#might be getting to wear my docs again
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waugh-bao · 1 year ago
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phagodyke · 6 months ago
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there's an artist I rly like not naming names but one of their ocs looks EXACTLY like [redacted person ik irl] and it always makes me double take whenever they draw them bc for a second im always like ohhh.. that's them..... but they wouldn't do that... it makes me feel soo strange
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fatecantstopme · 2 months ago
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Lustful Agony
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x plus size!reader
Summary: It's sex pollen, aka my favorite trope.
Warnings: cursing, use of pet names, an insane amount of smut, dubcon (cuz sex pollen), unprotected sex (p in v), oral (F receiving), masturbation (F).
"Would you please be careful?" you snapped.
Your partner froze and offered you a sheepish smile. "Sorry, doc. I wasn't paying attention."
"I noticed," you huffed. "There are any number of things in here that could kill us, so tread lightly."
"Maybe I should wait here."
You glanced in his direction and nodded. "You know what? Good idea. Stay there and don't touch anything."
You continued on through the dusty lab, hoping to find at least one working computer, but after 20 minutes, it seemed hopeless. Every computer had been destroyed and most of the paper files had been shredded or burned. All that remained was hundreds of glass vials filled with various liquids and gases that did gods-only-knew what.
"I'm starting to think this might be a burn and run," you called back to Bucky--still standing where you'd left him on the other side of the lab.
"If we blow this place, is there gonna be a toxic cloud?"
You shot an annoyed look in his direction. "I said 'burn', James, not 'blow'. We're not blowing up a lab filled with unknown chemicals and biological agents."
"Right, yeah." He looked at the ground, feeling slightly embarrassed. He always seemed to make a fool of himself in front of you and he hated it. He never wanted to be the fool, especially around you.
Your well-trained eyes scanned the room again before falling on a secured biological containment chamber. You knew that would be the best option for storing items for burning. All you'd need to do was get all the bio vials into the chamber and light it up.
You crossed the room to the chamber, feeling Bucky's eyes following you. He hated being in a position where he felt like he couldn't protect you, but he was out of his element here. As the resident hazardous materials expert, this was your area of brilliance.
You grumbled in annoyance when you noticed the lock on the containment chamber was activated. You were familiar with this particular model, and if you were lucky, these Hydra assholes hadn't been smart enough to bother changing the code. You input the pin, silently crossing your fingers, a smile spreading across your face when you heard the distinct sound of the mechanism unlocking.
You lifted the hood slowly, hoping to find the chamber empty. You had a momentary thought that you and Bucky should be wearing appropriate PPE, but the thought occurred to you too late.
A sound of surprise escaped your lips as a puff of sweet-smelling pink dust blew into your face from inside the cabinet. The tactical suit and gloves you were wearing did nothing to protect your respiratory system from the unknown substance.
The dust seemed to dissolve almost instantly, fading into nothingness before you could even alert Bucky to the hazard. He, of course, had heard your surprised gasp, thanks to his super soldier hearing.
"Doc? Everything okay?" he called worriedly.
"Not sure," you replied. "I, uh, I got hit in the face with some pink dust...and I'm willing to bet it's not fairy dust."
Bucky's blood ran cold. "Pink dust?"
"Yeah, smelled like some kind of super sweet candy--or those sugary wine coolers I drank in college."
Any color that remained in Bucky's face quickly drained. "Look at me."
His tone was so firm, it frightened you. Bucky normally joked around with you, but you could hear the fear in his voice and it scared you more than anything else.
You turned to face him and his expression confirmed your fears. "Do you know what it is?"
Bucky nodded. "I think so, but we won't know for sure for at least 30 minutes, possibly longer."
"Am I going to die?" your voice was so soft--so small--that even he almost didn't hear it.
"Not if I can help it."
When your eyes met his piercing blue orbs, he could see the terror reflected in them. He wanted to go to you, help you, but he knew he couldn't--not if you still had even the slightest trace of the dust on you.
"You need to rinse off before we get out of here," Bucky said calmly. "If it's what I think it is, then I can't get that stuff anywhere near me."
"Why? What'll happen?"
Bucky's gaze didn't quite meet yours. "I will tear you apart and not even realize it."
His words cut you like a knife. You knew deep in your soul Bucky would never hurt you, but if this substance could turn him into a wild animal, you wondered what the hell it was going to do to you.
You'd spotted a decontamination area when you'd first entered the lab, so you slowly made your way there, careful to avoid getting anywhere near Bucky.
Bucky radioed in to Sam to give him an update on the situation. You heard him describing what had happened and asking for another team to be sent in to destroy the facility.
You stood under the spray of the shower head and let the water pummel your skin. The pressure was almost painful, but you knew it was necessary to ensure the substance was no longer on your skin. You'd inhaled it, so you were screwed, but there was no reason for Bucky to be too.
After several minutes, you felt comfortable saying you were clean. You just wanted to get the hell out of this lab and back home.
You voiced as much to Bucky, but he shook his head slowly. "You're not gonna make it all the way home, (Y/N)."
You didn't like Bucky's use of your first name in this context...he always called you 'doc', and the change made you feel like death was around the corner.
Your face must have given away your fear because he continued. "I just mean you won't make it home before the symptoms start. Once they do, you won't want to be around anyone."
"So what do we do?"
"Safe house. It's our only option."
You groaned inwardly. You had zero desire to stay in that drafty little cabin another night, but you trusted Bucky's instincts, so you simply nodded.
Bucky was quick to usher you back to the quinjet, filling you in on his conversation with Sam. "He'll send in another team in full Level A hazmat gear. They'll take care of the place."
"Okay."
"You alright, doc? How you feelin'?"
"I feel fine so far. Just moderately terrified."
"Don't be. You're gonna be fine."
You wanted to believe him--really you did--but there was something in his voice that made you question if he even believed it.
By the time the jet touched down by the cabin, 25 minutes had passed since the moment of infection. Bucky still hadn't told you what you were dealing with and it was driving you insane.
You followed Bucky into the cabin and watched him drop his bag on the floor. He turned to look at you, eyes clearly sizing you up, checking to see if you were okay.
"Just tell me," you whispered--somewhere between a plea and a demand.
He sighed deeply. "How do you feel?"
You closed your eyes and took mental stock of your body, seeking anything out of the ordinary. "I feel hot, but that could just be the anxiety."
"How hot?"
"I don't know, like feverish, I guess."
Bucky groaned and the sound sent a wave of need through your body--a need that shocked you to your very core. This was absolutely not the time for your stupid crush to rear its head.
"Please don't hit me, okay? I'm just gonna touch your hand."
"Why would I hit you?" you asked a second before his flesh hand met yours. The feeling was pleasant and it warmed you from the inside out, until he removed his hand. You inhaled sharply as an intense pain you couldn't describe shot through you.
Bucky jerked his hand away, his worst fears confirmed. "I know what it is."
"Please," you whimpered.
"It's a biological agent Hydra developed when their attempts to make a useable super soldier serum failed. It was designed to induce a euphoric sexual state that would result in agony and possible death if penetrative sex was not performed and an orgasm was not achieved."
"I'm sorry, what?"
"Hydra believed they could create super soldiers the old fashion way--by breeding them. Sprinkle some of the magic dust on a super soldier and he'd fuck his way through a room full of women without a single care for their well-being. They called it 'sex pollen'."
Your breathing was labored as pain began to spread through your body. You tried desperately to ignore it and focus on Bucky's words. "What happened?"
Bucky couldn't look at you as he responded softly, "None of the women survived the mating process."
You realized now what he'd meant back at the lab. You didn't really want to know, but you found yourself asking the question anyway, "Did they do it to you?"
Bucky closed his eyes, desperately trying to push the dark memories back down. "Yeah. They did."
"I'm sorry," you whispered.
Bucky shook his head, banishing the memories. "It doesn't matter. What matters now is how we handle this."
"If the sex pollen had that kind of effect on a super soldier, what's it gonna do to me?"
"I imagine it's going to be significantly worse for you if you don't...umm--if you don't reach climax."
"So I have to orgasm? Seriously?"
"I wish it were that simple."
Before you could respond, you doubled over in pain, an agonized groan escaping your parted lips.
Bucky rushed to you without thinking and laid his hands on your arms. You let out a pained whine and he pulled away, suddenly remembering what was happening.
"It feels like my skin is on fire," you cried.
"I know, doll. I know."
It was killing Bucky not to be able to help you. He was your protector in every situation, but he couldn't protect you from this. He knew exactly what kind of hell you were in for and it nearly broke him.
The waves of pain subsided and you were able to pull yourself upright. "Well this is fun," you mumbled.
"It's gonna get worse, (Y/N). Much, much worse."
"That's comforting, Buck. Thank you."
He gave you a sad look. "You can't do this alone."
"What do you mean?"
"The pollen was designed to force the creation of life...the only way to alleviate the pain is to give the pollen what it wants."
Your brain had become too muddled to understand what he was saying. "Plain English, Buck. Please."
"You, uh, you have to have sex."
"So you're saying I can't just masturbate this away?"
Bucky shook his head. "You have to have sex and your partner has to umm--ejaculate inside you."
Another wave of pain raked its claws through your skin, but you managed to stay upright this time. "What happens if I don't?"
You saw the look of sadness on Bucky's face and you knew you wouldn't like his answer. "You'll die."
"Well, fuck." You winced, reaching out to grab the back of the couch for stability. The pain was only increasing and you knew it was a matter of time before you couldn't take it any longer. "How sure are you that I'll die?"
"I mean, I don't know any regular humans that survived contact with the pollen. They were used as test subjects during its creation."
"I swear, Hydra gets more disgusting every time I learn something new."
Bucky was dying to help you. Seeing you in pain was agonizing for him and he knew his pain paled in comparison to yours. He would do anything for you--all you need do was ask.
"I'm gonna try waiting it out," you said firmly.
"What?" Bucky said, shock evident in his tone.
"I'm sure as hell not gonna force you to fuck me, Bucky. So I'm gonna wait it out."
"(Y/N), you're not forcing me to do anything. I'm offering to help. I don't want you to die."
You shook your head. "I'd rather die than force you into this."
"I'm offering--"
"Don't," you snapped. "No matter what you say, I'm going to feel like I'm forcing you to do something and I can't deal with that. So please, let me try to handle this alone."
Bucky knew for a fact he could overpower you with ease, especially when you were in such a state. He could make the pain stop and you would be glad for it in the moment. But he couldn't do it. He would never ever hurt you like that, even if it meant watching you die. It just wasn't something he was capable of.
"Okay, doll."
You could tell he didn't want to agree, but you were glad he wasn't arguing. All you wanted to do was tear your clothes off and try to find some sort of relief. The fire burning under your skin was intensifying by the second.
"I'm gonna take a cold shower and lock myself in the bedroom. Please stay out here."
Bucky simply nodded. He wanted to sit on this couch and listen to the sounds of your pain about as much as he wanted to get shot in the face. But he respected you too much to ignore your wishes.
You dragged yourself into the bathroom and stripped down to nothing before climbing into the cold shower. The frigid water seemed to help at first, but you discovered the effects were short-lived.
You leaned your head against the cold tile and let out a pained sob. You wanted the pain to stop so badly, but you didn't want to involve Bucky. You couldn't. Bucky was your closest friend and partner. His was the relationship you valued most in life and you wouldn't risk it for anything. It didn't matter you were in love with him. It didn't matter you'd wanted him from the moment you'd laid eyes on him. What mattered is you knew he didn't feel the same.
Bucky had a new girl in his bed several times a week. You were pretty sure you'd never seen the same girl twice in the three years you'd known him. Each one was a tall, blonde, model-thin, gorgeous woman. You didn't check a single one of those boxes. You didn't think Bucky was shallow, he just had a type. He was one of the hottest men you'd ever seen, so it only made sense for him to be with the hottest women.
You didn't think you were ugly, by any means. You just weren't his type. You were shorter, very curvy, girl-next-door average. You'd accepted it long ago and vowed to never tell him how you felt for fear of jeopardizing your friendship. Your current situation was as close as you could get to your biggest fear and you weren't willing to risk it. You loved him too much to lose him entirely. Even if he insisted he was willing to help, you knew he would come to regret it. Things would be awkward between you and eventually your friendship would come to an end.
"Not worth the risk," you muttered to yourself.
The cooling effects of the shower had long since worn off, so you turned off the water and grabbed a towel. As you wrapped it around your body, you found it was too small to cover everything and the scratchy material was painful against your overly sensitive skin.
You dropped the towel to the ground and opened the door a crack. "Bucky?"
"Yeah, doll?"
"Um, the towel hurts my skin, so um...please don't look while I walk to the bedroom."
Bucky inhaled deeply, calming himself. Sure, he wasn't impacted by the pollen, but the fact that your naked body was a few feet away from him certainly did.
"I'll close my eyes."
You tentatively opened the door and peeked out. You could see Bucky sitting on the couch, eyes closed as promised. You quickly rushed from the bathroom to the open bedroom door, shutting it behind you. In your haste to get out of sight, you neglected to lock the door.
You nearly collapsed onto the bed, the need to feel some relief the only thing on your mind. Normally, you would have been embarrassed to even consider touching yourself when Bucky was so close by, but this was an extreme circumstance. You mentally told yourself you needed to be quiet at the very least, given his excellent hearing.
You tried to get as comfortable as you could, but it was impossible. The only parts of your body that didn't ache were the ones you were actively touching. You slipped your dominant hand between your legs and felt another wave of embarrassment hit when you felt just how wet you were.
The moment your fingers brushed between your folds, you let out a loud moan. You slapped your hand across your mouth and hoped Bucky mistook the sound for one of pain.
Bucky was breathing heavily as he sat on the couch less than 10 feet from the bedroom door. He could hear every tiny little sound you made, even as you desperately tried to stay quiet.
He knew he shouldn't be turned on by those sounds--not when you were experiencing something so awful--but he couldn't help it. He'd dreamed of hearing you moan for him a hundred times before. It took all his will-power to not bust down that door and give you what you needed.
You let out a particularly obscene moan and Bucky had to stifle his own. His cock strained against his pants and he hated himself for being turned on. He tried to tell himself it wasn't his fault--he'd wanted you for years--but he couldn't shake the feeling of shame.
Ten minutes went by and the sounds coming from the bedroom continued. Bucky gripped the back of the couch with all his strength, determined to not give himself even a modicum of pleasure from this.
Another five minutes passed and he heard you let out a pained sob. His heart skipped a beat and he listened closely for any more noise. He heard the distinct sounds of you crying and his resolve broke. He immediately went to your door and knocked.
"Doll? You okay?"
"It hurts so much," you whimpered.
He leaned his forehead against the door. "I know, sweetheart. Please let me help you. Please."
He could hear you writhing around on the bed, whimpers of pain reaching his ears and making him tear up.
"I can't--it didn't work," you cried. "I'm so hot--it hurts."
"Please, baby," Bucky begged. He placed his hand on the doorknob, dying to turn it and get to you.
"Bucky," you whimpered.
The pain in that one simple word made his decision for him. He turned the knob and was surprised to find the door unlocked. He opened the door a crack, but kept his eyes away from the bed.
"Let me help you," he pleaded again.
Your eyes roamed his gorgeous figure and you let out a choked sob. Nothing else mattered in that moment--all you could think about was him.
"Make it stop," you begged him.
Bucky's eyes snapped open, meeting yours in a desperately hungry look. He didn't say a word, didn't even allow his brain to process the deeper meaning of what he was about to do. You'd asked him to help you--to stop the pain--so that was exactly what he was going to do.
He stripped out of his tactical suit as fast as possible, leaving himself in his boxer briefs, cock straining to be set free.
You reached out a hand to him and he went to you without a thought. He climbed onto the bed, hovering over you as his eyes scanned your face.
"Are you sure about this, doll?" he asked softly.
"I need you," you whimpered back.
Those three little words shattered the sliver of resolve he'd had left. His lips met yours in a hungry, devouring kiss--all teeth and tongue. His hands latched onto your soft curves, touching every inch of skin he could reach.
Everywhere he touched felt like ice against your burning skin. The sensation both incredible and painful all at once. Whatever bit of shyness or insecurity you had was wiped away by the sheer intensity of it all.
Bucky's lips attacked your neck, your jaw, your collarbone--nipping and sucking bruising marks into your skin. While it felt good, it wasn't nearly enough.
"Need more."
Bucky nudged his knee between your legs to spread them wider for him. "I know, baby. I know."
He quickly descended down to your aching core, blowing hot air against it in a teasing manner. You whined and scratched at his scalp, reminding him this was not the time for teasing.
He flicked his tongue between your pussy lips, seeking out your clit immediately. The second his tongue brushed against it, you cried out in pleasure--the first real feeling of relief you'd had since you'd been infected.
Bucky smiled to himself as he settled in to properly feast on your pussy, reveling in the essence of you against his tongue, invading all of his senses.
You gripped his hair in one hand and the sheet in the other, gyrating wildly as Bucky ate you with abandon. The pleasure was blinding, but you could still feel the undercurrent of raging fire flowing through your veins.
Bucky seemed to instinctively know exactly what you enjoyed, following your body like he had a roadmap to your pleasure points. He sent you over the edge with ease three times before finally coming up for air.
You reached for him, still hungry for more. "Bucky."
"I'm here, baby." He kissed you deeply, hands gripping your hips tightly. He wanted to take his time with you, but he knew he couldn't--you needed more from him and you needed it now.
He was quick to discard his underwear before lining himself up with your entrance. His cock nudged against your aching hole and you both moaned.
"Please, please, please, please..." you begged.
Bucky knew what you needed and he wasted no time sheathing himself inside of you. You cried out in pain as his cock stretched you more than you'd ever experienced before. The pain quickly subsided into pleasure and the pollen seemed to sense its purpose was near.
You felt a surge of need and you begged him to fuck you. "I need it, please, Bucky."
"I've got you, sweetheart." He began to thrust gently, trying his best not to hurt you. The sensations began to overwhelm him as much as they were overwhelming you, prompting him to move faster--losing himself in the feeling of you.
"Fuck, baby. You take my cock so well."
Your pussy fluttered in response, a soft whine escaping your lips.
"Best pussy I've ever had. So tight and wet for me. Made for me, weren't you?"
You nodded rapidly, not really registering what he was saying.
"How many times you think I can make you cum, baby? Six? Seven? Think the pollen can get you there?"
Your eyes widened at his words. Unsure if that was possible even with pollen.
Bucky grinned down at you. "I think I can get seven. Bet this pussy will give me whatever I want, won't she? Gonna make my girl scream my name all night long."
You felt the coil in your belly snap as another orgasm rushed through you. You clung to Bucky, a string of profanity spilling past your lips.
Bucky didn't let you come down from it before pushing your body towards another orgasm. He wanted to feel you gripping his cock like this as long as possible--especially since he might never feel it again.
"Baby, you feel so good," he murmured, placing soft kisses to your face. "Love the way you're squeezing me."
"Feels so good, Bucky," you moaned.
"Fuck, been wanting to hear you say that for so long. Needed to be inside this tight little pussy so badly. It's better than I ever imagined."
Somewhere in the back of your mind, you wanted to ask what he meant--if he'd really imagined it, but you were too far gone to articulate a coherent thought.
As another orgasm crashed into you, you momentarily wondered if it was possible to die from overwhelming pleasure. You'd been in so much pain for so long and the sudden change to blinding pleasure was incredible. It was unlike anything you'd ever experienced.
"How many more can you give me, sweetheart?"
"Wanfeelcum," you mumbled incoherently.
"What was that, baby? Too fucked out to speak?"
"Wanna feel you cum, Bucky," you begged.
He was already so close to the edge he nearly lost control at the sound of your voice. But if he was being honest with himself, he didn't want this to end. He was scared if he came, if he gave you what you needed, then you'd be satiated and it would all be over.
"Need to feel you cum on my cock at least one more time, baby."
You whimpered, but nodded your consent.
Bucky picked up the pace, hitting your sweet spot with each thrust. You weren't sure whether it was the pollen or his skill, but you went flying over the edge of blinding pleasure with an intensity you'd never experienced. You screamed his name as the waves crashed over you, pussy gushing juices as you squirted all over his cock and abdomen.
"Fuck yeah, baby. So fucking sexy..." he murmured. "Gonna fill you up. Give you what you want."
"Want your cum," you begged.
