off the mattress as the sudden intrusion stretched you wide. Joey didn’t give you a moment to adjust, didn’t offer you any reprieve as he set a punishing pace, each thrust deep and unrelenting.

“Is this what you wanted?” Joey growled, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise as he drove into you with merciless force. “You wanted to get fucked, didn’t you, kitten? You couldn’t wait for me, so you had to do it yourself. You had to touch yourself like a dirty little whore.”

His one hand travelled up to pinch your nipple and the pain made you gasp.

His words cut deep, but they only fueled the fire burning inside you. You were helpless beneath him, overwhelmed by the intensity of his thrusts, the roughness of his grip, but it was everything you craved. Your body responded to his dominance, the sting of his degrading words only pushing you closer to the edge.

“Tell me how much you need me,” Joey demanded, his voice sharp and commanding. “Tell me you can’t get off without me, kitten.”

“I can’t,” you gasped, tears streaming down your cheeks as your nails dug into the sheets. “I can’t, Joey. I need you. I need you so bad.”

“That’s right,” he growled, his hand wrapping around your throat, squeezing just enough to make your breath hitch, to make your head spin with a dizzying mix of fear and pleasure. “You belong to me, kitten. Every part of you is mine. No one else can make you feel this way. No one else can fuck you like I can.”

A whimper escaped your lips as his grip tightened, his thrusts growing even more intense, each one driving you closer to the brink. The heat pooled low in your belly, the pressure building to an almost unbearable peak, and you knew you were close—so close—but you wouldn’t let yourself fall until he gave you permission. Until he told you you could.

“You’re going to come for me, kitten,” Joey hissed, his voice rough with his own impending release. “But only when I say so. Only when I give you permission. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” you choked out, your vision blurring as you teetered on the edge of oblivion. “Please, Joey, I need to come. Please let me come.”

His grip on your throat tightened even more, cutting off your air, making your head swim as he leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. “Come for me, kitten. Now.”

The command sent you spiraling over the edge. With a choked cry, your body convulsed beneath him, your orgasm crashing over you with a force that left you trembling, every nerve ending alight with pleasure. Your walls clenched tight around his cock, pulling him deeper, and Joey groaned, his release following yours as he buried himself to the hilt, his warmth flooding you.

For a long moment, you were both lost in the aftermath, your bodies still shaking, hearts pounding in unison as you lay there, tangled together on the bed. You could feel the rapid beat of his heart against your chest, the heavy rise and fall of his breath as he slowly came down from his high.

Finally, Joey pulled out of you, rolling onto his side as he gathered you into his arms, his demeanor softening as he held you close. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his fingers brushing through your hair as he murmured, “Good girl, kitten. That’s what I like to hear.”

You snuggled into his chest, your body still quivering from the intensity of it all, but there was a deep sense of satisfaction, of comfort in the way he held you, in the warmth of his embrace. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice small and shaky.

Joey kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering there for a moment before he spoke, his voice a soft rumble against my hair. “You’re forgiven, kitten. But remember, you don’t need to do that on your own. I’ll always be here to take care of you.”

His words soothed the last remnants of your fear, replacing it with a warmth that spread through your chest

[greengoblinswifey]

I want to cockwarm Shawn Michaels in his office and deepthroat him

a/n— oh baby, me too, but while people are in the room🥳

Shawn's lips pressed against yours, slow and unhurried, like he had all the time in the world but he didn’t. In just a few minutes, he’d be having a meeting. You moaned into the kiss, your hands wrapping around his neck as your tongue massaged his.

“Mm—isn’t your meeting soon?” you asked, between kisses.

“Don’t worry about that sweetheart, just sit on my dick and look pretty,” his gruff voice retorted.

Your eyes widened. He quickly unbuckled his belt, easing his hard cock from his boxers making your breath hitch. His hands skimmed down your back, settling at your hips before lifting you with ease, guiding you onto him.

“You comfortable, sweetheart?” he murmured against your lips, his voice filled with amusement.

You barely had time to respond before there was a knock at the door.

“Come in,” Shawn called, completely unfazed, while you tensed on his cock. He leaned back in his chair, one arm draped lazily around your waist as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

A few NXT talents stepped in, greeting Shawn with respect, eyes flickering curiously to you. You kept your expression composed, but underneath the table, your fingers dug into his arm as you shifted slightly, the hardness of him impossible to ignore. You could feel every inch, every vein, you felt so full and it took everything out of you not to jump off him.

