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mattrempeswife · 3 days ago

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NOT A WAY YOU BREAK A HEART.

pair: jack hughes x f!reader

genre: angst, hurt/comfort, drama.

warnings: cheating, pregnancy, emotional distress, explicit language, heartbreak, mention of sex, yelling, betrayal.

summary: you had a plan to tell jack you’re pregnant, maybe cry, maybe laugh, but ultimately share the life-altering news that your future had just changed. what you didn’t expect was to find out he spent the night with his ex, sammy. you try to be rational. you try to give him a chance to explain. but when he comes home hours past midnight, reeking of perfume that isn’t yours, you snap and the truth unravels in the worst possible way.

fia’s notes: you might be wondering, “fia, why is everything always angst?” well, i gotta admit i personally love angst, especially when it comes to jack hughes. he just has that bad boy vibe, y’know? so why not lean into it. will there be a part 2? maybe… not sure yet. or hey, feel free to imagine your own version of the ending!

The pregnancy test was still sitting on the edge of the sink.

You stared at it, unable to move, unable to breathe. The two pink lines glared back at you like a cruel joke. Your fingers trembled as you gripped the porcelain counter, trying to keep yourself grounded.

You were pregnant.

With Jack’s baby.

The first emotion to hit you wasn’t fear. It was joy. Wild, warm, all-consuming joy. Jack had always loved kids. You remembered the way he looked at your nephews, the soft voice he used when talking to babies in restaurants, the way his eyes crinkled at the thought of being a dad ‘someday.’

Someday. That someday had just become today.

You’d planned to tell him tonight. You bought a tiny Devils onesie, tucked the test inside a small gift box. Your hands had been shaking from excitement, nerves, and something else. A whisper of dread.

Because the whisper had started earlier that day.

A friend of a friend. A casual,

“Did you know Jack went out with Sammy last night?”

You’d laughed at first. No, he didn’t. Jack would’ve told me.

But then your phone had buzzed.

Text from Jamie

‘saw Jack at 512 last night. wasn’t that sammy?’

512. The bar downtown. One of the few places you hated because it held memories you were never part of him and Sammy, back when they were still ‘Jack and Sammy.’

Your fingers had typed a message and then deleted it. Typed again. Deleted.

You didn’t want to be that girlfriend.

So you waited.

The gift box sat on the table by the front door. You lit a candle. Poured a glass of water. Put on the hoodie he liked stealing from you.

9 p.m.

11:30 p.m.

1:45 a.m.

He still wasn’t home.

And then the key turned.

You were on the couch, curled up like you weren’t unraveling from the inside out.

Jack walked in smelling like tequila and expensive perfume. His hair was a mess. His eyes blinked like he hadn’t expected you to be awake.

“Hey,” he said, like it was normal.

Like this was normal.

You stood. “Where were you?”

His smile faltered. “What?”

“I asked you a question.”

He scratched the back of his neck, uneasy.

“I was out.”

“Out?” Your voice cracked.

“With who?”

He hesitated.

And that was all it took.

“Sammy?” you whispered.

Jack’s lips parted. He didn’t confirm. He didn’t deny.

He didn’t have to.

“I was gonna tell you tonight,” you said quietly.

“About the baby.”

Jack’s brows furrowed. “What—”

“I’m pregnant, Jack,” you said, voice low, shaking.

“I’m pregnant with your child.”

The silence between you was suffocating.

His mouth moved, but no sound came out. Then,

“Why didn’t you call me?”

You let out a dry laugh.

“Because I thought you were mine. Because I thought we were us. I didn’t think I needed to compete with your fucking ex for your attention.”

“It wasn’t like that,” he said quickly.

“Sammy reached out. She wanted to talk—”

“So you took her on a date?”

“It wasn’t a date.”

“She wore perfume.”

He blinked.

“She kissed you, didn’t she?”

Jack looked down.

“Fucking hell,” you said, backing away.

“You didn’t just kiss her, did you?”

Jack moved toward you, desperate now.

“It didn’t mean anything. I didn’t plan for it—”

“You never do,” you spat.

“That’s the problem with you. You don’t plan. You act like love is some casual game, like people are just pieces on your board.”

“Please don’t say that.”

You wiped a tear with the back of your hand.

“I was sitting here, waiting to tell you we were going to be a family. I imagined your face. I thought… maybe you’d cry, or laugh, or hold me. But you were too busy sticking your dick in your ex.”