"That's right, pretty girl. Gonna give you my cum. Fill up this sweet pussy till you're stuffed."
"Yes, Bucky! Please!"
Bucky's hips stuttered as he came, filling your pussy with ropes of warm cum. Bucky kept thrusting slowly as he whispered your name into your skin over and over like a prayer.
Slowly, the haze created by the sex pollen began to fade, leaving you completely blissed out. Awareness of what you'd done began to creep in, but the feel of Bucky's weight on top of you kept you in the moment.
He finally slowed to a halt, but his lips were still pressing into your hot skin. After several more moments, he raised himself up just enough to kiss you sweetly, making sure you felt his adoration.
The moment he rolled off you, the full weight of what you'd done hit you like a ton of bricks. If your body would have cooperated, you would have turned over onto your side, curled up in a ball, and cried.
Bucky felt the sudden shift in your demeanor and he felt his heart clench in his chest. "(Y/N/N)..."
"I'm sorry," you whispered.
Surprise lit up his face. "What?"
"I shouldn't have done that--I'm so sorry."
"I'm gonna stop you right there." He sat up a little so he could look down at your face. You wouldn't meet his gaze, but he continued anyway. "Don't you dare think for a single second that I did something I didn't want to do. You were in pain and I couldn't let that stand. I would do anything for you, (Y/N). Anything. I don't regret it and I'd do it again in a heartbeat."
Your eyes finally raised to meet his and you saw nothing but honesty in his gaze. You knew he cared about you, but you were still worried you'd crossed a line neither of you could come back from.
Bucky stared at your face, taking in just how incredibly beautiful you were. He was trying to commit it to memory--never wanting to forget any bit of it.
"Thank you," you whispered.
Bucky shook his head. "You don't have to thank me, doll. Like I said, I wanted to." He paused for a moment, a silent war raging inside of him. He seemed to make a decision and once he did, the words just flowed from his mouth. "I mean it, (Y/N). I've wanted to for years--wanted you for years. I never wanted it to happen like this, but fuck baby...here we are. I would do anything you asked of me, okay? I'll rip my own heart out and light it on fire if you ask me to. So if you ask me to pretend this never happened, I will, but I need you to know I don't want to. I want to make love to you over and over again, hear you scream my name, watch your beautiful face as you fall apart for me...I want you. I will always want you."
You were completely breathless by the time he stopped talking. The words coming out of his mouth weren't what you'd ever expected to hear. "You want me?"
"I've always wanted you. Every part of you. Inside and out."
"What about all the other women?"
"What?"
"The ones you bring home all the time."
He touched your face gently, turning your head to look at him directly. "They're fine for a night, but they're not you. They were a poor substitute for the woman I really wanted, but couldn't have."
"Bucky..."
He looked a little crestfallen, mistaking your tone for rejection. "It's okay if you don't feel the same--"
Your hand gently pressed against his lips, shutting him up instantly. "If I could move properly, I would have kissed you to shut you up."
His eyes lit up and a small smile played on his lips.
"Of course I feel the same. Of course I want you. I only pushed you away tonight because I didn't want to lose you. I was afraid you would regret it."
He leaned down so he was inches away from your lips. "Oh sweetheart, I could never regret anything to do with you."
Your lips curled up in a sweet smile. "Really?"
"Mhmm."
"Buck?"
"Hmm?"
"Any chance we can make love? I wanna be in the moment...really in it."
"Right now?" he asked in surprise.
You nodded.
His lips met yours in a loving kiss. "I'm more than happy to oblige."
You grinned as he rolled back on top of you, lips pressing against yours hungrily.
"I'll make love to you as many times as you want. Whatever you want, I'll give you. Just ask."
"Anything?"
"Anything."
You smirked slowly. "Then I might have some ideas..."
"Oh really?"
"Oh yes." You pulled his face down to yours to whisper some of your inner desires into his ear.
"My god," he murmured. "You're gonna be the death of me."
You laughed lightly and he joined in before pulling you in for a passionate kiss, dead-set on giving you everything you wanted and more.
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girlbossagenda · 4 months ago
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HOW TO HAVE YOUR SUMMER REVENGE GLOW UP
Summer break it's here! A lot of us have grown out of shape due to all the stress caused from school, and the lack or time to exercise or live a more healthy lifestyle, are you scared to go to the beach because you feel like you don't have that beach body? Are you heart broken and just want to live your hot girl summer or perhaps you want to finally be confident your body and change your entire life? If so this is the maxi guide for you.
౨ৎHow to get started౨ৎ
I made this google doc where I explain things more in depth here you can find, how to glow up: physically, mentally and socially(friends, summer filings, popularity etc...) if you want to know how to archive your results, you can find my explanation in depth(also winter friendly)
Here -> THE SUMMER I TURNED PRETTY: HOW TO REVENGE GLOW UP
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Do you remember those girl on YouTube, IG and tumblr?The pretty ones that were living their best summer? Wanna be like them? Then think and plan a summer in the same way a girl with your dream summer would do!
୨୧Make a pre-summer status୨୧
We will use this to track what changed about out life during this summer, I know it might be stressful or embarassing at first, but you're going to be grateful knowing all the progress that you made
୨୧Work on your mindset୨୧
This is so important, read again point n°1, and then put yourself in the shows of the person that you want to become, for example:
-> you want to be a pretty popular girl? "Would the pretty popular girl say that her Summer is ruined and that she has no one to hangout with"? I don't think so.
౨ৎHOW TO GLOW UP PHYSICALLY౨ৎ
if you're interested just in the physical stuff this is the section for you(more in depth in the Google doc)
You need to understand that most of the time a summer glow up last up until the first week of school then it's gone, but you want it to last, right? Here's how:
୨୧Find a low effort beauty routine୨୧
During summer you have all the time to maintain a beauty regiment, but you also need to make it practical, for example you might keep your hair natural during summer, you need to simplify them -> extensions, braids, sew in, silk presses or clip in...
୨୧Change hair color୨୧
During summer you need to grab attention change hair color to blonde, red, or more funky colors like blue, pink etc...
୨୧Diet୨୧
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I know, it's hard, with all the ice cream around, but you can also try by drinking healthy smoothies(especially the green ones), opt also for a salad as a snack.
୨୧Skincare୨୧
You have to wear sunscreen and if you want to get a tan you NEED to put that after sun lotion and be consistent with your skincare
୨୧Grow your lashes + eyebrows୨୧
Always, this is a must, you finally have enough time, then start now, be consistent and in 3 months you're going to have the best result, I advise you to use castor oil in the night and in the day a lash growth serum.
୨୧Learn to do your make up୨୧
Optional but very useful, in those days that you're at home you can learn how to do your make up so you're going to comeback to school and slay even in your worst days, plus it's a cute hobby.
౨ৎHOW TO GET POPULAR DURING SUMMER౨ৎ
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If you don't have friends at school it would be nice to have them outside, plus having friends out makes you so much cooler! Are you ready to expand your social life?
୨୧Summer school/camp୨୧
A classic, you can meet so many people here, works best if you are between 11-16 yo, If you're 16+ you can try joing a camp and be an animator
୨୧Beach୨୧
Have you even heard of "the beach friend"? Where I'm from they are very common and popular, it usually starts early in childhood, but you can also make them at your age! You just need to approach the people that look like share the same interests as you, better if they are alone too!
୨୧Online୨୧
You can go on a forum site and actually ask in the chat if someone wants to make friends and exchange ig, snaps,discord etc...you might make long distance but strong friendships
୨୧Work୨୧
Now coworkers are not actually your friends, but you might get close to some, better if it's not a competitive environment, try to network between your coworkers, maybe some of them actually know people of your interest, if you can start working with friends!
୨୧Neighborhood events୨୧
Churches usually during summer do some activities for the youths you can try and enjoy them! Or go to a popular place or even host in your neighborhood!
౨ৎHOW TO HAVE A SUMMER FLING౨ৎ
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I'm not really into romance, but it might be different from some of y'all! If you want to flirt, get. In a relationship or just have some fun experimenting then keep reading!
Follow the beauty steps written before!
୨୧Go to parties or events(better if on the beach)୨୧
What a better place to find love if not on the beach? All you'll need to do it's to wear a cute bikini and have fun with your friends!
୨୧Work on your gaze୨୧
You know the phrase "love at first sight"? Let's turn it into "love at first gaze" you need to exercise on your facial expressions and your seductive gaze, grab a mirror and flirt with yourself!
୨୧Make time to hangout୨୧
You're not going to find love by staying at home! You need to get out and wander around the city! Go to all the places where people of your age go! Bring your friends along(if you can or be brave and go alone!)
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Phew, this guide was quite long! And there's so much more! Thank you for sticking with me and supporting my blog! Ilysm and I'm so grateful for all the people that read my posts, let's glow up together this summer!
xoxo gorgeous
-𝓐
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almostfoxglove · 1 month ago
Text
ELEVEN STITCHES
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as voted for by you for ⭐ my milestone celebration ⭐
RATING: Explicit (18+) | PAIRING: Joel Miller x Reader WORD COUNT: 3k CW: Graphic descriptions of canon-typical injury, blood, gore, and mild body horror. use of restraints (our man's strapped down) this is just fluff with blood.
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SUMMARY: After Joel comes back from patrol injured, he wakes up restrained to a bed in Jackson's clinic where you've been tasked with patching him up.
read on ao3 | almostfoxglove masterlist
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You’ve never seen him this close. Nor this peaceful: asleep, his lips a breath apart, dark lashes scalloped over his cheeks. Scarred and battered, yes. Tried, yes. Such blue hangs beneath his eyes. But if you squint—blocking out the leather straps and silver handcuffs restraining him to the metal clinic bed—the notorious Joel Miller looks almost sweet. As you pierce him for the first time with the bite of your needle, sewing closed the end of his jagged wound, you almost can’t imagine this guy hurting a fly. He looks so soft. 
Then you pull the stitch taut, the chasm of split skin narrowing, a fraction of the slick, red muscle below disappearing. One second out and the next second gasping, Joel Miller shocks to his senses like you’ve electrocuted him, his whole body thrashing against his restraints. You pull your hands back just in time to avoid stabbing him with the needle, catch his brown eyes black with terror—
No, scratch that. With rage. 
“Woooah, alright there,” you coo, needle idle in your hand despite the steady drip drip drip of his blood on the floor. “Easy tiger, it’s okay, we gotcha.”
But he’s all animal, all fight. Won’t stop bucking against the leather straps leashed over his shoulders and ribs—his hands ball to fists below their cuffs, metal pinching into joints. It takes him a minute to even register you, too busy writhing, his boots kicking at the end of the bed. Makes a horrible sound. You have to say his name twice to get Joel to turn his head, then it’s over for you. You’re dead. 
Or you would be if you hadn’t agreed to let Tommy strap his brother down when they’d dragged his body in. Saying, it’s for the best, doc. Trust me. Just seconds ago the man looked harmless, face slack and unmarred by the creases that now canyon his brow, and yet there’s no denying in this moment that Joel Miller could pull every kind of pain from you. Drain every ounce of your blood. 
Smiling calmly in the face of his fit feels not unlike watching a jaguar growl in a zoo behind the safety of a fence: in awe of a predator’s bloodlust and naively unafraid.
“You hit your head on patrol,” you say, and your voice is a lake untouched by weather. The picture of professionalism. “You know where you are?”
He’s gonna break a tooth grinding his teeth like that, but you don’t say. You just watch him blink and scan the room again, his arms taut in their shackles. The injured one is bared for you to work on, unveiling the ropes of muscle and sinew that strangle each other as he struggles. “Jackson,” Joel grits, and fixes you with that ire again as he blinks, lucidity slowly creeping into his eyes. He’d kill you, you think, if he only had a free hand. A free pinky finger. At least until this panic wears off.
“Atta boy,” you smile. “You know your name?”
“Where’s Ellie?” 
You click your tongue. “Don’t think that’s it.”
His glare spears through the center of your skull—eyes that know no color but black, two tunnels of wrath-soaked violence. Stubborn, livid, in pain. He rocks his jaw left to right before answering with a stiff, “Joel.”
“Atta boy,” you grin, then return one hand to his arm above the dip in his inner elbow, hopeful Joel might let you resume your work, but he seizes the moment your glove grazes his skin. You don’t remove it. You need to steady him, close him up. 
You let out a patient breath. “You remember what happened?”
Something snaps then. His struggling returns with a vengeance, every muscle in his broad body fighting and fighting and fighting to get up. “Where’s—” he sneers, sharper now, “Ellie?”
Again the legs of the clinic bed squeal on the tiled floor, shearing as nails on a chalkboard—your ears tweak. 
“Hey—hey, it’s okay. She’s okay,” you hush him, lifting your hand again to show him your palms, your needle pinched between two fingers and attached to the arm he’s yet to notice is bleeding. “She’s alright, didn’t even need a stitch. We checked her for a concussion and she’s clear. You, on the other hand—”
“Take me to her, right now,” Joel growls, more animal than man.
You sigh, draw up restraint from its deep, deep well. “Can’t do that yet, honey. Gotta finish patching you up first, hm? That sound alright?”
Joel’s nostrils flare, upper lip peeling from his teeth as he snarls.
“Take me to Ellie. Right. Fuckin’. Now.”
“And here I was thinking Tommy was fucking with me when he suggested the restraints,” you tease, then soothe the palm of your hand over his bare shoulder. To your dismay Joel only thrashes again, trying to get away, so you set down the needle on the bed beside him and nudge your chair back to give him some air. “Not here to hurt you. But you got cut pretty bad, and I think once this adrenaline wears off you’re gonna be glad you let me finish this before releasing you on the world. But, here. One second—”
You hold up one finger and roll your chair back, kicking yourself over to the clinic room door. With the toe of your shoe, you shove it open a crack, letting in blue fluorescence from the hall. “Ellie?” you call into the corridor.
After a moment of quiet a far-off voice shouts in reply, “What?”
“Say hi to Joel for me, will you honey? Afraid he might Hulk out over here before I get him closed up.” A beat of silence hangs the air in which you peek at Joel with a smirk before Ellie yells out from a distant room,
“I’M FINE JOEL.”
“Thanks, honey,” you call back. When you’ve kicked yourself back to his bedside, Joel has settled to quiet seething. “Better?”
A grunt’s about as much as you could hope for. Smiling, you pluck up your needle again. “Alright. Think we’ve got ten stitches to go. Tell me what you remember.”
“I’m tied down,” Joel says instead, letting his eyes sink closed. Exhausted, you suspect. In no small amount of pain. But he doesn’t jump this time when your hands return to his arm, nor when the needle bites his broken skin. Little wins. 
Like magic, you’re a seamstress again. Once upon a time blood turned your stomach—even cheesy horror movies could trigger a storm of nausea—and any needle you took up was destined only to patch a quilt or save someone’s favorite shirt, never their flesh. Times change. Now you can stare down every kind of gore with an iron stomach and eerie calm. Any skin, any body, becomes a project to you when you’re working. Just a little cloth in need of mending.
“Very observant,” you tease with a small chuckle, daring to glance at Joel’s eyes as you pull the next stitch tight. A muscle ticks in his jaw but he doesn’t move. “Humor me a minute longer, okay?”
“There was,” he starts to say, “half a dozen of ‘em, maybe. We were—mmph—a mile out, had this lookout spot on a roof we usually check.”
“Mhm,” you hum, attention fixed on the disappearance of pink. 
“Don’t know how they got up there. Thought we had ‘em all but one was hidin’. Knocked me down the—think it knocked me down the fire escape.”
You nod along. “Eight more,” you interject in his next pause. “You remember how you got this?”
As his head turns, Joel’s curls scratch the stiff pillowcase and he looks down at his arm for the first time as if he too is looking at nothing more than an old quilt. Something that’s not quite his, not quite a body. “Was glass on the fire escape,” he mumbles. “Broken window I guess.”
Then he drags his eyes to you, bringing a singeing of a different kind. Maybe your jaw feathers, maybe it doesn’t. But something in your chest undeniably flares. “Well,” you grin. “Think we can rule out memory loss.”
Joel hmphs.
“Got six more.” 
You begin the next stitch. More red tissue seams, breathing pride into your bones. Can’t fix much these days, not on any meaningful scale, but you can do this—close one wound. Make one small thing right for the person on your table.
“Gonna untie me?” you hear Joel say.
With a small grin you glance up at him through your lashes. “Gonna lie still?”
His jaw rocks, considering this, maybe swallowing some snarky answer—but in the end he nods. Something hard deflates in his chest, that last pillar of hostility, so you too resign. Set down the needle again; it’ll need to be cleaned. When you stand over the clinic bed the weight of him watching you grows heavier and heavier until flicking open the buckles that cross his chest becomes an arduous task, your hands slow like they’re pushing through water. The metal clink of each loosening clasp is deafening. Then the thud of the leather belts slinking away, dropping to the floor. You pluck the key for the cuffs from your silver tray, toggle open each round jaw, and Joel lifts the arm that isn’t bleeding just enough to roll his wrist out, opens and closes his fist.
“Thanks,” he mumbles.
“Sure thing.”
Gloves snap off and a new pair snaps on. You dunk the needle into a small bowl of vodka—it’s not perfect, but you make do, grateful for whatever supplies find their way to you—and at your side Joel remains stationary like he promised. A man of his word.
“We met before?” he asks, as you return to your stool. A voice like that oughta be bottled—coarse and deep and dragged through rubble. It could do terrible things to you, now that you’re listening. Now that you’re aware of being observed—feeling the tables have turned, that you’re the one being observed.
You don’t look at him. You stitch the quilt, bid adieu to thinning red tissue. “I haven’t worked on you before today,” you say evenly.
Joel goes quiet again.
“Four more,” you go on, pulling the thread. 
“Don’t know your name,” Joel says.
“Like I said, honey,” you reply. “First time patient.”
Below your hands Joel’s arm twitches at honey, or else it looks like it does, but he keeps it where it lays. “Meant outside of here,” he says.
A grin tucks into your cheek as you shake your head. “Seen you around,” you admit, eyes fixed on his closing wound. “But no. Not officially.”
You swear you feel him squint even though you can’t see his face, not hunched over like this, focused. “Officially,” Joel echoes, as if he’s trying out the word. Rolling it on his tongue, getting a taste. It’s a question without the punctuation—he wants you to elaborate.
“Three left,” you tell him, heart quickening.
Another hmph. A wordless press, another way around asking while still asking. Stupid, you flick your eyes to his face for only a moment, find him already staring at you, his eyebrows folded down so thoughtfully.
“Holding up alright?” you say. 
“What’s officially mean,” Joel asks.
Two stitches, that’s all. Two little knots and you can cut the thread of this conversation and send him on his way. Catch your breath before it shortens when he’s close enough to hear. You shrug. “Means we haven’t introduced ourselves. Haven’t really spoken before.”
He’s frowning in the corner of your eye. “But we’ve met,” he extrapolates.
“Last one,” you say.
“Dodgin’ my question.”
A traitor, your mouth slips up and grins—brief but telling, that shy tense of your cheek. “Barely,” you reply, pinching the needle through his arm once more. You secure the final knot with a small tug and reach behind you for the scissors, then snip. Project done. Quilt mended.
“Alright, just need to clean and wrap it and you’ll be a free man,” you tell him, rolling yourself back on the stool to browse your tray of supplies. Your fingers dance briefly over the gauze and medical tape as you consider your instruments, all the final touches necessary to make things tidy and neat. 
Behind you, the clinic bed squeaks as Joel shifts but you don’t hear his boots touch the floor.
When you roll back to his bedside, he’s sitting up, one leg hinged on the papery bedsheet and the other hooked over the edge at the knee, his boot swaying and laces hanging loose like two long streamers. Impatience bleeds across his face, and though it’s not quite anger in his eyes you nonetheless feel something in your body straighten. Sitting like this, Joel looms over you and your stool. No longer shackled, filthy and blood stained. Dangerous. 
This isn’t fear, though—it’s something worse. 
You hold out one gloved palm, closing your fingers twice in a silent give it here and Joel obeys, setting his forearm in your hand. Warm and heavy and tense—muscle ticking as you drag the alcohol-soaked pad across his stitches.
Your silence broods in the stale clinic air. A vapor you can feel on your skin.
“I was a dick, then,” Joel presses, breaking the uneasy quiet. He’s looking down at his arm as you wind stripe after stripe of stale gauze around the trunk of his injury as if entranced. As if shy. As if ashamed.