Shawn, the professional he was, didn’t falter. His free hand casually rubbed slow, absentminded circles against your clothed clit, an infuriating smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he continued speaking.

“You okay, sweetie?” he whispered under his breath, low enough that only you could hear.

You swallowed hard, keeping your voice steady. “Mhm. J-just fine.”

He chuckled softly, the sound almost smug. “Good girl. Sit tight on that dick, won’t be long.”

And so, you did—trying your best to keep still, even as he made it impossible.

Shawn sat back in his chair, his grip firm on your waist as the meeting carried on like all was well. But beneath the table, where no one else could see, his hips bucked up, thrusting harshly into your pussy. The movement sent a jolt through you, your fingers tightening on his arm as you forced yourself to stay composed.

“You’re shaking, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice low. “Be a good girl and be still. Wouldn’t want everyone to know how much of a slut you are, would we?”

Heat crawled up your spine, your breath catching as his hand smoothed over your hip, grounding and tormenting you at the same time. You bit your lip, forcing down the whimper threatening to escape, eyes fixed on the conversation in front of you while your body betrayed you completely.

Minutes stretched on like hours, each slight movement of his hips sending another wave of frustration and pleasure through you. You knew he was enjoying this—knew it from the way his fingers flexed against your waist, from the low chuckle he let slip when you squirmed a little too much.

Finally, Shawn clapped his hands together, signaling the end of the meeting. The NXT talent murmured their thanks, filing out one by one until the door clicked shut behind them.

As soon as you were alone, Shawn turned you in his lap, his hands framing your face as he pulled you into a teasing kiss.

“See how easy that was?” he murmured against your lips.

You exhaled shakily, narrowing your eyes at him. “Easy for you.”

His grin widened, fingers brushing along your jaw as he leaned in again. “Oh yeah? Well, I’m not done with you yet.”

He put you on your knees with ease and leaned back in his chair, his fingers tilting your chin up as he looked down at you with a smirk. His thumb traced along your jaw before he tapped it lightly.

“Open up, sweetheart,” he murmured, his cock hard, covered in your juices and right at your mouth.

You obeyed without hesitation, taking him into your throat as his eyes darkened. His fingers ran through your braids as he murmured quiet praises.

“That’s my good girl,” he hummed. “Suck that cock.”

The knock at the door made you freeze, your breath catching as you instinctively moved to rise, but Shawn’s grip tightened just slightly. His voice remained calm, steady, as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

“I didn’t tell you to get up,” he muttered. “Keep sucking.”

Your eyes widened, but before you could take his cock out of your mouth and protest, he called out, “Come in.”

The door swung open, and you pushed yourself to take him deeper, every nerve in your body buzzing. The person greeted Shawn, then hesitated.

“Where’s Y/N? Thought she was here.”

Shawn didn’t even flinch. “Oh, she left a little while ago.”

A pause. “Huh. Didn’t see her leave.”

Shawn merely shrugged, smoothly steering the conversation elsewhere as he spoke like nothing was unusual. But you could feel the tension in his cock, the way it twitched, the way his fingers flexed slightly, as if testing his own restraint. You stayed quiet, bobbing your head slowly as you listened to the conversation above you, knowing exactly what you were getting away with.

After what felt like an eternity, the door finally shut again, signaling that you were alone. Shawn let out a slow breath, his head tilting down to meet your gaze.

“That,” he murmured, “was perfect. You were perfect.”

A shiver ran down your spine at the praise. It willed you on and you took him even deeper, the sound of gagging filling the room. You worked him over as he moaned, lips then your tongue trailing along his shaft and your hands massaging his balls.

“Fucking hell, sweetheart. You want my cum so bad, don’t you?” he groaned.

You hummed around him, deep throating his cock with your watery gaze locked on his.

“Swallow my cum then. Swallow every drop, baby.”

With a deep, ragged moan that went straight to your pussy, Shawn’s warm cum shot down your throat. You guided him through his orgasm, sucking as you swallowed every drop. You didn’t stop until you felt him soften in your mouth, then you took him out with a pop, a trail of spit connecting you to him.

He leaned down slightly, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips and tasting the remnants of his cum. His smirk was evident even as he whispered against your mouth—

“Such a good girl for me.”

[innammoratta]

The Hobbit Incorrect Quotes

(Y/n): *walking into Erebor*

(Y/n): "Duuude, it's totally burnt in here."

Bilbo: "It's called a 'fire,' (Y/n)."