“Jesus, Y/N—”

“Don’t you fucking Jesus me.”

Jack flinched like you slapped him.

And you didn’t stop. You couldn’t stop.

“I gave you everything. Every soft part of me. Every broken one, too. And you just… you just fucking threw it all away.”

You were crying now, full-body sobs you couldn’t control.

“I wanted you to want me. I wanted this baby to be loved. But all I see when I look at you is her.”

His face crumpled. “Don’t say that.”

You shoved past him, storming to the door.

“Where are you going?” he called after you.

You turned, hand on the doorknob, shaking from fury and heartbreak. And then the words fell out like poison.

“Now your girlfriend is pregnant with your baby and you, Jack Hughes, stick your fucking dick in your ex’s ass. Great, Jack.”

And you left.

You didn’t take the gift box.

You didn’t look back.

Jack stood in the hallway, frozen in place, surrounded by shadows and the sickening scent of guilt clinging to his skin.

He touched the back of his neck. The candle was still burning. The hoodie still smelled like you.

The box by the door was open, the onesie staring up at him like a grave he’d dug himself.

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cuteandhughesy · 2 days ago

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Shatter Me With Your Touch | Anthony Stolarz

summary: your older brother mitch marner has only ever asked for one thing: never, under any circumstances, hook up with one of his teammates. and you're going strong....right until anthony stolarz shows up. (the 3 times you and anthony push the limits of your secret relationship, and the 1 time it bites you in the ass).

[word count] 4.7k

a/n: this is purely stemmed of this blurb—and you will be seeing the same scene in this story. I just knew I had to further explore this story line and share this cute and love story! plus there’s never enough stoly!

see my other brothers teammate 3 + 1 series here

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one

your brother mitch marner has always been protective. like the kind of stereotypical protective that makes you want to rip your hair right out of your scalp, and gauge your eyes out anytime you're at the family dinner table and he starts asking your boyfriend a million questions—questions that are nothing but patronizing. honestly, protective doesn't do it justice, unreasonably overprotective is a much better fit.

you're his younger sister, two years younger than him to be exact, and because of that age gap, mitch has always felt the need to look out for you and your feelings—especially when it comes to dating.

and it's not for no reason, because you? you've always been the kind of person who would give the shirt off your back if someone else was cold, and the kind of girl who would think bare minimum behaviour was god sent. you are almost too kind and forgiving. maybe even a little naive.

from a young age, mitch saw the way people took advantage of you and your kindness, and felt that it was his responsibility to keep you safe and out of harms way. when you started highschool—and begun dating and going out—mitch's protectiveness only got worse. no boy was good enough, even when they were. your brother would drive boys away with menacing looks, and what he called 'stern talkings'—which are also known as straight up threats.

high on changing hormones and left feeling trapped, it didn't take long into your junior year of highschool for you to break. you sat both your brothers down—because yes, they were both ridiculously protective—and begged for them to chill the fuck out. you yelled and cried and practically shook their shoulders until they agreed to relax.

christopher was never really the problem, so he backed off instantly. mitch though? he took a little bit of extra convincing. after you got to your knees and pleaded, he had sighed lowly, meeting your eyes before reluctantly nodding. but before you got too excited, mitch had said—"under one circumstance."

and that circumstance? you will never, under any circumstance, date his friends, and you certainly will never date his teammates. obviously, with this new found feeling of freedom and independence that came with mitch’s compliance, told your brother that he'd never have to worry about that.

and for years, everything was going according to plan. your and mitch's relationship grew into a friendship now that he felt he no longer needed to constantly hover over you, and you kept your dating pool out of mitch's circle of friends. it wasn't difficult considering most of mitch's friends where your friends, and you didn't see them in that way. and then when mitch started getting more serious about hockey, he barley went out or had his teammates over at the house—so you never had the chance to met them, never mind get to know them.

you can remember steph, all bleach blonde hair and bubbly grin, would beg for you to join her at the games. small hands pulling and tugging at your arm like an over excited kid in a toy store. but you weren't really interested at that point in your life. you were still a few years younger than them and with your last year of high school being so busy, frankly, you didn't the have time to sit at a cold arena for three hours.