“Wasn’t your fault,” you surrender.
“Doubt that.” A dry chuckle follows, to your surprise. Such a warming sound.
Perhaps unprofessional, you laugh softly too and Joel’s head lifts at the sound. “You, uh—” you begin to say, pausing to find the right word. When you’ve got him wrapped well enough, you clip the gauze from the roll. “ We ran into each other in the mess hall, sorta bowled me over. Don’t think either of us was looking where we were going.”
You leave out the bit where he’d spat out watch it as he went, not slowing down for a second. Even then you didn’t blame him—sure, you’d bristled. Frowned, even, as he glared back at you over his shoulder. But he’d been with Tommy, clearly in the middle of some argument, and the anger he swung at you was wrongly aimed. You didn’t care. Later you even found it kind of funny. You’d glimpsed him for years at a distance, heard whispers, and more than a few of your friends had expressed hopeless infatuations with the inscrutable eldest Miller. Reporting that you’d run straight into his solid chest by accident had all of you laughing.
Joel looks to be remembering. Or rather he appears to be failing to, scowl deepening as you tuck the bandage’s end. Without thinking, you bend over to reach for his boot and retie his lace. There. Safe, secure. Fixed. 
“Voila,” you say, then push yourself back from him with a smile. “You are good to go.”
But he doesn’t move. Joel just sits there with his wrapped arm—his bare arm—resting in his lap, twisting one way and then the other, fidgeting. Eyes ticking between bandage and boot, perhaps surprised. “Don’t remember that,” he says. Like this you can see the crown of his head, all those silver laced locks that lick up in all curling directions, tousled and untamed after patrol. His broad frame droops as he sinks into something that looks too much like shame. 
Shaking your head is pointless; he isn’t looking at you. “Was more than a year ago, honey,” you say. “And it really wasn’t anything. I laughed about it, promise.”
Before he can answer, the door swings wide and a grin appears in its frame, squared by that eerie blue light. Ellie’s hair is getting long, the front bits tied back from her face, and the side of her baggy shirt is stained with darkness—Joel’s blood, if you had to guess. Long dry. 
“Hi,” she says to you, eyes round like she’s surprised to find you’re still here, since Joel’s clearly handled. 
“How ya feeling?” you ask.
A short nod, mischief in her grin. “Pretty good.” Then she turns her attention to Joel. “I’m starving.”
So you stand to give them some privacy, collecting everything from your tray that needs cleaning up, bagging the small mountain of red-stained scraps that had mopped the worst of the blood. Another metal creak, then the thump of Joel’s boots as he stands. You hear Ellie say, “Thanks, doc,” and twist over your shoulder to give her a wave.
The door swings closed.
“I wanna see those stitches in a week,” you tell Joel, busy with your tools. “But take the wrap off in a day or two, keep it dry. If you have any trouble—”
“I know where to find you,” he finishes.
He’s almost grinning when you turn your head, eyes crinkled but lips flat, pulling the second sleeve of his flannel back on. Yes, soft was right. You can see it again, clear as ice or moonshine—the tender center tucked under battered shell. 
You watch Joel cross the room with long, loping strides. Your friends might’ve been onto something, unfortunately. You like the shape of him up close, the surety in the way he moves. With his good arm, Joel opens the door and steps into its frame and though you expect him to go without goodbye, he hesitates in the doorway. Props the entrance open with the toe of his boot. 
You lift an eyebrow at him and the muscle of his tongue wets his bottom lip in reply. Fine—your friends are definitely onto something. You feel likely to melt if he intends to keep looking at you like this, with something dark in his eyes. Animal of a different kind.
“I’ll make it up to you,” Joel says, voice drawled and low so as not to be overheard, and here’s another peek at that something softer: his lips curling once more, just enough to dimple one cheek. “Promise.”
“See you in a week,” you tell him, and Joel nods before going.
You expect seven days to pass before you see him again.
He comes back in four.
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dividers by @saradika-graphics - tag list & some mutuals!
@ak-vintage @thethirstwivesclub @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 @hediondoamor-blog @harriedandharassed 
@pedrospatch @jolapeno @la-eterna-enamorada29 @iknowisoundcrazy @guiltyasdave
@littlemisspascal @luxurychristmaspudding @iknowisoundcrazy @evolnoomym @saradika
@spacelatinos4life @sweetpascal @biggetywitch @wannab-urs @helenanell
@pedgito @pastelpinkflowerlife @penvisions @rav3n-pascal22 @sixhours 
@noisynightmarepoetry @kyberblade @beezusvreeland @whiskeyneat-coffeeblack 
@jessthebaker @yopossum @toomanytookas @sawymredfox @galway-girlatwork
@ppascalrain @bbyanarchist @amanitacowboy @milla-frenchy @schnarfer
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mypoisonedvine · 1 year ago
Note
Ok 1 I love your Halloween theme, and 2 can I request a delightfully unhinged threesome between estranged twins, jackson and Dr. Crane 👀
oh my i wonder who could've given you such a ridiculously thirsty idea!!! definitely wasn't me ummm anyways this turned out to be another full length fic, so. yeah.
𝖌𝖊𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖎 | jonathan crane x reader x jackson rippner
length: 3.6k
warnings: NONCON SMUT (dark as fuck, 18+ only, read the warnings), kidnapping, implied stalking, yandere!jonathan, threesome with oral m receiving and breeding kink, housewife kink, slight corruption kink, possibly inexperienced jonathan??
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It was eerie, seeing his twin on the other side of the doorway; it wasn’t quite like looking in a mirror, but it was closer than anything else was.
The differences were obvious, and had only become stronger over time: the hair, the glasses, even the way they dressed. But the biggest difference between the brothers was their smiles… in fact, Jackson was wearing that tilted, toothy grin already. “Well, look at you,” he greeted smugly, “Doctor Crane.”
“I wasn’t sure you’d really come,” Jonathan admitted quietly.
“I wasn’t sure if you’d ever call me again,” Jackson laughed as he stepped inside, despite never actually having been invited in. “Nice place, Doc— guess they pay you pretty good at the looney bin.”
“We, uh, try not to use that term,” Jonathan mumbled as he watched Jackson roam the apartment, getting a little nervous that he might break one of the more expensive decorations or artifacts.
“So, what’s this problem you needed my help with?” Jackson wondered as he spun on his heel to face his brother. “Must be a pretty sticky situation you’ve got yourself in if you have to ring up your big brother.”
“You’re only four—"
“Four minutes older, yeah, I know,” he rolled his eyes, “but somebody had to be first.”
“I need… advice,” Jonathan finally answered, “regarding a sort of… sensitive situation.”
“You can spare the foreplay, Jonny, this isn’t my first time,” Jackson smirked. “Just tell me what happened.”
“Nothing… happened, really,” he sighed, “I just… there’s someone that needs to be… dealt with.”
“If you want a hit, I don’t actually do that,” Jackson explained, “but I can call somebody for you—“
“Not a hit, no,” Jonathan shook his head, “the opposite, really… I need her kept alive.”
Jackson raised an eyebrow. “Oh? A ladyfriend you want protected?”
“Uh, sure,” Jonathan mumbled awkwardly, “but I’ll take care of that. It’s her, um, footprint, if you will. Her old identity, and all that— I need her to disappear, so to speak. W-well, she already disappeared… I just need people to stop looking for her.”
“You know, you’re always full of surprises, Jonny,” Jackson laughed. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you have this woman in your basement.”
“I don’t have a basement,” Jackson replied.
“That’s… not the part I was expecting you to deny…”
Soon enough, Jonathan escorted Jackson to his bedroom, where you were tied to one of the bedposts by your wrists, curled up in a shaking little ball, watching with wide eyes as the two men entered the room. Jackson realized you probably hadn't seen anyone other than Jonathan since getting here-- that, or you were just thinking oh fuck, there's two of them?!
“Why’d you dress her up like that?” Jackson snorted, admiring the vintage-style dress and heels, with a matching set of pearl earrings and necklace. “I didn’t know you were so… traditional.”
Jonathan cleared his throat, his cheeks tinting a bit pink. “Can we just focus on the present issue, please?”
"And what a lovely issue it is," Jackson cooed as he stepped closer to you, admiring you with a tilted head.
You watched him approach with wide eyes, finally speaking in a broken whisper. “Please,” you choked out, “help me— he’s keeping me here, I think he’s gonna kill me—“
“Oh, I’m not worried about that,” Jackson smiled, “he’s real sweet on you. I’d just be worried about whatever freaky shit he’s into.”
“Well, as you can see, she’s not adjusting very well,” Jonathan sighed. “I thought my drugs would help— and she’s pretty obedient when she’s been given a large dose, so I was sort of right— but I can’t keep her high all day, she’ll build a tolerance. And I know her case is going to get a little too much attention, if there isn’t some kind of closure for the police or the family sometime soon. I mean, a beautiful, promising young medical student? Gone without a trace? It’s cable news catnip.”
“You’re right about that,” Jackson agreed. “There’s a pretty face perfect for the papers.”
As Jackson reached to tilt your chin, petting the line of your jaw, Jonathan slapped his hand away. “Hey, hands to yourself,” Crane warned, “she’s mine.”
“Okay, Mr. Defensive,” Jackson widened his eyes, raising his hands like he was perfectly innocent. “How sloppy were you? Are they gonna find any evidence that brings them here?”
“I don’t think so,” Jonathan sighed, “but you can’t be too sure. Even without evidence, she took one of my classes, so if they get desperate enough they can certainly trace her to me.”
Jackson sighed. “That’s tricky,” he nodded. “And it gives us two options.”
“Which are?”
“The happy ending, and the sad ending,” Jackson explained. “Happy ending: I get one of my little computer nerd friends to fake a plane ticket to somewhere exotic. Send a postcard to a friend. Just like that, she’s absconded from her old life, escaped the pressure of med school, and everyone thinks she’s off somewhere getting her groove back or whatever.”
“And the sad ending?”
“Bloody clothing planted by the woods, with a tip that somebody saw her hiking,” he shrugged. “Big bad wolf got to her. Simple as that. That one’s handy because no one’s gonna expect her to come back… and you can have her all to yourself, forever.”
Jonathan bit his lip, obviously excited by the idea. “I'm guessing that will require taking a sample from her?"
"Not too much," Jackson promised, "you're a doctor, you can do it safely."
"She's scared enough of me as it is," Jonathan sighed. "I thought she would... take to it a little faster."
"What, you thought she would like getting kidnapped?"
"I thought she would appreciate how well I can take care of her," Jonathan clarified.
"Oh, Jonny," Jackson laughed, "you haven't learned a thing about women since the last time I saw you, huh?"
Jonathan didn't even have the heart to deny it.
"When they ask if they look fat in something-- you just say no, don't even look, okay? It's like DARE: Just. Say. No." Jackson informed his brother sternly. "And when they say they're not hungry and don't want anything, just order some fries anyway or she's gonna end up with half your entrée. And most of all-- you can't forget this one-- they really dislike being kidnapped and held in captivity."
Jonathan crossed his arms. "I knew that," he announced defensively.
"Let me ask you this," Jackson began with a twinkle in his eye. "Have you used her yet?"
Jonathan shuddered a little, looking embarrassed as he looked at you and then to the floor. "J-just once..." he admitted. "That was... a lapse in restraint. I had wanted to wait until she was more comfortable, but..."
"But you just couldn't help yourself with a sweet little thing like this in your bed, huh?" Jackson finished. "I get it. And she looks cute when she's scared."
You shuddered under Jackson's hungry stare, and he winked at you. "So, you'll take care of it?" Jonathan reminded him. "Happy ending or sad ending, whatever you think is best."
"Well, I'm always a fan of a happy ending," Jackson smirked. "You know speaking of: I figure I can give you a good deal on this whole thing... you know, since you're family."
"Alright," Jonathan nodded.
“I’ll make sure her case is closed… if you let me take her for a spin.”
It seemed to take Jonathan a moment to realize what that meant, before he laughed incredulously. “No,” he asserted, “absolutely not.”
“Oh, don’t be so insecure,” Jackson pouted, “she’ll still be yours when I’m done with her. You can keep her for the rest of your life— I’m just asking for one night.”
"I can pay you very well for your time, Jackson," Jonathan promised.
"Eh, money's boring," Jackson shrugged.
"If I recall correctly, women tend to bore you pretty easily as well," Jonathan accused with a frown.
"Sheesh, you kidnap one woman and you start getting all judgmental that I haven't settled down," Jackson rolled his eyes. "I don't have a lot of time for anything serious, that's all. In fact, I barely have time for anything these days. That's why I figure I can help you break in Mrs. Crane over there."
"I don't need any help," Jonathan promised.
"Except for the part where, if I don't help you, you're probably gonna get caught with a missing woman tied to your bed," Jackson reminded him.
Jonathan sighed, clearly realizing the choice he had to make.
“C'mon, just a little favor for your favorite twin brother? You can stay and make sure I don’t do anything you wouldn’t… approve of,” Jackson rolled his eyes, “you prude.”
"She's innocent," Jonathan breathed, "that's what I liked about her-- it's why I had to bring her here. You'll... you'll ruin her. I can't let you do that."
“Seems like you don’t really have a choice,” Jackson noticed, lowering his voice and leaning in closer to Jonathan.
There was a pause, and finally Jackson turned to leave the room as he patted Jonathan on the back.
"Get a good lawyer, buddy," he offered as his final piece of advice.
But before he could take another step, Jonathan relented with a sigh: “Make it quick.”
“Hey,” Jackson shrugged with a grin as he shed his jacket and tossed it aside, “no promises.”
He all but leapt onto the bed, crawling up to you as you whined and shrunk away.
“Did y’hear that, babydoll? Jonny said it’s my turn to play with you,” he purred.
As you tried to shrink away, he grabbed you by the ankle and pulled you down, forcing you onto your back and keeping your tied wrists above your head as the rope when taut.
He growled as he laid on top of you, leaning in to kiss your neck. “I can make it good for you,” he breathed, “if you behave. It’ll be so much better than whatever my idiot baby brother does to you— promise.”
Jackson's hands crawled up your skirt, and he bit his lip as you kicked your legs in protest.
"Be good, baby," he warned you sharply. "Good girls get a treat... you know what bad girls get?"
You didn't seem that invested in an answer, but he continued anyways as he lowered his voice and spoke by your ear.
"Bad girls get fucked up the ass," he whispered, giving a quick little kiss to the side of your face; suddenly, you relaxed a bit under him and stopped resisting so much. "That's a good girl," he praised, spreading your legs a bit and petting them until he reached higher and found you totally bare under the dress. "Oh my, Jonny didn't even give you panties to wear? Poor baby..."
Jonathan shuddered and crossed his arms, looking away with his head and yet unable to actually look anywhere else but the bed. He was trying to figure out how his brother had gotten you to behave so quickly... when Jonathan had given in to temptation and forced himself on you, it was a constant battle to keep you down as you kicked and screamed and begged him to stop. Whether it was the sight before him now, or the memory of that night, Jonathan felt his cock twitch in his trousers.
Jackson sat up a bit, opening his own pants and sighing as he wrapped his hand around himself. "Fuck, look at that pretty pussy," he purred as he held your legs open wide with his other hand. "Oh, we're gonna have so much fun together, sweetheart."
He spit straight down onto you, smearing it around your opening with his tip, before pressing right up to your hole. He groaned loudly as he slid inside-- one long, slow stroke as he filled you. You whined and shut your eyes tight, but otherwise resisted the urge to struggle.
"Fuuuuck," Jackson purred, holding on tight to your hips as he simply buried himself inside you for a moment. "So tight, honey, Jesus."
Beginning to move, he laid himself down over you and kissed your neck again, moaning against your skin. You whimpered, back arching slightly under him, and he smiled when he felt you tense up as he thrusted into you just a little harder.
"Oh, baby, feel how deep I am?" he grunted. "Feel how good I'm stretching out that little hole? Fuck, keep squeezin' me like that and maybe I will make this quick..."
He grabbed your hips and yanked them up a bit, holding you right where he wanted you-- and sitting up again, so he could get just the perfect angle as he started fucking into you again. Normally he would build up a little more naturally before being so rough but, well, you weren't going anywhere... he could just use you and chase his own pleasure. That said, he still grinned proudly when you moaned suddenly, your head falling back and your back arching. That was when he decided that, even though he had no real obligation to make you come, he was going to anyways-- if for no other reason than to know that he could take total control of your body, and force you to an orgasm even unwillingly.
"Right there?" he taunted as you whined, giving you fast and hard thrusts right into the place that made you bite down on your lip. "Yeah, that's it-- you're getting so wet, honey, you feel that? Gonna soak my fucking cock, aren't you?"
He tilted his head back and shut his eyes, letting himself bask in the feeling for a moment. You made little sounds, obviously trying to hold yourself back, but the longer it went on the less you were able to fight it-- soon you were properly moaning, arching your back deeper, your walls clenching on him rhythmically as you came.
"Fuck, just like that," Jackson praised as he watched you give into it. "Just like that, baby, fucking cream all over me-- good girl."
Jonathan watched in astonishment as you quivered all over, nervously clearing his throat as he tried to conceal the throbbing erection in his pants-- and it seemed to remind Jackson that his brother was still standing nearby.
"What was that about your girl being innocent, Crane?" Jackson laughed. "'Cause she seems like a desperate fucking whore to me."
“H-how’d you make her do that?” Jonathan asked with a shaky whisper, licking his lips a bit as he watched you writhe against the mattress.
“Nothing to it, really,” Jackson smiled, “just gotta find that spot and beat the hell out of it. Here, I’ll show you.”
You whimpered as Jackson pulled out and slid his fingers inside you, curling them against the place that had become more sensitive than ever.
“Right here,” he explained, “you try it.”
He took his fingers out as Jonathan approached the bed— and you felt Jonathan’s fingers slide in a second later, a bit more hesitance to his movements. He let out a wavering sigh, and Jackson smiled.
“Feel the swollen part? Rub her there— hard.”
He curled his fingers slightly and you bit your lip.
“Harder,” Jackson instructed.
“I-I don’t want to hurt her…”
“Well, she needs it rough,” Jackson laughed, “so man up and make her come!”
You yelped when Jonathan harshly pressed into the spot, making your whole body shake as he started to thrust the digits in and out of you. “Wow,” Jonathan breathed as he watched you, his brother smiling proudly next to him.
"She can probably come again pretty fast," Jackson assumed, "you should try. See how fast you can make her scream again."
Jackson, meanwhile, moved to kneel by your head, slapping your face a little to cue you to open your mouth. He groaned as he rubbed his tip over your tongue, forcing you to taste yourself alongside his salty precum.
You unintentionally clench on Jonathan's fingers, and he smiled wide. "Like that?" he asked eagerly. "Are you gonna come again?"
"Just keep doing it," Jackson urged his brother before speaking to you again. "C'mon baby, you can take a little more."
Holding your hair, Jackson started to fuck your mouth a bit more earnestly, making Jonathan frown at him after you gagged a few times. "Be careful," he warned him, "don't hurt her."
"I know, I know," Jackson rolled his eyes. "But look at that mouth, Crane, don't you think it's just made to take cock?"
Jonathan couldn't exactly disagree, he'd fantasized about your mouth plenty of times. But now, he was much more focused on your pussy-- he was watching it closely, enraptured by the way his fingers moved in and out of it... and the way it responded, gripping him tighter and tighter.
"Go on, suck it," Jackson ordered you impatiently, smacking you on the cheek again to try to encourage you. You whimpered and hollowed your cheeks, blinking up at him as he grinned down at you. "Oh, pretty eyes-- I can tell why Jonny couldn't resist you..."
You moaned again, and Jackson raised an eyebrow as he looked down for a moment at what Jonathan was doing-- which was moving his fingers faster inside you, watching you whimper and writhe as you reached the edge again.
"Show me," Jonathan begged, "come for me-- come on my fingers."
It happened pretty quickly, and Jackson let you take a break from sucking him for a second so they could both enjoy your pretty moans as you creamed around Jonathan's fingers.
"O-oh, fuck," Jonathan gasped, "I can feel her... pulsing."
"Yeah," Jackson grinned, "really something, isn't it?"
"Fuck," Jonathan said again, taking his fingers out and suddenly climbing onto the bed. "Need to feel that on my cock."
"Atta boy," Jackson praised with a laugh.
Jonathan moaned loudly as he pushed inside you, your own reaction a muffled groan around Jackson's cock which he shoved between your lips again. "Oh, god," Jonathan whined, "you feel even better than I remember, angel-- fuck, I missed you so much."
He was even more desperate and impatient than before, fucking you quickly and eagerly even though you were far too sensitive for it after coming twice in a row.
Jackson pulled back out of your mouth, but held your head steady as he stroked himself rapidly. “Gonna coat that pretty face,” he growled, “keep your mouth open, baby, I’m close…”
You whimpered and tried to keep your throat shut, afraid to choke on his come while laying back like this, and after a few more moments he groaned loudly as ropes of come fell over your face and onto your waiting tongue. You grunted a little in surprise but just tried to squint your eyes in case some got too close, but the vast majority went into your mouth or over your cheek.
"Fuck," Jackson purred, milking his cock for every drop before finally taking his hand away and sinking back, looking down at you with a new redness and sheen of sweat to his face. "Good girl. You can swallow now baby-- oh, wait, let's make sure you get it all first."
He swiped up the come on your cheek with his thumb, feeding it to you as you closed your lips and swallowed his salty spend.
"I told you good girls get a treat," he grinned.
Jonathan, meanwhile, was panting and whimpering and clearly trying to hold himself back-- but the way he held you tight enough to bruise gave away how close to the edge he really was. "I can't wait," he finally admitted with a groan. "I need to come, angel-- I need to come inside, get you pregnant. Then we can be happy together."
Suddenly, he started to rub your sore clit with his thumb; and you jolted again, pulsing around him as he sighed and dropped his head onto your shoulder.
"Fuck, beautiful-- just like that, let me feel you come again, please. Then I can fill you so deep..."
"You can make her come one more time," Jackson assured, "she's so sensitive-- go on and come for him, baby, let him feel how hard you come..."
Though Jonathan was a little irritated by the way Jackson made it seem like a favor you were doing on his behalf, he couldn't complain when he felt you coming around him, slick walls pulsing so perfectly around him that he had to come with a loud, broken moan. He kept moving until he was sure he'd given you everything, heart racing as he imagined and hoped that he'd properly bred you this time.
Then, there was a silence. Not very long, but plenty nervous as the three of you caught your breath.
"Well... mazel tov," Jackson offered with an awkward laugh, getting up off the bed and getting himself back in order. "I'll call you when it's all taken care of, Jonny. You, uh... you have fun with her, alright? Call if you need anything or, you know... feel like sharing again..."
"I wouldn't hold my breath for that, Jackson," Jonathan sighed.
"Don't miss me too much, honey," Jackson winked at you as he slipped his jacket back on. "But feel free to think about me so you can get off while this guy's fucking you," he joked, motioning to his brother with a tilt of his head.
"Don't listen to him, angel," Jonathan cooed at you as Jackson finally left the room. You shivered a little as he trailed kisses all over your face and neck, holding you a little tighter. "You're all mine-- you finally know that now, don't you?
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rcmclachlan · 30 days ago
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Uh-oh spaghettios, I accidentally wrote more pregnant!Buck.
+
In a shocking twist, the squirrelly-looking resident who's tasked with administering the spinal (and who Tommy keeps side-eyeing like he's mentally preparing himself to take her down if she makes any sudden movements) turns out to be a rockstar, because Buck doesn't even feel the pinch of the local anesthetic, never mind the actual horse needle. Even Nadine, their nurse, blinks after it's over and says, "I've been doing this for thirty-three years and I've never seen a spinal go that smoothly."
Which means the two weeks Buck devoted to reading Reddit posts about bad experiences with pre-C-section subarachnoid blocks were all for nothing. He could've done something more productive with that time instead of silently spiral. Like deep clean the bathroom or build a birdhouse.
He forgets to be mad about it the moment his legs start tingling, and from there it's only a few minutes before his body goes completely numb from the chest down. "Holy shit, that is so weird. It's just—it's a complete void. Babe, punch me."
One of the nurses is in the middle of putting a sterile blue scrub cap over Tommy's hair and stops what she's doing to stare at Buck in horror. Tommy just sighs through his surgical mask and says, "No thanks."
"You could stick your entire arm inside me and I wouldn't even know," Buck tells him, delighted, as they wheel him into the operating room. It really is like there's nothing below his sternum. "You could carry me around and work me like a muppet."
Dr. Esfahani must catch the second half of that because she starts laughing so hard she almost falls off the stool she's sitting on.
"Glad to see we've got our head in the game," she chortles. "How are you feeling, Evan?"
"I'm not!" He says cheerfully while two nurses set up the curtain across his belly. "Doc, have you ever had a spinal block?"
"Sadly, no." Dr. Esfahani's eyes curve above the edge of her mask. "And when I had my kids, their labors were so quick that I didn't have time for an epidural, either. Be grateful you'll never know what it's like to push the equivalent of a Ferrari through a keyhole unmedicated."
"Bad ass," Buck whispers, and she laughs again, then spends the next two minutes introducing everyone on the surgical team. They're all standing at the ready like a NASCAR pit crew.
Once the introductions are over, Dr. Esfahani turns her attention elsewhere. "How about you, Tommy? You ready?"
Tommy's sitting at Buck's shoulder like a particularly attentive German Shepherd, his gloved fingers trembling where they're slotted between Buck's. "I'll just be glad when she's out and Evan gets the all clear."
Months ago their OBGYN walked them through the reality and the risks of carrying to term—for whatever reason, male anatomy means there's a much higher risk of atony, which means a higher risk of hemorrhaging—and Tommy's been a nervous wreck ever since. He thinks Buck doesn't know, and to his credit he's hidden it well. Not once has he ever shown Buck anything less than bright-eyed enthusiasm and excitement about starting this next chapter of their lives, but Buck has woken up more than once in the middle of the night to find himself clutched against a rabbiting heartbeat while Tommy whispered, voice cracking in half, "Please, please, God, please..."
Buck turns his head to look up at him. He looks like what's-his-name at the very end of The Departed: goofy as shit in all the sterile wear the nurses made him put on. He even has to wear the puffy shoe covers. Between the scrub cap and the mask, his face is almost completely obscured, but all it does is highlight his eyes, which are fixed on Buck like there's no one else in the world, let alone the room.
"You look so stupid," Buck says thickly, squeezing Tommy's hand hard enough that something audibly pops. For a second, he thinks he might explode from the sheer build-up of love in his body, which would be so embarrassing, considering everyone in the room is there specifically to make sure he makes it out of here intact. "I've never been more attracted to you. Wanna make out?"
"You know I would, but I don't think they'll give us new masks," Tommy murmurs, every bit as tender and sincere as he was five months into dating, when he'd interrupted Buck's passionate defense of ocean sunfish to say, "I'm in love with you. Sorry. I just—what were you saying about swim bladders?"
"He's right," the scrub nurse says, deadpan. "We're rationing those. You take it off, you're outta here."
Buck squints at her. "I don't think no shirt, no shoes, no service rules apply."
She squints right back. "Please tell me more about the rules of this hospital, Mr. Buckley."
"Evan, stop antagonizing the very nice, very knowledgeable person holding the tray of very sharp instruments," Tommy says. The corners of his eyes are crinkled in a specific way that means it's taking all his willpower to play the rational adult and not join in on the snarkfest.
Seriously. The human body can't hold an entire baby and all this love without serious complications, right? What if they cut into him and he just starts flying around the room like an untied balloon?
"All right, all right," Dr. Esfahani says, clapping her gloved hands together. "Time to add one more child to this veritable daycare. What do you say, Evan, Tommy? Are you ready to become parents?"
The reality of the situation hits him suddenly like a second lightning strike, and he grips Tommy's hand hard as he rides the waves of excitement and terror, inhaling and exhaling through his nose to help ground himself.
He closes his eyes and thinks of Evan Buckley of nine months ago, sliding to the floor of Tommy's bathroom and weeping bitterly because the test in his hand was a death knell for the relationship he'd finally found after searching his whole life.
If he could go back in time—before Tommy got so freaked out by Buck's incoherent sobbing and the locked bathroom door that he broke it down; before Buck babbled apology after apology for his parents' negligence by not having him tested for the carrier gene, for being the one to suggest they stop using condoms in the first place, for wanting to keep it even though it meant the end of them; before Buck took the test because Chim had jokingly said earlier that day, "you've looked and acted like a wrung-out sponge all week, are you pregnant or something?" and felt like the ground was crumbling beneath his feet when the little plus sign appeared—he would take that scared, resigned man into his arms and tell him that everything was going to be okay. Better than okay, even. Everything was going to be amazing beyond his wildest dreams.
"He stays," Buck would whisper, and hold him so tight they'd start to merge. "Not because he thinks he has to, but because he wants to. He stays because he loves you and what you've made together. You're enough. Isn't that wild?"
When Buck opens his eyes, Tommy's right there, looking at him with so much love and pride in his gaze that it's palpable. Literally. She's moving around in his belly like she's doing stretches to prepare for what's about to happen. Like she's every bit as impatient as they are to finally be part of the life they're building.
"I'm not scared if you're not," Buck rasps, and tilts his head up as Tommy leans down and kisses him through the mask.
"Speak for yourself: I'm terrified. But when has that ever stopped us?" Tommy presses another kiss to his mouth like a notary affixing an official seal. "Let's get this show on the road, huh? Let's meet our kid."
An hour and change later, they lay her, clean and perfect and swaddled into a sleepy burrito wearing a little hat, on Buck's chest where she gets to hear his heartbeat from the outside for the first time.
He stares down at her, awed speechless, and thinks, oh, now I'm going to explode from love. Everyone hit the deck.
Tommy doesn't get to hold her for almost fifteen minutes because he's crying so hard that Dr. Esfahani refuses to hand her over until she's reasonably sure Tommy won't drop her.
"I think Dad needs to take pointers from you," Buck murmurs to her tenderly. She squirms a little in a way that feels like agreement before she falls asleep, already bored with existence. "Your daughter says you're totally not the cool dad."
"That's fair," Tommy sobs into Buck's scrub cap.
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poge-life · 6 months ago
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heyyy. can u do a drew starkey imagine where both him and the reader are members of the obx cast and they are at the pougelandia event and they are in a secret relationship but they are constantly doing cute stuff throughout the event but the reader gets a bit tipsy a bit tipsy and outs their secret by accidentally kissing him on stage and the whole crowd reacts and screams. also sorry if this really long.
Ugh, I absolutely loved this one!
This was probably the best event you had ever been to. Jonas had decided to do a big ‘Poguelandia’ event to kick off season 3 and there were hundreds of people here. You absolutely loved how much support the show got and how happy this event made people. Maddy and you had pregamed before you left, as always.
You guys had been dating for a year and it was the best year of your life. You guys had immediately kicked it off when you met and then one thing led to another and you started dating. You both decided to keep it a secret from the public, just knowing how cruel the media could be and would try and twist you guys apart. Obviously, your friends knew; considering it would be hard to hide it from the people you were always with.
You guys had shown up separately; you arriving with the girls and Drew arriving with the guys. And boy, were you having a hard time keeping your hands to yourself. His hair had grown out again and he opted out of styling it, leaving it messy. He was wearing his green jacket with a white Tee underneath, pairing it with black jeans and his black converse. Going for a more casual look, you had a black cropped button up tucked into a black skirt with white flowers on it and slit up the side. You paired it with platform docs and gold jewelry.
Everyone had been split into different groups for all the stuff going on; you were with Carlacia and Maddy while Drew was with Austin. Carlacia had mistakenly left you and Maddy unsupervised at the bar and to no one’s surprise, you both got tipsy. It was no ones fault but her own. She had been told when she joined the cast to never let you and Maddy be alone at any kind of bar or else you’ll drink them out under the table.
Once the performance’s started, you guys all made your way up to the platform, to get away from the crowd and have some time with your friends. You stood in front of Drew with Chase on one side you and JD on the other. You all were just having a good time with each other and you couldn’t have thought of a better group of people to be friends with.
You leaned back against Drew, looking up at him as he looked down at you. He chuckled at your appearance; cheeks all red and rosy but he couldn’t tell if it was from being in the sun all day. Or, it might be the fact that you’re wearing all black in 70 degree weather.
“Having fun?” He asked, letting out a laugh as you had a dopey grin on your face as you nodded, “The best fun. I haven’t been this relaxed in a long time.”
“Good,” He smiled, placing a hand on your waist, thumb brushing the skin exposed between your skirt and shirt. Goosebumps showed up at the feeling of his cold ring against your skin that had been warm all day but it was comforting and very much needed. It probably wasn’t the best idea to be drinking in the heat but you didn’t care. This day was about you and your friends and you were going to enjoy it.
“What?” Drew asked, once he realized you were still staring at him. You shrugged, turning around to lean on the bar, “Can’t I just appreciate how good looking my boyfriend is?”
“Uck. You guys are gross.” Chase mumbled, brushing past you two as JD followed after him.
A/N
Please feel free to let me know if you guys want me to continue this fic!!
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incognitoblogger · 2 days ago
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Call Me Gerald Pt. 1
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This hasn't always been my body and my life. To this day I can't help but be a little silly on camera knowing that I'm the one dressing this perfect, mature body in this neon tank while enjoying a boat day with a plethora of new friends. You see, I used to be in my late 20's living a comfortable yet lonely life. I wasn't in despair or anything, but I had already settled into a mundane routine and lost some motivation to keep fit and trim. This was just my new normal, but everything changed when Gerald Turner moved onto my street. I was instantly enamored by him and the ease of his life. Now don't get me wrong, he had worked hard for decades to set himself up for an early retirement, but now his schedule was clear and he lived a life fully on his own terms.
Admittedly, I overcame my shyness because of the intensity of my crush and made chit chat welcoming him to the neighborhood when I saw the moving truck bringing his lifetime of belongings to the nicest house on our street. He was confident, kind, and effortlessly magnetic...qualities I wish I had...but because of his good nature, he did all the heavy lifting in our small talk and made the first neighborly move of inviting me over for a housewarming when he was better settled in. As the months went on, we became friendlier. It wasn't uncommon for us to chat over some beers and BBQ, and I even forced myself to watch some sports with him.
I learned that despite his ability to make rapid connections with people, he was still incredibly lonely in his own way. He had met his wife while they were both in undergrad, and then they both had separate and successful careers. Gerald went on to law school and practiced for about 20 years, starting several successful side businesses that were essentially passive income at this point. He then left his law firm to teach law for almost a decade purely to keep himself intellectually stimulated and to pay it forward to the newest generation of legal minds. Along the way he had had several children with his wife, and in recent years even became a beloved grandfather. But everything changed when his wife had an affair with her yoga instructor. Gerald rightfully filed for a divorce, but his ex wife poisoned their family with lies and manipulations. All of Gerald's children sided with his ex wife and went fully no contact with him. Gerald, this dynamic, sexy, and put-together man literally burst into tears one night telling me how much it hurt him everyday that he would probably never be able to see his children or grandchildren ever again.
I was sympathetic to the best of my ability and tried to reassure him that I appreciated his friendship and that I was here for him when he pulled himself together and started to apologize to me...but I must regretfully admit that this fully-deserved breakdown tainted my view of Gerald. Here was a man who had accumulated wealth beyond what I would ever be able to...who had a natural charisma and magnetism...and undeniable sex appeal...
It might have been the beers clouding my judgement, but a seed was planted in the back of my thoughts: He doesn't know how good he has it. I would do a much better job living the rest of his life.
From then on, it became insufferable to hang out with him. And I fully admit I was the one in the wrong, but forever more I just couldn't look at him without fully believing he was letting his family schism trap him in an optional hell. He doesn't have to feel that way.
If I were him, I certainly wouldn't be held back by some crazy ex-wife and ungrateful children.
I don't want to wear you down with exposition, so let's just say I had a medical tragedy. Gerald was actually the only one who came to visit me in the hospital according to the visitation logs. This softened my tainted view of him and made me regret how I had been fantasizing about replacing him...until my first night back in my house...
See, the docs told me that I had actually profoundly died and they basically performed resuscitative efforts purely out of formality, but somehow my heart jumped back online and then a surgical team was able to get me in fully stable condition. I was still slightly grieving that my new life would entail severe physical mobility limitations. It made me regret wasting my 20s and not being more active when I actually had youth and opportunity on my side. But youth wasn't even the issue because I watched Gerald arrive home from one of his shirtless evening jogs looking amazingly virile over the age of 50...I was envious again and just wanted to call it an evening. But as I closed my eyes, instead of drifting into a state of unconsciousness that I wouldn't remember, I felt my body losing its tangibility...shedding all of my concrete tethers to the world of the living...
I opened my eyes and screamed as my body seemed to have transformed into some sort of spiritual energy form. My visage floated clumsily and helplessly around my bedroom like a rookie astronaut in a space movie until I found that through sheer willpower I could mentally control the direction in which I hovered. I was still in a state of pure panic as I tried to grab my bed to anchor myself and my hands just traveled through all of the solid matter. This was impossible! I couldn't even grab the phone to make a call and my screams failed to activate Alexa, but in my existential terror I convinced myself that maybe I would still be able to communicate with another living person. Even though that theory made no sense, I'm oh so glad that I rushed over to Gerald's house, floating through his walls screaming my spiritual head off until I arrived at his bedroom and went dead quiet.
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Despite being significantly older than me, Gerald was literal perfection in my eyes. It was enough to stop me in my tracks until I reminded myself of my existential nightmare and began screaming at him to wake up. Nothing... I tried to pick up a pillow to throw at him and my hands just phased right through it. I tried to use my willpower to influence the electronics in the room to glitch out like on the ghost shows I used to love and nothing happened...Finally, in an act of frustration I pounded on his chest and to my shock his eyes shot open and he instantly woke with a gasp. I wasn't sure if he could see me, so I tried to quickly pull my hands out of his sculpted chest, but to my shock and horror I couldn't remove my hands. It was the opposite, like quicksand or one of those finger trap toys. My effort to pull out my hands actually caused a rebound effect that pulled in more of my energy until I was inside him to the elbow.
Gerald grabbed his chest and obviously thought he was having a heart attack. In his panic he began reaching for his phone to call 911, but I panicked and didn't want him to get so scared over a false alarm so I pulled with all my might until my astral form could not pull for even a second longer, but this, predictably, sent me towards him like a slingshot and I was now inside him up to the shoulders. The force of this actually hurled Gerald back onto his bed away from the nightstand and he just groaned in confusion and fear as he reached towards the nightstand, now too far on his bed to grip anything but soft white sheets.
My mind was in a panic state at this point, so I figured maybe fighting was the issue and I just have to sink into him in order to be able to get out. I really had no suspicion or thought that this would have any consequence other than occupying the same physical space as him, so I stopped fighting and instead positioned my astral form on top of Gerald and allowed myself to start fully melting into him. Gerald seized and winced as this started to happen, but then I'm not sure what transpired. All I know is I could hear him grunting No No No NO and then I couldn't see a thing. I just felt warmer the deeper I got inside him and then I felt myself whip around 180 degrees and fully disappear inside of his form. For a second I just felt darkness and emptiness. I could hear and feel the sound of Gerald's deep labored breathing and then in an instant I felt like I had been destroyed and dispersed in a massive surge of energy before reforming. Little did I know, my astral form had gone from merely occupying the same space as Gerald to fully bonding with every cell of his body.
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I suddenly had normal vision, albeit a bit blurrier than my old sight and I gasped with a deeper and huskier voice. I also felt my weight pressing down on a pillow, but this was all different. For a second I thought this whole experience must have been a dream or a hallucination, but this was not my bedroom...this was Gerald's...and that means that this body must be...
Holy Shit, I'm Gerald!
I let off a healthy stream of panicked expletives given these absurd circumstances, but eventually that seemed unproductive. Out of curiosity I rolled back onto my errr Gerald's back and surveyed the room while thinking. Admittedly, my problem-solving brainstorm session did not last long because I was distracted by this fit and sculpted body coated in the ideal amount of masculine hair.
I should call someone.
I grabbed Gerald's phone and got a chill of satisfaction as I bypassed his Face ID, but then I realized that 911, anyone I knew, or any of his other friends would get me committed to an asylum if I called claiming to be Gerald's neighbor who accidentally possessed him...
No no no I've seen too many movies. We're NOT doing that.