"maybe you'll find a guy," steph used to tease, winking at you discreetly in the dim light of the family living room.

you always responded the same way, "im not into hockey players."

when mitch made it to the nhl, that's when you started going to games more often. your schedule was less hectic and more open, and you always jumped at the chance to spend time away from dorm rooms and frat guys. plus, you got to drink beers that mitch was paying for, and chat with steph about school and boys without the prying ears of your brothers or your parents.

as the years passed, and you and mitch got older, his dating rule or protectiveness over you never wavered. sure, he wasn't as intense as he once was—keeping his cool like you asked him too—but mitch never truly changed. he just became better at hiding it. and now with his life in the spotlight, your brother truly just wanted to keep you safe. from the media of course, but especially from the new group of sleazy guys that are coming in and out of toronto.

much to his relief, you never planned on rebuking mitch's dating rule. you had a job, and aspirations and went out with your own friends and found guys on your own accord. hockey players were long gone in your mind.

but then, anthony stolarz waltzed into toronto with a summer tan and a perfect smile and completely turned your world inside out. anthony is older than you, 6 years older than you to be precise—he's mature, but doesn't take himself too seriously. he's outgoing and sweet and fucking huge. seriously, he could crush your head with his bicep. anthony had introduced himself to you with a playful and intriguing gleam, and it instantly had you feeling…things.

anytime after that, if you were in anthony's presence, you automatically became flustered. it doesn't help that he always chose to sit next to you, and talk lowly to you, and smile at you from across the room. anthony's had all those new faces and teammates to spend time with, and yet he only seemed interested in spending time with you.

and steph? she knew you like him. your sister-in-law is your number one supporter but also your biggest enemy, you swear. anytime mitch or someone else in a room would mention anthony's name, or she would spot you and the net-minder within five feet of one other, steph was wiggling her brows at you and grinning like the devil.

and it's fine, you thought. it's just a stupid crush on a new, older man. you'd get over it. it's not reciprocated. that flurry of feelings you grew for anthony would soon blow over and you won't have to walk on eggshells around mitch anymore—too afraid that if you breathed the wrong way, your brother would find out about your embarrassing crush.

expect it was totally reciprocated, and after too many glasses of wine and access to a private bathroom at some fancy toronto bar after an important win, you and anthony snuck off—giggling like tipsy kids in between kisses and breathless moans as anthony's length slide through your gummy, arousal coated walls.

just when you thought it would be a one time thing—a one night stand that helped get your feelings for anthony out of your system—it happened again in a supply closet during a marner foundation event. and then again in anthony's car after you two went to dinner as 'just friends'. and then again in your apartment, and then his and before you realize it, you are having sex every other night.

and kissing and laughing and ordering in your favourite take out and watching movies together.

in the blink of an eye, anthony stolarz is your secret, older boyfriend.

in the first few months, you're both really good at keeping your relationship under wraps. you set struck rules for yourselves—like standing at separate ends of rooms, no longing stares in each others direction, no dates in public, and certainly no sneaky displays of affection in places where someone could see.

but as you fall more and more in love, it's harder to hold back, resulting in more than risky situations that might as well have you begging to get caught.

—

the chatter flows around you, warm and breezy, the contagious laughter of william nylander and rumbling voice of john tavares familiar sounds where they cut through the chimes of utensils on plates.

your dinner sits in front of you, mostly untouched, but not for a lack of hunger. in fact—you're starving, maybe just not for food. because with anthony beside you, looking extra large and delicious in comparison to the dining room chair he's sitting on—a dining room chair that isn't that small...he's just that big—it’s hard to focus on anything but him.

casually, you stab some of the mini roasted potato's with your fork, keeping your eyes trained on aryne tavares and jake mccabe’s wife on the other side of the table—the latter of the two women talking about some new palates class she's started.

everyone is either listening to her, and if not her, a different conversation that’s happening along the stretch of the tavares’ dining room table. without looking away from the girls, your free hand leaves your own lap, and ever so gentley—as if not to startle him— it finds anthony's knee.

you scratch along the taut muscles underneath his jeans soothingly. teasingly. each pass of your fingers climbing higher up his leg.

and anthony knows what you're doing. he's all too familiar with it. he fights off a smirk and the urge to look over at you, clearing his throat quietly before taking a large gulp of water. you’ve got him all hot and bothered and he’s definitely getting hard in his pants.

you catch the movement out of the corner of your eye and a grin grows across your face. flattening your hand on the top of his thigh, you let your pinky finger brush over his bulge like the little shit you are.

that makes anthony choke on his gulp of water, which gathers the attention of a few of the guys and their significant others around you.

quickly, before you get caught feeling up the newest leaf goal tender under the table, you bring your hand back to your lap—playful smirk never wavering.