Fuckkkk I hated myself slightly for feeling his cock engorge slightly. It was just really erotic for me to hear his sexy voice expressing my own thoughts.
Okay Focus.
Before I got up in a tizzy I convinced myself that the honorable thing to do was to try to phase back out of Gerald's body and let him think he just had a bad dream. The minutes passed as I tried intense willful focusing and muscle clenching as if I could push myself out. When that left me exhausted and covered in a light sheen of sweat I tried more meditative styles to maybe loosen my hold on him and just slip out peacefully, but none of that had any effect. And you might judge me for admitting this, but after making a good college try I rapidly reached the conclusion that maybe this was for the best. Now the logical part of my mind knows that's nonsense, but the carnal, devious side of my mind was able to gaslight myself a bit. I didn't have anything worth going back to...And Gerald here wasn't exactly loving his retirement with all of his family issues...Maybe neither of us could individually thrive, but my spirit controlling his body and identity...at least that could create one fulfilled and happy person...
Oh it was all too easy for me to believe that lie. I don't know how I got here, but I wasn't going to fight to remove myself from this situation. No...this was clearly meant to happen. I am Gerald now.
I am Gerald Turner.
That gave me a devious shiver of delight to hear those words leave my new mouth...
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I quickly took some erotic bed selfies showing off this gorgeous body for Grindr...not able to resist the urge to start worshipping myself. The clicks and dings sounded off in the background like my own little homoerotic symphony as I fished my now rock hard and leaking cock out of Gerald's little boxer briefs and gripped it firmly with my new right hand. This was a hand that had lived a full life and this was a girthy and perfectly straight 8 inch cock that had pleasured many women in Gerald's younger years and bred 3 children with his crazy ex-wife.
"Never Again," I cooed as I tightened my grip and slowly started stroking. "This cock is never pleasuring another woman...Ever Again!"
The authority in my voice made my new toes clench as if on autopilot and I shuddered as I bit my lower lip and tossed my head to the side, ravenously inhaling a pillow to take in my new scent before going right to the source. I lifted my new left arm and huffed in the essence of my new pit.
"Fuckkkkkk," I groaned like a reborn slut as my perfect daddy dick pulsated with desire. "I'm never giving this up! Even if I found a way to get out...Never happening!"
I grit my teeth now after aggressively spitting in my hand to lube myself up. My abs looked so shredded as I thrust up into my grip, all while worshipping those abs, pecs, and nipples with my free left hand.
"Jesus, Gerald! These nips are sensitive as hell!" I hollered out as I teased those nips good--alternating back and forth until the combo of this teasing and cock pleasure had me literally kicking my legs out and digging my new big feet into the bedding. My new toes were clenched harder than ever as I tried to get even more leverage to fuck my slick grip. On and on this went for minute after minute...the pleasure reaching new and new peaks all while I got lost in the selfishness of this moment and berated my former friend, unaware if he was gone forever or if he could hear me from some dark corner of his mind.
"I'm Gerald! You hear that Gerald? This is MY body now! You're NEVER getting this back! You're NEVER coming back!!"
And with that my back arched and I instinctively grabbed the bed sheets before quickly scooping up my new balls to jostle them around as the first shot of my load launched out with so much force that it smacked me in the mouth and splashed all over my face. I licked up as much as I could with my tongue, moaning in approval at the deliciousness of my own new essence as I kept going.
I roared in delight with each pump and thrust milking out more and more of this still virile seed--first coating my neck and chest and eventually my new abs as the shots gradually lost intensity. Finally, I was still milking this cock with fully dry shots...still in so much orgasmic pleasure...coated in well over an ounce of hot seed and still helplessly wincing and whining as I desperately tried to get out just one final drop. I finally watched that final droplet crest out of my new cock slit and then I relaxed--crashing back onto the bed in a soaking wet sweaty heap...sighing in euphoria and satisfaction while massaging this copious amount of cum all over my new body.
When my afterglow finally faded, I got back into my new phone with Face ID again...smirking as I scrolled through my dozens of prospectives on Grindr. I wasn't going to be bogged down by Gerald's awful family issues. In fact, it worked to my advantage. It gave the perfect cover and disconnect from his roots for me to truly have a fresh start with this body's wealth and physical beauty. I get to write my own destiny now in a body and life that makes me feel motivated to make the most of every new day. That realization is making me get hard again already...Well hot damn, I better pick one of these Grindr hotties quick so I have some company for round 2...
Be on the lookout for Part 2. I'd love to make this almost a diary style series where I recount my ongoing adventures and developments as Gerald. And let me know what you think! I didn't really think this through--I just kind of got inspired by photos and busted this out in one chaotic burst, so I know the perspective and tense shifts are little crazy. haha I will try to write all future entries from the perspective of a real diary--as if I'm recounting events that have happened that day/week.
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incorrectbatfam · 7 months ago
Note
Batfam at the dentist HCs/incorrect quotes, please?? 🤲 I have a big surgery coming up and I'm terrified
Dick: What's up, doc?
Leslie: What are you doing?
Dick: Daffy Duck. I'm thinking of a new career as a voice actor.
Leslie: Okay but can you not do it with a mouthful of sharp objects?
———————
Cass: *brings a punch card and a knocked-out tooth*
Leslie, sighing: Here we go again.
Leslie: *stamps the card*
Leslie: Your next one is free.
———————
Leslie: *in the middle of the checkup*
Steph, getting up: Hang on, my Uber Eats is here.
Leslie: You ordered takeout to a dental appointment?
Steph: Efficiency.
———————
Leslie: You have a helmet. How did you still break your tooth?
Jason: *flashback to throwing his helmet at Dick, missing, and it bouncing back*
Jason: Enough with the questions, okay?
———————
Leslie: Ever consider braces?
Kate: I don't want any part of me to be straight.
———————
Leslie: Oh, you're early! Just check in with the receptionist and take a seat until I call you.
Bette: *goes up to the receptionist*
Bette: Checking in for Bette Kane.
The receptionist: Sorry, I don't have you down here.
Bette: Maybe try my full name? Mary Elizabeth Kane?
The receptionist: Still don't see you.
Bette: I should have an appointment for 2:00 today.
The receptionist: *typing*
The receptionist: I see you now. The doctor's right, you are early. Your appointment is tomorrow.
———————
Selina: *using cat claws as a toothpick*
Leslie: This might be an issue.
———————
Leslie: Say "ahh."
Tim: *screams*
———————
Leslie: You're bleeding because you don't floss.
Harper, who came in after a mission: ...
———————
Leslie: —but I cannot stress this enough, it's important to wear a mouthguard for all contact sports. And some non-contact sports. And training. And patrol. And walking through Gotham. And whenever you're around the Waynes. Actually, I'm just gonna give you the box. Take your time. Pick whatever colors you want. If you need me, I'm gonna be in my office questioning my life choices.
Luke:
Luke: ...I just asked how her day was.
———————
Bruce: Are you sure there's no tooth fairy? Because the Justice League has state-of-the-art tracking system that can locate them. I really think we can form a contract to expand social programs for children.
Leslie: Just shut up and let me do my job.
———————
Leslie: Everything's looking good except for a few minor spots.
Barbara: Yeah, well, call me when they invent stainless coffee.
———————
Leslie: I recommend removing your wisdom teeth.
Alfred: But that's where I keep my wisdom.
———————
Leslie: I see you still have one last baby tooth. It should've come out by now.
Damian: Father said to keep it in.
Leslie: Why?
Damian: He wants me to stay a baby.
———————
Leslie: Cullen, you're next.
Cullen: *climbing out the skylight*
Leslie: Wow.
Leslie: That's actually impressive for a non-vigilante.
———————
Leslie: Hey, Helena. I thought you were off duty this week. How'd you knock a molar loose?
[earlier]
Students: *fighting in the hall*
Helena: Break it up! All of you go to the office! And delete that video!
[present]
Helena: I need a raise.
———————
Carrie: I don't get it. I brush twice a day AND floss. How do I still have cavities?
Leslie: What do you brush with?
Carrie: Toothpaste, obviously.
Leslie: And what do you floss with?
Carrie:
Leslie: Carrie...
Carrie: The British call it candy floss for a reason, don't they?
———————
Leslie: Well done today, Duke. Have a sticker.
Duke: Why are they all the Justice League?
Leslie: Funding comes with a catch.
Duke:
Duke: *picks the Flash*
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dear-ao3 · 1 month ago
Text
the 2024 formula 1 silly season and drama master post, part 2 (part 1 here)
Hello and welcome to ah fucking fuck auto caps fuck fuck fuck how do i turn off auto caps AHA there we go okay. take 2
hello and welcome to the great and very insane formula 1 2024 season drama post, part 2. if you are new here or are just looking for part one (which contains the previous 16 (?) races, the off season, pre season testing and everything else, that can be found HERE. (a word to the wise: open it in a browser, not the app, and preferably on a computer to avoid crashing. its fucking long). 
what the hell is formula 1? car go fast. fastest cars in the world zoom around tracks at top speeds of over 300kph, piloted by the top 20 drivers in the world. it might not sound dramatic, but oh man. you will Not be disappointed. this post focuses on the drama, the insanity, the sheer what the hell how is this a serious sport. no legitimately. we've just about seen it all this year. grindr, dogs, watersports, ice cream brands, its all here.
the point of this post? to educate, to catalog the insane drama, and to just have a good time. people like to gatekeep this sport, there is also a lot happening. i try to make it easy to understand. again, probably best to start at the beginning of the post because it does a pretty good job of explaining things, which i began way back in january, and can be found HERE (again, shes long, be careful)
and, as usual, if you do not want to see this post EVER AGAIN, block the tag #saph explains silly season 2024
and a second caution, i assume this post will be getting long as well. including this one we have minimum 9 updates left!
anyway, those of you who have been following along the whole time, welcome back! i know we got a little delayed. and i know we’re on a new post, so lets just briefly take a second for me to explain what the fuck happened. first i had an anatomy test, second i work 2 jobs with fuck ass hours, third tumblr decided to stop letting me look at any of my drafts, fourth tumblr support ghosted me about the drafts issue and the post was half saving half not so i just decided fuck it, were going with post 2, electric boogaloo, and fifth, i decided to start typing this instead in a google docs so. many changes. if you're new here i am usually more on top of this.
but here we are. were back on street circuits. we’re in baku, azerbaijan, for the start of the last third of the season. 8 races remain, world championship titles are still within grasp of multiple people. the drama is dramaing. and today is september 22, 2024 and lets fucking go. 
first and foremost, on account of the fact that this post is late (again, see above), were going to have to do a bit of a speed run. if you're new here, i promise that this is not representative of my normal dedication to the update post. and for those asking, yeah, ill probably compile it somewhere better than a tumblr post after its all said and done, but we don't have time for that now. 
what we do have time for is the Off Week (and like some of the media stuff). and it was filled with silliness: 
george russell decided to wear what can only be described as slightly ugly yellow short shorts with his taylor swift shirt that he got at the eras tour. this was baffling for several reasons, the main reason being that i don't think the internet knew that he was capable of wearing a graphic t shirt
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fernando alonso got his aston martin valkyrie finally. in case you are unfamiliar, a valkyrie i think is the worlds fastest street legal car. he posted tweets about this that made it seem like he wanted to fuck the car. hilariously, the car broke down an hour later.
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we also had the very thrilling conclusion to grill the grid. oscar won and he somehow managed to look more pleased about his grill the grid win than his first race victory. 
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nico rosberg went to the green awards and he wore a fantastically insane teal blue suit. yes i know hes not a current driver. but you all like hearing about him so ask and you shall receive. unfornunately i cant find a picture of it though
and also not a current driver is mick schumacher, but my roommate asked me to include that he was seen on his girlfriends instagram being bad at golf. like. exceptionally bad at golf. like he hit a tree 20 feet in front of him.
also playing golf was lando norris. except he managed to look like try bolton from high school musical 2.
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he also talked about the world driver championship with his friend max fewtrell while they were playing golf. unfortunately i lost this link in the sea of technical difficulties, but the gist of it was that he was saying that there is still hope for him to beat max in the championship (hes about 60 points behind right now). lando doesnt usually talk about the championship because he doesnt want news outlets to paint him as “desperate” so this was interesting
charles leclerc had an insane off week. first he rear ended someone in monaco. then he spoke at a yacht conference. he was not scheduled to speak at said yacht conference, he was there doing something else and they were like hey you're cool people know you, heres a microphone. he alsp ended up on a weather channel while promoting a karting event he was doing for the jules bianchi foundation (his god father, the one who died during the f1 race in japan 2014). he also changed his instagram pop and re centered it because some random tiktoker told him it matched his aesthetic better.
oscar piastri posted a photo of himself sitting in the cockpit of a plane and then promptly deleted it. because he posted it on 9/11. for anyone who doesnt know what that is, that was when some terrorists hijacked commercial planes and few them into the world trade centers in nyc and the pentagon in washington dc
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max verstappen also posted a plane pic with himself and lando norris, but he did not delete it.
we also had the return of daniel ricciardo’s jpg instagram account, which is kinda like a finsta for photos that hes taken. i think lando started this a few years ago. 
heading into the race week we certainly got a weird ass batch of pr. including but not limited to:
lewis hamilton was back on top and slaying in the fit game. as was yuki. 
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lewis hamilton also exposed george russell as listening to katy perry pre race. katy perry and taylor swift (this was after he claimed that he liked listening to old school rap music.) though, lewis then started singing wrecking ball???? confusing vibes all around
george was not off the hook yet tho because some intern definitely make him say skidibidi toilet or whatever the thing is idk, i might be gen z but im not insufferable, okay? actually george in baku was just all kinds of unhinged
george and alex also got up to something, what it is no one knows but it is clearly something
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max pulled up to the paddock de aged about 10 years. picture one is of him in baku in 2015 (i believe he was 17) and picture 2 is this year. no i am not kidding. 
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and franco walked into the paddock telling everyone about argentinian mate (which is a drink, not a friend)
and max shoved a microphone out of the way so everyone could gossip
then of course, we had some slightly more relevant drama
haas announced that ollie would be replacing kevin at baku. in case you forgot, kevin magnussen received a total of 12 penalty points over the season so far, which means he gets one race ban. how did he get the points? well he was mostly wreaking havoc on everyone else so that his teammate, nico hulkenberg, could drag his car into the points. lets all remember the time in saudi arabia where he managed to get 20 seconds of penalties by basically driving like a mad man just to make sure that nico could keep his position after he pit stopped. anyway, nico was kind of pissed about the race ban situation and said “maybe the guidelines for F1 penalties need to be reviewed as the stewards ‘want to get involved’ no matter the contact.”
in any case though, k mags was out. and ollie was in. we’ve seen ollie before. notably he subbed in for carlos sainz at the saudi arabia gp when carlos had appendicitis. he managed to get points as well. since then, he has been announced as a haas driver for 2025 and is now subbing in for k mags (haas, later in the week called him a super sub. clearly no gen z person read that over.) he can do this because ferrari has a haas engine so they share reserve drivers.
adrian newey finally got employed. i know! i can hardly believe it either! but he did! and youll never guess where! 
ferrari? no that would be too obvious. 
mercedes? nah
williams? no too much of a shit show
aston martin? ding ding ding! just the right amount of shit show! 
that is right. newey is going to aston for 2025. 
apparently he was offered a “good package” according to himself, which i assume means pay and also the fact that lawrence stroll made him a shareholder? stakeholder? whatever its called. in the team itself. basically he has a lot of power. 
he said that he always wanted to work with fernando and lewis. and he couldn't do both. and aston had a better package than ferrari. 
fernando looked positively evil during all the announcement pictures. and called the team "definitely the team of the future" and for those of you who don't know, fernando is positively evil. hes just been stuck in a shit box and we havent seen very much of him, but man does he know how to evilly slut it up. so that will be fun to see.
by contrast, people said that lance was not excited enough. and well. lance 1. has resting bitch face and 2. never really looks excited about anything. also he lives in a world where take your child to work day somehow became his job. (his dad owns the team).
lewis hamilton was asked what he thought about adrian not going to ferrari, and here's what he had to say:
"i feel like, while I have mentioned before that it would be an honor to work with adrian, i have been privileged to work with two championship winning teams that didnt have adrian."
mclaren announced pato o ward would do FP1 in mexico. who is pato o ward? hes one of mclaren’s indycar drivers and one of the f1 reserve drivers. he is incredibly charming and definitely runs his own social media as seen here:
mclaren Also claim they figured out who their number 2 driver is and they claim its oscar. i say they claim because the statements were a lot more complex than that. essentially, according to andrea stella, the priority is to the team first, then lando and then oscar. so they didn't outright say that oscar is the number 2 driver and i am willing to bet real money that this is because mr mark webber, oscars manager, has something in oscars contract that prevents him from being a number 2 driver. this is of course because mark webber was one of the most infamous number 2 drivers in f1 history to none other than menace war criminal sebastian vettel, who in their time as teammates, managed to win 4 back to back world champions. or, top to bottom if you're mrs darbus from high school musical. 
lando was asked about this and he said that yes, the team does support him. though he would not expect oscar to give up a win for him and that it is more complex behind the scenes. i suppose we will see if there are any papaya rules coming out this weekend….
and oscar said "i think the main point is its not purely just going to be me pulling over for lando every single race, because thats how none of us, including lando, wont want to go racing, if we feel that someone has done a much better job on a weekend, whichever way it is, we want that person to be rewarded."
max verstappen commented on the mclaren situation as well. which was funny mostly because red bull has one of the most defined number 1 and number 2 drivers of any team. he said "you look at it form oscar's perspective, he is closer to lando than lando to me. they have to deal with that."
and allow me to put on a tin foil hat as we are about to talk about the future of the red bull seat. because all i have to offer here is a baseball hat and a red bull can. 
a long time ago we talked about the red bull cans. the ones that red bull makes to promote f1. at the end of last season red bull put max and checo on the red bull can. this season at the start it was just max on the red bull can. well. now checo has reappeared on the cans too. and i will tell you what i think this means. it means that checo is not getting swapped this season, which was a possibility for awhile. 
but! there is more! 
daniel ricciardo made an instagram post this week. and it was very interesting. but most interestingly he was wearing a red bull hat.
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which he does occasionally, no big deal really. he did race for the for several years, he technically does currently. BUT then he showed up TO THE PADDOCK wearing the red bull hat.
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which is Big Interesting. usually you show up in a statement outfit or wearing the team kit. and daniel is not a red bull racing driver. he is a visa cashapp racing bulls driver. they might be owned by red bull but they are Not the same team. so why the red bull hat. in the paddock. well, the rumor is that hes taking checos seat for 2025. and the rumor is that this will be announced before mexico. so checo can have a proper send off. 
and with that. the baku lore. 
theres a lot that has happened at baku. as i said its a street circuit. and i think its the fastest street circuit. but over the years theres been some notable events. 
such as the great kimi raikkonen radio for gloves and steering wheel:
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they gave mini kimi this week gloves and steering wheel in honor of that
the max and daniel crash in 2018 when they were running p1 and p2 respectfully
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and of course. how could we forget. charles’s infamous “i am stupid” radio.
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speaking of charles, he crashed again in fp1. not quite in the same spot, but nearly. he took a picture with the marshalls. 
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then in fp2 he rage quit, basically saying that the car sucks. 
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but he was back and better than ever in practice three because he managed to top the time charts. welcome back fuck ass ferrari.
some other teams definitely experienced the lows but not really the highs of baku during practice. like lance stroll who came on the radio to say “this is not a car” (good thing they have adrian newey now, right? 
franco colapinto also cut his ear before practice on the neck strengthener stretcher thing that they all use and the team wanted to give him stitches but he was like no no no i need to be in the car in about 5 minutes im not doing that. so he jammed on his helmet and jumped in the car. he also crashed and when he went to the medical center he took off his helmet and there was blood everywhere and they were like no no no you cannot race! and he was like no! this is not from the crash! and then explained it and they let him do qualifying. 
also im pretty sure? ollie bearman crashed? in practice? but frankly i don't have time to google it so whos to say. 
but alas. qualifying. 
i know i know this is kind of a shitty update. i promise ill go all out in singapore. i PROMISE. 
so as i said. its a street circuit. high speed. 90 degree corners. and also windy as hell. we also had the dynamic duo of karun and harry in the commentary box. 
max led the first practice, george led the second and i think charles led the third. or some order like that. 
slipstream here is almost essential (slipstream: going behind another car to reduce the wind drag so you can go faster) 
charles has the last three pole positions (first in qualifying) here in baku, but he has never won. by comparison, red bull have never had pole here but they have won. 
and franco has never been to baku before. 
i think that's all the exposition that we need here. 
q1 started with max complaining about his car. “the car is jumping around like crazy on the rear axle” he said. despite this he was sitting in p3. 
the mid field battle though….the mid field battle was heating the hell up. mostly because none other than franco colapinto, who if you will remember, has never been to baku before, had split the two ferraris. he was in third for the moment, .109 seconds behind carlos sainz and .159 seconds ahead of charles leclerc. we still had a lot of qualifying left to go, so this was probably not going to stay, but it was still insane. he was pushing insanely hard, nearly kissing the walls. clearly he had learned from his crash in practice. 
the two mclarens waited until the very end of q1 to do their final flying push lap, and oscar made it through, but tragedy struck for lando. 
lando was in the middle of his last flying lap, time was ticking down, and there was a Very Brief yellow flag on the track. now, according to rules, you cannot complete your flying lap if there is a yellow flag. so lando pitted and was stuck down in 17th and out of qualifying. this would be the first time that he was out in q1 since vegas last year (which if i remember correctly was also not his fault) 
now though, of course nothing is ever that cut and dry. people thought that there had been a mis showing of a flag. yellow flag means that a car is stopped on track, white flag means that a car is going slowly on the track. and people thought that there had been a yellow flag shown when it was actually supposed to be a white flag (if there had been a white flag then lando would have been able to keep doing his flying lap) lando himself said that he had no idea what people were talking about because there is a light on the steering wheel that lights up when flags are called and he had a big yellow light. so it was clearly a yellow flag. 
if you're concerned about lando being able to pull it out of the bag, id like to point you in the direction of the mexican gp last year where lando qualified 17th and finished 5th. on a track that was hard to overtake on. he can be absolutely insane when he wants to be. worry not gentle reader. 
in any case. also out in q1 was daniel ricciardo, valtteri bottas, zhou guanyu and esteban ocon.
and notably, williams, who was on fucking fire this weekend as we already saw, finished q1 with alex albon in second (ahead of oscar) and franco colapinto in 8th. pierre gasly had somehow managed to also get into 4th. and nico hulkenberg was in 7th with ollie bearman in 13th. i told you the mid field battle was heating the hell up. 
q2. everyone zoomed straight out of the gate. they didn't want to get lando norris’d. but, speaking of that, if lando managed to get no points in the race and charles managed to win, charles would overtake lando in the drivers championship. mark webber himself told this to charles, who was absolutely baffled. 
in any case, charles was kinda suffering right now and that was because he was not getting slipstream from carlos to make his lap faster. meanwhile, carlos seemed to be actively trying to give charles the slipstream because he came on radio to say “he keeps missing the tow” 
and amazingly, franco colapinto was 4 tenths AHEAD of alex albon. alex albon who had not been unqualified by his teammate once since the start of 2023. ex red bull driver alex albon. that alex albon. 
max topped the times in q2, followed immediately by charles. insanely, fernando alonso managed to drag the aston martin to fifth. and franco was right behind him in 6th. by comparison alex albon was in 10th. 
and from q2 we lost ollie bearman, yuki tsunoda (who has never qualified lower than 8th in baku), pierre gasly, nico hulkenberg and lance stroll. so yes, ollie bearman managed to outqualify nico hulkenberg. this is ollies second ever f1 race. 
steaming on forward to q3. 
we had, for review, in q3 the following: 
both ferraris, both red bulls, both mercedes, both WILLIAMS (has not happened since vegas 2023), plus fernando alonso and oscar piastri. 
right out the gate it was wild. 
“red bull! theyve re found their mojo! or have they!” karun said. red bull were in 5th and 6th and not entirely sucking for the moment. 
everyone did one flyer and then came out at the end for a second flyer. 
here were the standings: 
charles, carlos, oscar, george, checo, max, lewis, alex, franco, fernando
and everyone was making it to the line and all was going smooth until-
wait a second what is that
could it be! alex albon! with the air box fan still on his car! surely not!!!
oh but it was! and harry and karun were like oh wow so unfortunate for williams tisk tisk
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meanwhile ted jumped on the radio to Loudly announce to everyone that this was insane and if i have time here i will put the rant he ranted cause it was Fantastic.
and what do you know i have time
so we had 3 minutes left qualifying and everyone was pulling out of the pits for their last flyer when oscar hopped on the radio to say
"the williams still has the air box fan in"
"oh what an error! disaster for williams!" karun and harry said. they speculated if the marshalls could get it or if the session needed to be red flagged. but alex threw the fan off the car.
and then they asked "ted have you ever seen that before?" and ted did not hold back:
"ITS A MASSIVE YELLOW FAN HOW COULD YOU MISS IT???!!! HOW COULD THE MECHANICS MISS IT???? I CANT BELIVE THEY WOULD MAKE SUCH A MISTAKE DOWN AT WILLIAMS! SUCH AN EXPERIENCED BUNCH OF GUYS AND GIRLS! WHAT IS GOING ON AT WILLIAMS OPERATIONALLY? HOW COULD YOU SEND A CAR OUT LIKE THAT?"
alex, obviously, got fined for an unsafe release 5k euros. he also had to throw the fan off to the side and got slightly covered in dry ice. he did not get to the a second flying lap. 
franco did tho!
and here were out qualifying results: 
p1: charles p2: oscar p3: carlos p4: checo p5: george p6: max p7: lewis p8: fernando p9: franco p10: alex  p11: ollie p12: yuki p13: pierre p14: nico p15: lance p16: daniel  p17: lando p18: valtteri p19: zhou p20: esteban 
oh ho ho but we werent done yet. because pierre gasly got disqualified from qualifying. for failing fuel flow regulations. and lewis was going to have to start from the pit lane for changing his power unit. 
everyone, and by everyone i mean oscar max and checo, pretty much said that charles was going to get pole no matter what, they knew this coming in and the best they were trying for was second
onto the race. 
notably, this is considered a checo track. this was one of the three races that max did not win last year. because checo won it. its a track that he does well on, evidenced by the fact that he qualified above max in qualifying. so people were expecting big things from him.
and so, we head into lap 1.
charles managed to hang onto the lead. checo passed carlos straight out of the gate for third and max managed to pass george to take fifth. lando had managed to get ahead of nico and up into 13th. notably, franco held onto 8th and ollie was able to hold onto tenth. 
someone who was not doing well was lance stroll, who came on the radio saying that he had a puncture. this was from contact with yuki. lance had to pit for fresh tires and was pretty immediately thrown to the back of the grid. 
by lap 2 lando had managed to get past daniel and was in 12th, he was trying to get past yuki next, which he managed by lap 3. yuki also lost a  spot to nico. 
also slaying in the mclaren was oscar, who took fastest lap. then charles took fastest lap.
and lewis hamilton, who had started from the pit lane, was up to 16th. already. somehow. though he was displeased with the tires, sayig that “this tire is pretty bad” over the radio. 
yuki meanwhile was clearly having a problem because he had started going very very slowly. thought the pit wall said that he had no problems. this would later turn out to be false but we will indulge them for the time being. 
franco was STILL ahead of alex albon on lap 6. STILL. 
lando on lap 8 managed to push his way into points positions, overtaking ollie bearman for 10th. though this was where things were about to slow down for him because in front of him were alex, franco and fernando, who were all very close together and would be hard to get past. 
george was back in bad luck hell as a plastic bag entered his airbox. will he ever catch a break. 
on lap 11 nico hulkenberg finally caught up with ollie bearman and passed him for 11th. 
and max’s car was not working. to potentially no one’s surprise. “i have zero bite in the car” he said. and this was probably true because checo was a whole 6.5 seconds ahead of him. insane gap. 
several pit stops later that i will not detail out because we simply do not have the time, alex albon ended up in 4th and lando ended up in fifth. and oscar was about to get undercut by checo. 
“mojo seems to be back for checo perez” harry said, correctly. 
mojo was back for him indeed. and now he was right behind lando. 
and if you will recall, according to mclaren themselves, priority at mclaren is the team first, then oscar, then lando. but oscar was ahead of lando. so what did mclaren do? 
they asked lando do hold up perez, but not compromise his own race. 
remever a long time ago when i said mclaren wouldn't have any internal drama this season? man how i was wrong.
lando managed to hold up perez for around a lap or two before he got past. this was crucial because this was during when oscar was in the pits. 
thanks to lando and the power of the papaya rules teamwork, oscar ended up coming out in 4th, only .706s ahead of checo. 
mclaren are working together everyone! mclaren are working together!
meanwhile, turns out that yuki did indeed have problems because he retired on lap 17 with a hole in his sidepod from the contact with lance on lap 1. this was now two races in a row where he had had to retire for reasons out of his control. 
several more people pitted. and eventually charles was back out in front, oscar was in p2. until he wasn't. no, he didn't dnf. he overtook charles! he was in p1! he popped out of nowhere! nowhere being 2 car lengths back and just flooring it to spring around charles like a little silly slinky! karun called it a “good, fair and robust defense,” which sounds like its descibing notes in wine. but this was not wine. this was the baku gp. and we were only half done. 
ollie bearman was defending against lewis hamilton, holding on tightly to 14th place. 
charles was still behind oscar and he could not get past, despite the fact that he was still very much in spitting distance. “they are pushing like crazy or they have more grip than us” he said. 
carlos got past both lando and alex albon and was up into 4th
this brought max up behind lando. max was on 11 lap old tires and lando was on 24 lap old tires. but lando still defended like hell and managed to hold onto sixth. max was 0.632 seconds behind lando on lap 25 when he said that “my brakes are not working.” this was hardly a surprise. max has hated the car since china.
also experiencing technical difficulties was sir lewis hamilton. he was stuck down in 14th and was first told to do “everything you can do to get the surface temp down” of the tires. he said “im trying” then several laps later on lap 29 he came on the radio to say “are you seeing how i have to drive this thing?” “yes,” bono, his engineer said. “quite effective though.” 
max was still half a second behind lando. mclaren faked a pit stop call over the radio to get max to pit. he did not. 
but, george russell did manage to pass him. which was “not good for max’s world champion aspirations.”
this was also when ted very bafflingly said that “if i had a sofa in the pit lane i would be jumping up and down on it” im not sure what that was in response to. 
meanwhile, ollie was still holding off sir lewis hamilton. and charles was trying to get oscar to pit again by lying over the radio. it was not working. 
lando did a pit stop finally and came out a whole 15 second behind max. he was hoping to catch max by the end of the race. but it might be tight. lets go last lap lando. 
“lando, imagine andrea on your shoulder saying ‘zero wheel spin’ in every exit,” lando’s race engineer said. if you're confused, everyone else was too. 
10 laps to go and here were the order of affairs:
oscar
+.449s charles +1.865s checo +2.989s carlos +16.530s george  +1.909s max +11.535s lando +9.715s fernando +2.589s alex +2.451s nico +4.667s franco +1.590s lewis +1.261s ollie +1.791s pierre +9.205s daniel +23.919s esteban  +.789s lance +3.862s valtteri +3.631s guanyu 
lando was determined. he took fastest lap on lap 43 and was 8.8s behind max
at this point, the leaders were starting to lap the cars in the back. “the back markers are starting to come up,” checo’s engineer said to him. “its going to get messy.”
“hold onto your hats and if you don't have one go get one and hold onto it” harry said. harry would turn out to be correct. 
we had the top 3 all running very close to eachother, that was oscar, charles and checo and “welcome to the party carlos sainz!” who was now 1.2 seconds behind checo in the four way battle for the lead.
definitely not leading was lance stroll, who retired on lap 47 with a brake problem. 
oscar managed to pull ahead of charles by 1.5 seconds, finally knocking him out of DRS range. so now it was a three way battle for second. and charles had “no rear tires. no rear tires at all.” 
and, just like i said he would, lando managed to pass max on lap 49. he was closing the gap slowly in the championship. 
“verstappen’s day goes from bad to worse,” harry said. because lando still had fastest lap, so he would score 3 more points than max. which is important if lando wants to beat max in the championship (though i think hes still like 60 points behind)
meanwhile! franco managed to pass nico hulkenberg for 10th! he was in the points!!!! at his second race!!! 
but this was short lived because there was a crash! a big smackeroo! between carlos and checo!! checo was mad, carlos didn't know what happened. 
what happened was that carlos was trying to pass checo but checo did not move over. it was deemed an equal fault accident. both of them were utterly confused at what happened and apparently spent 20 minutes in the medical center being utterly lost and aparently saying that sometimes this sport sucks. and! contrary to what several people said! checo did not bang on carlos’s helmet after the crash. 
the crash actually caused chef's dad to have a heart attack. he is stable now.
and well. this clip of george from the post qualifying interviews definitely didnt age well:
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but! since we were a matter of a few laps from the end, this meant that the rest of the race was finished under a virtual safety car. 
which meant 
OSCAR PIASTRI WINS THE AZERBAIJAN GP
and george inherited p3! 
and on his own merit too! no safety cars, no team orders, no weird shit! 
“yes!” he whispered over the radio. 
he almost fell getting out of the car, then gave us all the “one moment” hand gesture before properly celebrating. 
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he also got driver of the day! 
(this was marginally better than george russell, who said over the radio “i cant get any rubber (to pick up on his tires) all im getting is leaves”)
gunther steiner also hosted the post race interviews. which was interesting. 
george said that the most difficult part of the race was “driving full gas into a wall of carbon fiber on the penultimate lap…the vsc should have come out sooner” 
charles bashed ferrari because they didn't do any high fuel runs in practice. 
oscar was entirely pleased. “i managed to overtake and hold onto it for the next 35 laps..one of the better races of my career.” and honestly, oscar winning a race straight after mclaren basically announcing that he was their number 2 driver is nothing short of hilarious.
and! mclaren was now leading the constructors championship by 20 points! for the first time in ten years!!!!
the top three had a moment outside of the car that was filled with baffled: 
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and oscar's engineer tom got to stand on the podium with him. he usually takes a selfie with oscar after each race he podiums at, but he was too excited to so george took this picture for them
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(george also aparently demomished oscar in a game of uno on the plane, immediately humbling him)
george also shielded himself from the champagne on the podium
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the cooldown room reacted to the crash in a very straight forward manner:
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and very quickly cause its midnight and the singapore gp starts in 8 hours, the post race, speed ran: 
-mark webber told off laura winter for thinking that oscar didn't have good tire management
-alex albon was “super happy, that's a lot of points for us” (williams finished in 7th and 8th). he cut his own interview short when ollie bearman arrived, saying “I can go, im happy to go” and then waving comically. 
-williams was so pleased with this result they blasted everyone with champagne. and they overtook alpine in the constructors championship! this was also their best race finish all season
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-(and a quick note, if youre going to really blame logan for being that shit of a driver here, please remember that the car he was driving was several rounds of upgrades behind alex's pretty much the entire time he was driving it)
-ollie became the first driver to ever score points in his first two races for two different constructors because the double dnf pushed him up to 10th place. he said that there was not much difference between the haas and the ferrari, the ferrari was just red
-franco continued to charm everyone and flirt with the reporters. 
-they interviewed george and lewis and the camera had to be adjusted for george's height. it was comical and resulted in my favorite edit so far of the season (sound on)
-lando looked pleased and happy for once. he said about holding off checo that “i didn't hold him up i just had to cool my tires a little.” he was delighted to be leading the constructors for the first time in ten years and he defended alex albon saying “i struggled to get past alex for a while, which is common, alex doesnt make mistakes.” he also ratted on max for going to fast during the VSC and said “i didn't complain, facts were stated.” and to sum it all up he said that “im executing things well, i’m very quick…i’m not going to be the happiest guy, but i am never the happiest guy….car is performing well everywhere…some red cars behind us seem to be our biggest competitors right now” 
-by comparison george insulted all of pirelli. the tire people. “pretty infuriating that it (the pace) changes this so much….its black magic, people who make the tires don't understand the tires…..for 20 laps we had a car not worthy of points and for 20 laps we had a car fighting for victory and the only difference is the tires.” 
-lewis was notably upset after the race and walked through the paddock with his helmet on, not wanting to talk to anyone. but he did talk to franco and ollie and congratulate them on a job well done defending against him and racing against him. franco even fangirled over this on his instagram. 
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-charles was clearly upset with ferrari. he was so upset he posted a thirst trap.
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-and oscar. oscar was very happy this afternoon. and his mom was there! she doesnt usually come cause it scares her, but nicole was there today! 
-mclaren celebrated with a hell of a lot of champagne. both oscar’s wina and lando’s insane recovery, and the fact that they were leading the championship. red bull have been dethroned, at least for now. 
-there was so much champagne that lando took off his socks to spray it. all seems well at mclaren. 
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-at least one thing is for sure, oscar had a better time here this weekend than last year when he got food poisoning and only ate four pieces of toast
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and with that. we head into singapore. quite literally as it is starting in a few hours. again, i apologixe about this post. its a little sad, but the next one will be better. pinkly promise. 
see you all soon!!!
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jirsungs · 15 days ago
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first halloween... gone wrong? | dms drabble #4
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word count: 1.6k words
synopsis: halloween was never your favorite. you would choose christmas over it in a heartbeat, but with your dorky drummer boyfriend who absolutely loves it never leaving your side, you might just tolerate the spooky holiday. (set in the drum me, stupid universe but can be read as a standalone!)
warnings: a knife is mentioned, the dms!couple is flirty and GROSS, but most of this is just fluff.
a/n: HIIII 😭 jirsungs nation, rise! it's been 2 weeks since any story related post has been uploaded, and i just want to deeply apologize for not being here ): i missed writing and putting my delusions down in a google doc. but i hope you guys enjoy this short drum me stupid drabble and missed these cutie patooties as much as i did ☹️ as always, feedback is ALWAYS loved and appreciated! happy reading <3
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You were never fond of Halloween. Sure, you loved being able to go all out in costumes and go to Halloween parties with your friends, but you knew immediately that once those plans were over, you were left in your own accompaniment once again.
Some people would be joyful with spending the rest of their nights after parties and such alone, but you? You were used to the party scene and loved it when it never ended. Lucky for you, your dorky boyfriend of a few months, Park Jisung, always kept the party going.
“Hey, have you guys seen Ji?” You asked Ningning and her boyfriend, Jeno, after finally spotting them dancing together on the dance floor. Your voice was louder than usual due to Michael Jackson's Thriller bumping from the party speakers.
“No, we thought he was with you." Ning looks over to Jeno. “I thought he came with you and the guys.”
You both wait for Jeno's reply, but he just shrugs. “He was supposed to, but he was the last one to get ready. If anyone knows where he is, that's Chenle.”
You click your tongue. “I figured. I'm going to keep looking for him. Thanks, guys!”
Ning’s shout of “Good luck!” was the last thing you heard before you committed to walking through the crowd of musty bodies. You were surprised at how many people went all out on their Halloween costumes this year. Your surprise wasn't a bad thing though; if anything, you loved it.
You almost second-guessed your choice of costume. With you and Ning being the only girls in the group, you felt that it was right if the both of you matched. The angel costumes were cute; you were wearing a black tight dress while she wore white, but taking a look at the decided costumes this year, you began to feel basic.
Once you're out of the crowd, you spot Haechan, Mark, and Yeonjun in the corner. You take notice of Yeonjun trying his best to impress some girl while the two boys next to him silently judge, taking occasional sips out of their red solo cups. 
Haechan, in his Pennywise makeup and attire, sees you walking towards them, tilting his head at your costume. “What are you supposed to be? A demonic angel?”
Mark snickers at his friend's comment, which you pout at. “No. I'm just an angel who happens to wear black. And says you, Pennywise, isn't your costume like... super basic?”
Haechan gasps, his hand on his chest for the dramatic effect. Mark rolls his eyes and answers your question instead.
“Every year, the Rockway guys do a group costume. This year, we somehow decided on iconic horror movie killers.” 
“Ahhh… So, that explains your Leatherface mask.”
With a nod of his head, Mark replies with a “Yup.”
You glance back at the party, and the sudden remembrance of why you came up to them in the first place hits you. “Oh! By the way, have you guys seen Jisung? I literally can't find him anywhere.”