"you good stoly?" max domi asks curiously, eyes squinted in a mixture of concern and humour. anthony can only hum while wiping the dribble of water from his chin with the back of his hand.

casually, you rest your chin on your palm—the same palm that was just on anthony's leg. your eyes flicker with something teasing, "yeah, everything okay?"

anthony lets out a short laugh, shooting you a look—a look that others may just think is friendly, but you recognize it as a warning. a wordless demand to behave. it only sends your stomach into a twirling thrill.

"yeah, just swallowed down the wrong hole."

but even still, anthony can't resist teasing you back once all eyes are once again distracted, ring finger slipping under your skirt and passing over your lacy underwear until you're biting down on your knuckles to ensure no sighs slip out.

steph shoots you a look, which makes anthony pull away—sporting a smug grin on his face as he chews the piece of asparagus he pushes past his upturned lips.

two

it's not very often you get tipsy at leaf games. usually you're too busy hiding your face behind your hands in a stressful manner, or entertaining the gangle of children running around the suite. but today, for some reason—and that reason being $1 beer night—you're not just tipsy, you're borderline hammered.

it takes steph a whole 10 minutes to get you out of the suite and down to the tunnel—coaxing you out of there with reassuring words and an amused glint in her eye. because yeah, drunk people are annoying—especially when the other party is sober—but you're so funny and floppy right now that it makes up for the amount of alcohol you consumed.

and when steph manages to finally get you down to the tunnel, and you lean you against the wall, and you stay there...she considers it a small victory. but that all changes when anthony makes his way out of the locker room, looking divine in his dark suit and hair damp from a shower—smile wide and high off a win.

you sigh dreamily, head rolling back against the concrete wall as you watch his movements. anthony hasn't spotted you yet—which is probably a good thing for your sake, because the sight of his eyes right now would send you into cardiac arrest. but then a frown is pulling at your lips. because pontus holmberg pulls his girl into his arms and kisses her, and you just want to act normal and be able to go up to your boyfriend. kiss him silly in front of everyone.

it wasn't uncommon for you to wait in the tunnels with steph after games, especially when you've driven to the rink together. which is the case nine times out of ten. typically after a win, steph would want to see mitch before heading home, especially because mitch likes to go out for dinner after good games.

so everytime you'd be waiting in the tunnels, you'd have to physically restrain yourself from runnning towards anthony. he will always smile at you when your eyes catch—definitely a little too sexy of a smile for trying to be discrete. but that was always it. besides some eye playful eye tag, neither of you ever pushed those boundaries.

not when your brother could walk out at any moment and catch you.

but once again, you're well passed tipsy, and you just want to love up on your man like all the other wags get to do. so before you can even think logically about your actions, your feet are moving, and moving in anthony's direction, heels clicking on the floor as you make your way through the lingering crowd.

and steph doesn't try and stop you. she just covers her eyes with an exhausted hand, blowing a quiet raspberry to herself as she represses a laugh. you told her about your secret relationship with the newest leaf goaltender 4 hours after that team dinner. because like usual, your sister in law read you like a book and had in incline before you even said anything.

anthony's in a casual conversation with morgan, completely unaware of the way your striding towards him—not until you're right in front of him and the defence man.

you wrap your hand around anthony's bicep, blinking up at him with glassy eyes just as you stumble on your own feet. if it wasn't for your hold on your boyfriends arm, you'd be halfway to the floor by now.

"hi," you beam unashamedly, glossy lips tempting him in ways you'll never understand.

anthony swallows, his bright eyes squinting down at you with amusement. he shoots a tentative glance at morgan, who is just stifling laughter like he knows—which, god damn it tessa, because obviously you had to tell her too and clearly she’s told her husband. "hi," anthony parrots after a beat.

"missed you," you slur, pushing up onto the toes of your heeled boots and puckering your lips expectantly, "can I have a kiss?" you hum, body swaying.

anthony laughs shortly, rubbing the back of his neck while he subtly scanning the room—checking to see if anyone is watching. more specifically, anybody who definitely shouldn't be watching. also known as mitch marner, who is one of the many people who still don't know about your relationship.

and for now, you'd like to keep it that way. not that drunk you cares though.

morgan has slipped away from you both now, and there's only a few lingering bodies left in the tunnel. anthony spots steph, now eyeing you sneakily. which means your brother is still here. in the locker room, yeah, but still here.