Your body physically sulks at their answers, telling you they haven't seen him in a while. With your hope slowly decreasing and the urge to ditch the party increasing, you decide to call him one last time. If he doesn’t answer, you’ll cut the party short and head home, unfortunately finding the comfort of your bed more enjoyable than being here. You loved the company of your friends, but it bummed you out that you haven’t seen your boyfriend all night after him telling you that he’ll be here.
After bidding your goodbyes to the group and giving Jeno the responsibility to get Ning home safely, you make your way to your car. It's late October with the breeze finally coming through, resulting in you rubbing your arms in hopes for warmth. As you walk, your ears pick up on the sounds of your heels clicking against the sidewalk cement until they pick up another pair of footsteps near you. At first, you don’t sweat it, already aware of the scattered groups outside of the frat. 
But as you walk more down towards your car, the shuffling footsteps don’t leave you. Okay, you’ve had enough of this. Your slight irritation was slowly increasing due to this sudden interruption of your plans to waste the rest of your night away by changing out of this angel get-up and watching comfort films.
The only person you craved to see you in this costume was nowhere to be found, anyway. Finally turning around, you face the person but stay near your car for safety reasons.
“Who are you, and why do you keep following me?” You ask.
You didn’t mean to have your words come out sharply, but when you found out your culprit to be someone in a Ghostface costume, it only made you roll your eyes.
“I don’t mean to be rude, but if you’re just here to mess with me, is it okay if you can choose someone else? I really don’t have the energy for this.”
A beat passes and still no response from the person. It was almost as if their feet were stuck in the cement; you were starting to feel chills at the creepy mask staring back at you. But then, your brain starts to put the pieces together.
The replay of what Mark told you earlier back at the party plays in your head. “Every year, the Rockway guys do a group costume. This year, we somehow decided on iconic horror movie killers.” Would it be a coincidence that Jisung, who you haven’t seen all night, just happens to be right in front of you?
Your face softens at the thought of the mysterious Ghostface being your boyfriend. “Ji, baby, if that’s you, I’m going to smack you. Where have you been all night? I called you three times.” 
Still no answer, but now they were slowly walking towards you, revealing what they were holding behind them to be a knife. From where you’re standing, you couldn’t tell if it’s real or a fake replica, but that doesn’t stop your grip on the driver seat handle tightening, ready to pull on it and get the hell out of here. 
But you try one last time. “Okay, quit it. This isn't funny.”
By this point, the wondering thoughts of whether this was Jisung or not cloud your mind. You’re now close to each other, and the Ghostface still hasn’t said anything. 
You know what? Fuck it! You’re not dying today! 
You tug the car door open, ready to rush inside, but the masked John Doe shuts the door before you can. Their gloved hand doesn’t budge on the door, making their body lean against it and impossible for you to get inside.
The fact that they haven’t shoved the knife into your body by now has you suspicious and less frightened, but more agitated. Finally, they remove the mask from their face, revealing— 
“Hi, pretty angel.” 
Your stupid, cheekily smiling boyfriend. 
He has no time to lean in and give you an apologetic kiss on the lips before you smack him on the chest and punch his arm. “You motherfucker!”
“Ow! What the hell was that for?” 
Your eyes squint at him asking you that, resulting in another punch to his arm. “Don’t ‘what the hell was that for’ me! You scared the shit out of me!”
You’re about to smack his chest again, but Jisung’s reflex hits faster than yours. Not giving you another opportunity to hit him, he’s quick to take hold of both of your wrists, which you immediately try to get out of. You hate (love) how strong he’s been getting. With his constant drumming and going to the gym with the guys on the side, it became more and more difficult for you to get out of his grip. 
With your hands unable to move, he takes the chance and plants quick kisses all over your face. Your face flusters quickly with you trying to move away from his lips. He knows he got you when your tugging to get out of his hands stops and you start giggling.
“Ji, stop it!” Your giggles only increase when his kisses do, leading him to drop your hands and place his on your waist instead. 
“I missed you. I’m sorry I didn’t answer; I wanted to keep up the bit of scaring you.” He says after giving you a big cheek kiss and pulling you closer to his chest.
You can’t stop the giddy smile forming on your face. “It’s okay. Just never scare me like that again or I will—” you point your pointy finger on his chest, almost in warning, creating some space between you two, “cut your balls off.” 
But he pays no mind to your threat, smiling down at you like a loser in love. “Yes, ma’am. Never again.”
You encircle your arms around his waist, looking up at him doe-eyed. “Now, can we please go home and watch comfort movies?” 
“Can I first admire how fuckin’ gorgeous you look in this and then go home?”
Oh. You forgot you had this costume on.
Your cheeks heat up at his words. “Language, Park. You could’ve admired this all you wanted earlier if you didn’t leave me alone the whole night.”
He pouts, “Will I at least see this costume some other time, baby?”
"Hmm.” You pretend to think. “I guess, you just have to wait and see.”
“Why wait when I can see it on you tomorrow?” There's a glint in his eyes, and you know it can only mean trouble.
“Easy, drummer boy.”
Little did he know that his almost insulting prank on you sparked an idea in your head. But it’s best to save that for next year, right? 
You guess, with Park Jisung by your side, you wouldn’t mind waiting another year to see what other Halloween pranks he has in store for you.
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deancasbigbang · 1 month ago
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Title: Paging Doctor Novak
Author: Salamitsunami1
Artist: WitchyWorm
Rating: Explicit
Pairings: Dean/Cas, past Dean/Lisa, past Dean/Rhonda
Length: 40000
Warnings: Graphic and accurate depictions of medicine, medical emergencies, and medical procedures. Past unfaithful Dean. Minor character death
Tags: Rom-com, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Happy Ending, Hospital AU, Sexual Tension, Doctor Sexy M.D., Getting Together
Posting Date: October 31, 2024
Summary: Dean Winchester is many things — a nurse, an in-charge on the medical-surgical floor, and a big fan of the ladies. What he’s not is a commitment kind of guy, and he’s definitely not a night duty kind of guy. Things change when a hook-up-gone-wrong gets him lumped on night duty for an entire month, and to make matters worse, he’s been lumped on night duty with a brand new intern. As with all interns, Doctor Castiel Novak is cocky at best and dangerous at worst, but for some reason, and maybe it’s just the way his ass looks in those teal scrubs, Dean’s got a soft spot for the guy. Or a really hard one. Either way, it’s not long before Dean’s new roster is the least of his concerns; he wants that dorky doctor guy, and fuck, he wants him for real.
Excerpt: Being in charge, Dean’s job is simple — keep on top of any patients coming up from the ER or down from the OR, page the doctor when there’s a problem, and call the doctor when there’s an emergency. That’s how he ended up in Frank Devereaux’s room with the phone to his ear, and because the on-call doctor is almost always an intern this late at night, he’s willing to bet that whoever picks up isn’t gonna know Frank’s ass from his esophagus. “Hello?” “Hello?” Dean questions. “Is this the on-call doc or a Wendy’s?”  “This is Doctor Novak.” “Right. Well, this is Dean from med-surg. I’m calling about Frank Devereaux in bed two. He had a lap-chole yesterday, got back to the ward about six hours ago. His pain’s currently a nine out of ten, he’s just vomited up a whole lot of bile, and I’ve got a real bad feeling.” “Okay,” the intern says, like a question. “Would you like a consult?” Dean sighs wearily. “That’s why I called.” “Of course,” the intern says. “I’m on my way.” The phone call hasn’t exactly filled Dean with confidence, and it only gets worse when the intern stumbles onto the ward — his hair is all over the place, his stethoscope is hanging unevenly around his neck, he’s wearing these teal scrubs that are about a whole size too small and therefore clinging to every inch of him, and he’s wearing them with a pair of fucking Converse high-tops, of all things. All interns are cocky, that’s a given, but the cockiest of all is the surgical intern. Each and every year, guaranteed.  “Hello,” he says. “I’m looking for Dean.” Dean glances down at his own name tag. Unfortunately, it’s still right where he pinned it to his scrub top, so it seems the new intern might not even be able to read. In the interest of being nice, he forces a smile. “You found him.” “Oh. Hello, Dean,” the intern says. “I believe we spoke on the phone.” Dean only nods, waiting for the intern to introduce himself, but he does no such thing. No, this guy just stands there, he runs his fingers through his bedraggled hair, and so now there’s a smear of ink on his forehead where it’s rubbed against whatever’s written on his hand. Pointedly, Dean says, “And what did you say your name was again?” “I’m Doctor Novak.” Dean looks Doctor Novak up, down, then back up again. Taking him apart. He’s got bags under his eyes and cracks in his lips. Doctor or not, this guy’s a fucking mess.  “Well, doc,” Dean says, probably against his better judgment. “Frank’s this way.”
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chaos-in-deepspace · 5 months ago
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L&DS Zayne: Sugar Zaddy | 18+ Headcanons
So I didn't write this. You heard me right, this was not written by me. Instead my discord kitten, my lil meow meow, wrote it. Well...kinda. We were discussing something that happened earlier and she was like "Consider a Sugar Daddy though..." And then went off on Discord. She's too shy to actually post this herself, so she gave me permission to. The green text is my contributions on discord that she included in the doc. Small note: This is an 18+ post, however the first part is mainly SFW (except for one bullet in particular that warns with NSFW beforehand). The more raunchy ones are under the "NSFW" part. So again, this is 18+ but the first part isn't as bad.
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/ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+. /ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ Warnings: Dom/Sub Dynamics, Spanking, Begging, Possessive Behavior (Hot), Zaddy /ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ Pairings: Zayne x Reader
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Blog Information | Masterlist
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Zayne
Daddy Zayne , to whom if you ask him to cut your food for you because you feel like having a butler or doing something so you won't get your hands or nails messy, would do it immediately - He would peel and cut an apple for you, feed you an orange, just doing everything for you if you ask.
Zaddy Zayne who, sometimes when you beg enough or have been behaving well enough, would let you show him off - But he might tease you while doing so.
Zaddy who would feel bad if he picked out the wrong gift for you, because he's like, "Nah, my Jimmy Neutron brain really thought this was a good idea?"
Zaddy who grips your thighs when sitting together, even at restaurants.
Zaddy , as usual, Zayne doesn't like risk like public.
Clothing wise, would he let you dress him up to match with you? We’re not talking about him dressing us up because DUH, IT'S Zaddy . It depends on what you’d be wearing to be honest. If it’s something too flashy, then no, but if it’s something classy, he would definitely match with you. Not to mention that means when you’re out in public, if for some ungodly reason you leave his side and someone tries flirting with you, he just walks up next and you can just TELL y’all are together with your outfits.
It depends on what you’d be wearing tbh. If it’s something too flashy then no, but if it’s something classy? He would definitely match with you. Not to mention that means when you’re out in public, if for some ungodly reason you leave his side and someone tries flirting with you, he just walks up next and you can just TELL y’all are together with your outfits
Zaddy who, when someone mocks you, just pulls you closer subtly showing off. If you seem upset, he buys you double the things he usually buys for you.
Zaddy who uses his busy schedule against you and in your favor. Sure, he may take off some activities to spend time with you, pampering you, but he also uses it against you when you're most needy, suddenly taking over Dr. Grayson's next surgery just because he is a "kind soul." This man likes and loves hearing you beg, and it gets worse if you try to backfire it on him. Trying to make him jealous or sending him a naughty picture will just make him take even longer, but not enough to make you cry of frustration or simply just get turned off, just the right amount because after all, he knows you like the back of his hand and knows how to keep his pretty princess behaved and happy.
Zaddy who would give you another copy of his credit card.
You wanna live in another place? Sure, as long as it's not too far from him
Moving into the apartment under his.
NSFW: You wanna travel? Gotta squirt five times to make him consider it and make up for lost time…time which will also be taken back when you come back.
Zaddy who buys you a present wherever he goes out, going out of his way to buy something for you after surgery before going back to the airport.
Zayne who dislikes you talking back.
Zaddy who cooks for you.
Zaddy who (this is more based on me, I dunno you) pampers you triple when you bake for him.
Zaddy who, if you practice any kind of sport, isn't the kind of pervert to just watch to get off, but maybe occasionally, depending on the mood, if you're doing yoga in such a position, will not need to bend you down since you already do it for him.
Zaddy who occasionally starts the act if you say you're not in the mood, will give you tons of kisses just so you don't feel bad.
Zaddy who loves when, during shopping sprees, you make a quick stop by the pastry shop for a sugary treat or ice cream.
Zaddy who is the silent jealous type but is a gentleman and would not take it out on you.
Zaddy who thinks it's just established how your relationship with him works and if you ever doubt it, he will make you learn it word by word.
And if you say, "Heck nah, get away," he will understand your wish and get away.
Zaddy who has nurses and girls after him, and he gives them the cold treatment.
Zaddy who, depending on his mood, sticks to you, gives you the side eye if it's a dumb jealousy, makes you suck it up or indirectly humiliates the other person.
Now, would Zaddy brag about you? Like comparing you with others (you on top, of course, you're his pretty princess). He knows you're the best so he doesn't need to brag or compare. He may compare to make you feel better if you're sad though. It's literally the phrase, "if you need to talk about power then you don't have it." I think dating Zayne would be 90% of your relationship, married life comes later, after all, he's just like your husband the day he started pampering you.
Zayne who, when he has a crush on you, gives you mixed gifts, some little cheap things and some very expensive, to see your reactions and study your reactions to win your heart.
Zaddy wouldn't let his money do all the work though; this man will rizz you up HARD.
Zaddy who does his skincare with you 💋.
Zaddy who, if you ask him to or if you're tired, will do your skincare for you.
Zaddy who cuddles you the first night even if he did or didn't rail you before sleep.
Zaddy who, if you're a gamer ass, as long as you keep him happy, will buy you the best PC or consoles.
Zaddy who isn't interested in video games but if it's a cozy one and you ask him to play, he will and will surprise you with little things in the game.
NSFW
Sugar daddy Zayne who gives you sweet kisses when you cry while he's pounding you ❤️ - Telling you how good you are for being able to take him. Telling you how it’s fine if you can’t walk tomorrow, he’ll carry you wherever you need to go.
Zaddy with both cock warming kink and breeding kink.
Zaddy who wants to beg for you to try and come back and tried just one time against his ego to get you back with gifts, and if it works, he's going to hold himself back until you finally have sex with him starting it.
Zaddy who, if you catch him not in the mood, will keep it in mind later to give you what you need and make up for it.
Zaddy who, duh, loves edging you; it's Zayne .
Zaddy who, if he's desperate, would have masturbating sessions with you over the phone.
Zaddy who has a secret folder on his phone for your intimate photos.
Zaddy who, of course, loves seeing you in lingerie.
Zaddy , the panty stealer, when work hits too hard.
Zaddy , the mother who nudges you to go out by going shopping if you've been in too long and fucks you to keep you inside if you've been out too much.
Zaddy who would tie your hands and have you sit on his face while he eats you out *
This guy has all the cake he ever needs so he doesn't need yours for anything other than spanking..
Zaddy who, if you spanked his butt like in the bongo headcanons, would, depending on his mood, have you lay down on your lap and slap your ass or would just give you the side eye and retrieve the gift he was going to give you, making you beg for it. And if you're masochistic, make you beg (optional, depends on horniness).
Zaddy who seems to be the most horny one but in reality is not. Zaddy , that has you start reaching for his cock.
Zaddy who reeducates your bad habits by edging you or making you cum twice the amount you messed up.
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So there it is! All written out and lovely! Thanks again to my dear friend who just went feral over this idea. She gave me permission to let y'all know who she is so it's @nati-cutie-patootie she did such a good job, ya? I think she did.
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bruhnze · 4 months ago
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Remember when i dressed up as a cop - Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle
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Summary: kinda just plotless smut.. well a bit of plot, Ona thinks Lucy's new title is hot af.
Warnings: smut, roleplay, explicit language, minors DNI
Wordcount: 3k
Disclaimer: i don't know anything about doctors, so if this is very inaccurate i'm sorry xx.
Disclaimer 2: this is kinda cringe, atleast it was to write it so it better be enjoyed by atleast one of you!!!
Based on this request , hope it was a bit like you expected.
Remember when i dressed up as a cop.
It was just after the summer, after the busy start of the club seasons, Lucy and Ona had finally found a few days in which they could be together.
Ona had traveled to London and toured Lucy's house the night before but they had been too tired for anything else.
They had fallen asleep completely entangled, but when Ona woke up the bed was empty and she heard Lucy messing around in the kitchen.
Ona wanted to grab a large shirt to wear from Lucy's closet, when she was rummaging around looking for one that she always liked, she saw a framed object in the walk-in closet.
[Oh my god] Ona thought to herself when she saw what it was, the honorable doctorate that Lucy had received [fuck, she hadn't thought about it anymore after the day it had happened, she hadn't been able to go with Lucy that day, so appart from a Insta comment and some private texts there hadn't been much about it]
She chose a different shirt, a big plain white t-shirt and walked to the kitchen.
''Luccee?'' Ona asked in a sweet voice.
"Good morning baby, did you sleep well?" Lucy said as she stood in her boxers and sports bra making breakfast and putting it down on a tray.
''mhmm'' Ona said, looking at Lucy with a mischievous face.
''what? sorry I wasn't in bed, but I actually wanted to surprise you with breakfast in bed.'' Lucy turned around and looked apologetically at her girlfriend.
"Maybe I have a nice way for you to make it up," she said with a cheeky smile.
Only now did the Englishwoman realize what kind of mood Ona had woken up in, she herself had actually been ready to go last night, but she understanded that Ona had been tired from travelling so they had kept it at cuddling.
Lucy grinned and walked towards her, she put her hands under Ona's shirt and pulled her in for a kiss.
After a few seconds of kissing Ona pulled away "no wait''.
Lucy looked surprised ''oh, i thought you wanted''
''Oh yes, i do but I have an idea" Ona iinterupted her with blush creeping up her face ''if your up for it''.
''Im listening'' Lucy grinned.
''well'' ''uhm''
''you can say it babe, i wont laugh'' Lucy said as she looked at Ona encouragingly.
''remember when i dressed up as a cop?'' Ona started.
Lucy's smile and big eyes made Ona laugh ''well we're not going to do exactly that''
The taller woman pouted ''tease'' her eyes grew big again ''wait, you want me to be the cop?''.
Ona chuckled ''well no, the thing is.... you gained a new title recently that inspired me''.
Lucy couldn't immediately understand what One was after.
''I haven't been feeling so good lately'' Ona tried.
Lucy was still looking at her questioning, she felt stupid that she didn't get what Ona meant.
''might need some physical examination doc'' the Catalan wiggled her eyebrows.
''the doctorate?'' Lucy chuckled ''you know it's not like real doctor right?''.
''sshhh'' the shorter woman put her finger on Lucy's lips ''are you up for it or no?''.
''well most certainly, i have to make sure you are allright, that is my professional duty'' the Englishwoman said, immediately stepping into the role, afraid Ona would change her mind.
"Okay, I had an operation yesterday, as a doctor you are going to see how I am doing now, i will see you in a sec." Ona leaned to Lucy's ear ''and docs have clothes on by the way''.
Lucy grinned ''wow, you really thought about it'' ''wait what was the operation''.
Ona thought about it ''uhm i dont know, something minor''.
Lucy laughed ''didn't think it through that thoroughly after all''.
The smaller woman gave Lucy a stern look before heading towards the bedroom.
..
At the bed, Ona took off her panties and laid down in bed wearing only the large T-shirt.
It took a while for Lucy to come to the bed, when she did Ona looked at what she had put on.
She stood next to her in nice trousers and a white shirt with a large white blouse over it, she had a lanyard around her neck with a card with 'Lucy Bronze' on it, she also had a laptop and a measuring tape.
But the thing Ona liked most were the glasses sitting on Lucy´s face.
Lucy cleared her throat ''hello, miss. Batlle, im doctor Bronze, I did the operation and I am happy to say that it all went very well."
"oh that's good news doctor, you can call me Ona by the way"
''okay Ona, how did you sleep?''
''pretty good actually, the other patiënt in the room wasn't to much of a bother''.
''im glad'' Lucy said as she pretended to type something in her laptop ''mkay, we need to do some postoperative tests, do you think you're ready for that?''
''i'm so ready'' Ona teased with a smirk.
''Good, first some questions, on a scale of 1-10, how much pain are you experiencing right now?''
''uhm 0''
''did the nurse take you of the IV this morning or at night?''
''this morning, a second ago actually''
''understandable, don't forget to keep up with your painkillers now, you take them preventivally for the coming week, if your in pain you took it to late, don't lag behind the facts''
''yes doctor i will''
''good, have you peed yet?''
Ona chuckled ''yeah why?''
"Well, it's a mandatory question after the operation you have had, we need to know whether you experience any problems urinating after the operation."
''okay, uhm no, everything feels pretty okay down under''.
''good, we'll get to that later too''. ''okay, that were my questions, now some inspection, auscultation, percussion and palpation'' Lucy showed off her medical knowledge gained from her own injuries.
''Okay doc, i dont know what that is but i trust you'' Ona was secretly impressed but Lucy took the role a bit too serious for her liking, it was supposed to be a sexy roleplay, not an acting job. She took the covers off of her ''what do you need me to do?''.
''uhm, i need your to turn your back to me please miss. Batlle, uh Ona i mean''.
Ona shuffled in the bed and sat with her back to Lucy.
''oh'' doctor Bronze said ''i don't know what kind of gown they gave you, but this one doesn't have an open back, i need some space for my stethoscope''.
''uhm, i dont know, i woke up in this, i can take it of if that helps''
''that would help Ona, if you don't mind''.
Ona quickly took of the shirt, and sat up on her knees with her feet tucked under her butt, trying to make her behind look good for Lucy.
She felt a hand on her back ''very good Ona, it looks very good''. Lucy pretended to listen to Ona's heart ''heart sounds good and clear, you have a strong heart, your vitals were very good during the operation too, do you work out?''
''yes, i am a football player actually''.
''aha i see, very good, you won't be out of it very long, you can play again in a few weeks''
Ona turned around smiling ''thank you doctor''.
Lucy swallowed hard seeing her girlfriends chest, it felt different in this role, she almost felt like she was the doctor forreal and not her girlfriend. She blushed and looked away ''uhm, if you can step out of the bed we'll do some streching to test your mobility''.
''okay, can i put that gown back on?''
Lucy looked surprised and a bit dissapointed ''uh, yes ofcourse Ona''.
Ona stood up and put the shirt back on.
The English woman pretended to type some more on the laptop for the time it took Ona. ''good, first you have to try to make yourself as tall as possible, arms all the way up, if you feel any pain please tell me''.
Ona stretched, her T-shirt barely covering anything as her arms rose.
''good, if you don't mind i'm going to feel your hips, to check whether the joints are commensurate to each other''.
''okay''
Lucy put her hands on Ona's hips below her shirt, just like she had done earlier in the kitchen, only this time she was not kissing Ona, she wished she was kissing her right now, put she had to stay in her role for a bit longer. ''good that's all good, now please try and touch your toes if you can''.
''mhm, i can''.
''Okay Ona, i'll step behind you, take a look at your hamstrings allright?''
''yup'' Ona muttered while bending down, she cheekily pulled her shirt along so that her ass was completely exposed.
Lucy couldn't keep the low moan from coming out of her throat [damn] she thought [fuck i've missed this ass].
Lucy gently let her hands travel over her girlfriends ass.
The Spaniard smirked to herself, feeling the older woman appreciate her body, she wiggled her butt a little, trying to get more of a reaction.
Lucy spoke in a low voice ''fuck Ona'' her thumbs now grazing the line where Ona's butt conected to her thighs.
The taller woman kneeled down and kissed Ona´s hamstrings softly, she littered kisses all the way up to her butt.
Ona had trouble standing so long in the position she was in so she set a step forward and leaned on the bed.
Lucy stood back up and let her hands travel under the shirt that was already hitched up anyways, and felt Ona´s back muscles. ''your muscles are in great condition''.
Now the English woman was at Ona's shoulders making her front press against the Spaniards behind.
Ona stiffend [fuck did she really feel that] she wiggled a bit more to confirm her thoughts.
Lucy chuckled at Ona discovering the strap she had put on earlier.
Ona couldn't believe how long this was taking and almost regretted suggesting this, she missed having sex with Lucy and it had been way too long for her liking. And feeling the thing Lucy was wearing didn't help with that.
After a bit more feeling Ona up Lucy spoke again ''please lay on your back for me'' she said in a serious tone.
The Catalan listened hastily and quickly turned over, and now laid on her back, legs still over the bed.
''How do your groins feel?''
Ona blushed, she was a bit embarrassed to open up her legs knowing she was dripping wet.
''Ona?''
''uhm yeah, they feel fine''
Lucy chuckled ''can i take a look to confirm?''
''yeah'' Ona parted her legs slightly, only to be 'helped' by doctor Bronze, pulling them further apart.
The taller woman groaned as she let her thumbs glissade along Ona's inner thighs all the way up to her groins.
''okay looks good but i think were dealing with an unusual case here''
''unusual?''
''yeah, your lower region looks to be very .. uhm .. wet''.
Ona blushed ''Luce'' she said in a whiny voice as she pushed the woman away.
Lucy smirked ''doctor Bronze please, and if your up for it i would like to study this closer, i really haven't seen anything like it before, does this happen more often?''.
The Catalan rolled her eyes but thought about an answer ''uhm, well, i have never had a hot doctor''.
''oh''
''yeah''
''would you prefer another doctor?''
''uhm, no.. i think you can help me best''.
''okay, well, i'll need to study it a bit closer''
Ona nodded eagerly, her core was begging to be touched.
Lucy didn't waste time, she went straight for Ona's centre, lapping at the wetness that wass collected there ''fuck Ona i missed your taste so much''.
The shorter woman moaned, she couldn't even make a joke about how Lucy was supposed to be a doctor, instead she went for ''fuck doc, i missed you too''.
The English woman's head was bobbing frantically between Ona's legs, she took off her glasses for better access and laid them on the bedside table all while continuing to eat her girlfriend out, she had thought about this about a million times when they'd been apart so she wasn't about to waste a second of it.
''fuck'' Ona muttered as she gripped at Lucy's hair ''im so-
Lucy hummed and continued at the same pace, wanting her to come.
With a few more seconds Ona reached her climax, she dropped her head back on the mattress ''fuck i've missed you''.
After Lucy had cleaned her up she craweled over Ona, coming up to kiss her ''i've missed you too''
They shared a kiss, Ona loved tasting herself on Lucy's tongue, she had really missed this.
''em fas correr millor'' (you make me cum best).
Lucy laughed ''this was just a warm up baby''
''i know, but even that is wayy better than when i do it myself''
''do you now''
''what''
''know that this was just a preview''
Ona smirked ''yeah, i know what your capable of and i know what you're wearing''.
''i was just wearing that as an accessoire''.
''so you don't want to use it on me?''
''fuck'' Lucy gulped ''yeah i do''
''get undressed then''
Lucy laughed ''patient is not so patient it seems, might have to write that down''.
''Shut up, get naked and put those glasses back on''.
Lucy shot one eyebrow up, questioning Ona ''someone's got a thing for my glasses?''
Ona blushed ''yeah i just rediscovered it, totally forgot about those''.
The taller woman smirked as she stood up ''Well then I'll put them on for you, and you take of that shirt please, where did you even get that?''.
''in your closet, well i first wanted to take another shirt but then i saw that doctorate and then i thought about you as a doctor'' Ona stopped talking, looking at her girlfriend undress.
''And now we're here'' Lucy finished for her laughingly.
''you're not complaining are you?''
''no, not at all, anything but''
''good''
''still need you to take it of tho''
Ona stood up from the bed, facing the now naked Lucy, who was only wearing her strap and glasses now. ''you take it off''.
''because you ask so nicely'' Lucy joked as she slowly took Ona shirt off ''you just want me touching you'' she concluded as she felt Ona shiver below her touch.
Ona chuckled ''well you certainly have the brains to be a doctor''.
''how bold we are today, might wanna shut up before I bend you over that bed again''.
The Catalan blushed "Well, if it's doctor's orders."
Lucy gulped ''yeah it is''. Ona didn't even wait for Lucy to say that but turned around for the bed, she didn't lean on the bed like earlier, instead she kneeled on the bed and arched her back.
´´fuck, you know you look good huh´´
Ona didn´t reply, she only pushed herself more towards Lucy.
Lucy slowly rubbed the strap along Ona´s wet slit. ´´teasing me with all those pictures´´ when she had gathered enough wetness on the fake cock she lined up with Ona´s enterance ´´posting all those thirsttraps on Insta´´ she kneeded the flesh of Ona´s butt ´´you know you make me crazy´´.
´´fuck Lucy please´´ Ona pleaded as she tried to wiggle backwards, only to be restricted by Lucy´s hands.
Lucy chuckled ´´yeah what do you want´´.
´´fuck me luce´´
´´who´´
Ona gulped ´´fuck me doctor´´. ´´please´´.
´´that´s right´´ Lucy groaned as she slowly pushed inside.
The Catalan dropped her head on her forearms, finally feeling Lucy inside her, something she had been thinking, and even dreaming, about for weeks.
Lucy slapped Ona´s ass, the loud sound filled the room. Ona arched even more, Lucy knew her girlfriend liked it a little rough.
As she came to a steady pace, positioning herself so that she hit all Ona´s spots just like she knew made her feel good, she reached out for Ona´s neck.
Lucy gripped her neck thightly with her hand, the other one still on the shorter womans hip.
Ona moaned as she began to shake on her knees ´´i cant, i´m-
''You can cum baby, come for me'' Lucy cooed as while she picked up Ona so that she didn't fall.
Sounds muffled by the mattress left Ona's throat as she came undone.
Lucy slowly dropped her on the bed and gently pulled out, leaving a couple of kisses on Ona's back.
When Ona kept laying like that, in a position that couldn't possiblely look comfortable, as Lucy thought, she carefully put Ona on her back and scooted her over to the middle of the bed.
''you good?'' Lucy chuckled.
''fuck Lucy, so good''.
''i love you''
''i love you too''.
''we can we can live out all your fantasies today'' Lucy said as she leaned in to kiss her girlfriend.
Ona smiled ''do you know why i didn't like you saying miss. Batlle''
Lucy frowned ''what''
''when you were the doctor, i said you had to call me Ona''
''yeah''
''because i'd prefer another last name''.
---
THE END :)
164 notes · View notes
fluentmoviequoter · 4 months ago
Text
Found Family
Requested Here!
Pairing: Dominique Luca x fem!dentist!reader
Summary: When you finally meet Luca's team, you aren't expecting to run into a man you haven't seen or heard from in years.
Warnings: r is Hicks' daughter, brief depiction of anxiety, angst to fluff
Word Count: 1.9k+ words
Masterlist Directory | Luca Masterlist | Request Info\Fandom List
Picture from Pinterest
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“Will it hurt?” the dental patient waiting beside you asks.
“No,” you assure with a kind smile. “You’ll feel a little pinch, maybe, and then all of the pain will go away.”
He nods, grips the sides of the chair, and closes his eyes as you slide the mouth mirror behind his top molars.
“Hey, doc,” one of the receptionists calls. “We need you at the front when you’re done here.”
“Got it,” you reply quickly, keeping your eyes and mind on your patient. “There we go,” you murmur when you find the cause of the sudden tooth decay. “Here comes the pinch.”
Using the cotton pliers from the dental hygiene set, you extract a small object lodged between teeth fourteen and fifteen, or as you explain to the patient a piece of food that wasn’t removed by flossing or brushing and embedded itself between the back molars.
“How’s it feeling?” you ask once the tools are removed from his mouth.
“Much better,” he answers. “Thank you.”
“Of course. Wendy, your hygienist, will be right back to finish cleaning, then we’ll apply a dental sealant to ensure there’s no further decay or wear on your enamel back there.”
As you stand and discard your gloves, you wave Wendy over to finish the cleaning process. She politely reminds you that you’re needed at the front. However, her knowing look is enough reprimand that you promise to pay more attention without neglecting your patients.
The walk to the reception area is short, but before you reach the end of the hall, you hear a familiar voice.
“Officer Luca,” you greet with a smile. “Are you bothering my receptionist again?”
“No, sweetheart,” Lucille, the receptionist who has told you more than once she thinks Luca is the sweetest little gentleman she’s ever seen, assures. “But you’ve left poor Luca here waiting.”
Luca smiles as he extends his left arm to hug you. “I’ll forgive you,” he whispers against your temple.
“How kind of you,” you tease. “What are you doing here?”
“You said you wanted to leave early today.”
“And she can!” Lucille interrupts. “Her last patient is nearly done.”
“But I…” you begin, though you trail off when Luca looks into your eyes. “Yeah, okay.”
“There, uh, there was one other thing I wanted to ask,” Luca adds. He shifts on his feet, a movement that anyone else would have missed.
“Are you okay?”
Luca smiles and nods but gestures toward Lucille. You smile, take his hand, and lead him to your small office at the back of the building. Once you’re alone, you turn and give Luca a proper hug before you lean back against your desk and encourage him to tell you what’s bothering him.
“We’ve been dating for a while,” Luca says.
You nod and refrain from commenting about being there because you want to know where he’s going. The hug he gave you a moment ago makes you confident he isn’t ending the relationship.
“I want to introduce you to my team. If you’re okay with that.”
You lick your lips and push yourself to stand before him as you ask, “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely. Besides, you might as well meet them before the wedding.”
Luca shrugs as you laugh. When you talked several weeks ago about how serious you were getting, you didn’t anticipate he’d start talking about marriage so quickly. However, you both know that’s what you want, so it doesn’t scare you.
“I would love to meet your team. Especially Street, since I’ve heard so much about him.”
“Sorry,” Luca responds, though his smile doesn’t drop.
“No, no, I support your bromance.”
Luca rolls his eyes as he pulls you against his chest. You lay your hands on his shoulders and look into his eyes as you smile.
“Are you ready?” he asks.
“Right now?” you reply. “I thought you meant-“
“Whenever you want,” Luca amends. “I just mean ready to go.”
“We can go now. If you want.”
“There’s one thing I have to do first.”
Before you can ask what that is, Luca tilts his chin and kisses you.
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“Should I be nervous?” you ask as Luca helps you out of his truck.
“No,” he answers quickly. “Are you?”
“Not really.”
Luca laughs at you, and the sound makes you smile. You tighten your grip on his hand, then follow him into SWAT HQ. Several men are working out, officers are walking through, and people are waiting for various meetings. Most greet Luca, but he continues to lead you through the large common area.
He brushes his thumb over the back of your hand as he pushes a door open. Inside, there’s a large kitchen and sitting area, and five people. They look up when the door opens, greet Luca, then look away again. The woman is the first to realize she needs a second look, and a smile breaks out on her face as she jumps over the back of the couch and rushes toward you.
“Luca!” she yells.
That draws the attention of the men, and when Luca grunts from her well-aimed punch to his shoulder, they follow her lead and join you and Luca.
“Guys, this is my girlfriend,” he begins before introducing you to each member of 20 David Squad.
“It’s nice to meet you,” you say after shaking their hands. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Good things?” Street asks.
“Not about you,” Tan interjects.
“Mostly good things,” you agree.
“So, how long have you two been together?” Deacon asks.
“Almost six months,” you answer.
“What took you so long, man?” Hondo asks Luca. “I thought you were with Deac on the whole ‘when you know, you know’ thing.”
“I am,” Luca replies. “And I’ve known for months, I was just waiting for the right time.”
“What made now the right time?” Chris adds.
“I’ve been wondering the same thing,” you say.
“Duke,” Luca answers.
You nod in understanding as the team waits for further explanation.
“Duke likes me more than him,” you explain, ignoring Luca’s grunt of disagreement. “Somehow, he managed to get in my car and go home with me without either of us noticing. When I brought him back the next day, he didn’t want to let me leave.”
“Sounds like someone trained him well,” Tan says.
“Yeah, how long did that trick take, Luca?” Street inquires. “And were the treats homemade or store-bought?”
“Look,” Luca interrupts, drawing attention back to him rather than Duke. “Now was the right time because things are getting serious, but I don’t feel like I left you out of anything.”
“Romantic,” Hondo mumbles.
“Gross,” Street adds, nodding.
“We’re not mad about the wait,” Deacon assures you and Luca. “And you’re right, we didn’t miss anything. Except maybe the story about Duke, that would’ve been nice to hear right after it happened.”
“If anything, I was robbed,” you point out. “I’ve been hearing stories about you guys without any reference or anything.”
“Apologize,” Chris demands.
“Sorry,” Luca says, though it sounds more like a question.
“We should do something,” Street proposes. “Like go out to dinner or something. Let you ask all the embarrassing questions about Luca you can think of.”
“Or…” you counter. “We could make Luca cook for us all.”
“Okay,” Luca interjects. “Either work, but I am standing right here.”
“There you are!”
You stiffen when you hear someone else enter the kitchen. Luca and his team look toward the door to greet Hicks, but you keep your eyes on Luca.
“This is our commander, Bob Hicks,” Luca tells you. “Hicks, this is-“
You turn toward Hicks but don’t raise your eyes to meet his. He says your name before Luca can, and your shoulders draw up toward your ears.
“You’ve met?” Hondo deduces.
“Yeah,” Hicks answers carefully. “It’s nice to see you.”
“You, too.” You look at Luca and mumble, “I need to go.”
Luca’s brows pinch, but he nods and watches you step past him and walk a wide path around Hicks. He looks at Hicks for several seconds, then rushes out of the kitchen to follow you. 20 David Squad watches your sudden departure, then looks to one another for answers, which none of them have.
Hicks steps toward the door you just exited, but Deacon raises his hand over Hicks’ chest and says, “I think you’ve done enough for now.”
“Anything you want to share, Commander?” Chris asks.
Hicks sighs before he turns toward the five SWAT officers now staring him down.
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After you exit the building, you step to the side and take a few deep breaths. Things were going so well before Bob Hicks walked in, and now Luca’s team will probably never want to see you again. As if he needed to ruin one more thing in your life.
“Hey,” Luca says softly. “Can I touch you?”
You nod eagerly, raising your arms slightly so you can hug Luca. His hugs feel like home, his arms strong around your waist and his head by your shoulder, in the perfect position to whisper calming and loving words in your ear.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper against him.
“Don’t apologize,” he replies, rubbing one hand along your upper back. “It’s okay. Just keep breathing.”
With Luca, you don’t usually realize when you’re getting anxious, but Hicks has a unique effect on you.
“Luca,” you begin. When he nods and pulls back without removing his arms from around you, you admit, “Robert Hicks is my dad.”
“You said you were raised by a single mom,” Luca remembers.
“I was. My mom married… him, they had me, all that. But when I was little, so little I barely remember what he was like before, he divorced my mom. After it was finalized, he cut us off completely. We never heard from him again.”
“That must’ve been hard.”
You nod and wet your lips. “I knew I was losing my parents as a couple, but I didn’t expect to lose my dad completely.”
Luca hugs you again, and as your breathing and heart rate return to normal, you take a deep breath.
“I know I’m overreacting,” you say with a sad chuckle. “Sorry, Luca.”
“You’re not,” Luca promises. His hand raises to your shoulder as he brushes his fingers along the back of your neck. “What can I do for you?”
“You’re perfect,” you whisper. “Thank you.”
Luca smiles before he kisses your forehead. His shift is nearly over, and he decides about what he’d do if he had to choose between Hicks and his job or you.
“Let me tell them that I’m heading out early and I’ll take you home. Maybe Duke can comfort you a little more,” he suggests.
“I’d like that. Can I… can I come in with you?”
“If you’re sure. No one in there is going to be mad at you for this.”
You nod and take Luca’s hand to follow him inside. His team is waiting just inside, and your father is nowhere to be seen.
“I’m sorry for rushing out like that,” you tell them.
“No worries,” Hondo assures.
“I’d run like that if I thought I could get away with it,” Street says.
“You heading out?” Chris asks Luca.
“We are,” Luca answers. “But dinner is still on the table. Not literally, but…”
“We’ll do it soon,” Deacon replies. “And you,” he tells you, “are welcome here whenever you want. You are part of this family now, and if anyone has an issue with that, they can leave.”
“Thank you,” you say softly. “All of you.”
Hondo nods at Luca as you leave, and though you don’t understand that it’s about your dad and how he’s grown as a person, you trust your boyfriend and new family. Plus, when you get home and are sandwiched between the loving cuddles of Luca and Duke, there isn’t much to be anxious about.
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