"we really shouldn't." anthony mumbles, eyes finding your glossy ones again. despite his words, anthony lets his hand wrap around your waist, keeping you against his chest to steady the drunk sway you have going on. slowly, he licks along his bottom lip, words no louder than a whisper, "your brother could catch us."

"so?" you huff, pushing even further up his body. clearly, you don’t give a damn. "just a quick kiss." you say, hands flat against his chest, still searching for a smooch. you're too happy on beer and in love to think about your brothers stupid rule right now. you couldn't care less about anything besides your gigantic, sexy boyfriend—who is grinning down at you like you're the best thing that's ever happened to him.

and you are. more than the nhl. more than the stanley cup. more than breathing.

so quickly, anthony leans down, free hand enclosing on the side of your face as he tilts your head up, and connects your lips together. he's just a man after all, and with a pretty girl like you begging and blinking up at him, who's he to say no?

the kiss doesn't last nearly as long as you need it to, and you whine pathetically when anthony pulls away from your mouth. you're not caught, thankfully, and that only makes you want to kiss him over and over again.

"i'll see you later, kay?" anthony whispers softly, talking his hand off your hips once you drop back down to your heels.

you nod, taking your bottom lip between your teeth, "love you." you sing song dreamily.

he smirks, "love you too."

three

to say you and anthony became comfortable in the secrecy of your relationship was an understatement. you were really pushing your limits now, making out in the guest bathroom of auston's matthew's condo like a pair of porn stars—slow, syrupy and messy.

once you told steph and tessa about anthony, it wasn't soon after that the rest of the wags found out—all of them sworn to the upmost secrecy—and in turn, a lot of their men found out as well. which wasn't your most ideal situation, but after threatening to cut their balls off, they seemed to be able to keep their lips zipped.

that knowledge amongst the majority of the leafs roster definitely contributes to the more relaxed approach you and anthony find yourselves in, in regards to your relationship. you tell yourself that's the reason you decided to sneak off to the bathroom today—even though you would've ended up here regardless. anthony is looking way to sexy today to just ignore.

and you? you've been driving him insane all evening with your pretty skirt and top and the perfume clinging to your soft skin—perfume that smells like sex. anthony can't help but trail his lips down your taut neck, inhaling the smell like it's his own personal drug.

the sound of your breathless gasps and mewls quickly has anthony returning his mouth back to yours though. because you're truly irresistible to him. always have been. as soon as your lips are back in their familiar dance, everything else fades away. the distant chatter and rapid heart beats between you—none of that exists anymore.

anthony's large hand slides up the side of your bare thigh, lifting your skirt higher and higher up your leg, while his tongue prods the plump skin of your bottom lip. you allow him the entrance he's seeking instantly, which makes anthony smirk into the kiss.

the counter top is cool under your skin where you sit on top, making your arch away and further into anthony's hold. but he doesn't mind one bit—grabbing at your skin and pulling you even closer, your barley covered core rubbing against his and creating delicious friction.

it's erotic and dangerous and you really should've double checked that the door was locked. because the feeling of dread and anxiety that surges through your boood stream when that bathroom door is thrown open is other worldy.

anthony pulls off of your mouth just as you let out a breathless gasp, both of your heads turning towards the entry way.

"holy fuck—sorry." auston matthews familiar voice has turned high pitched, which can only be a result of embarrassment and surprise as he registers the scene in front of him. and just as quick as he opened the door, the captain is slamming it closed.

silence envelopes the bathroom once again—but you can't hear anything over the blood pumping in your ears. you're both frozen in place—you, on the bathroom counter, legs still spread and lips glistening with a mixture of your and anthony's saliva. and anthony, 5 steps away from you, shirt wrinkled, hair tousled and chest heaving.

once your brain catches up to what the fuck just happened, your quickly slipping off the counter. you stumble briefly, but that doesn't slow you down as you practically run after auston matthews.

you could try and deny it, but your actions speak for themselves. and what auston just saw? there's nothing in the world that you could say that would make it innocent. so that only leaves you with one other option: begging.

thankfully, auston didn't get far, and you catch him easily, fingers enclosing around his thick wrist to halt him. he spins around to face you, dark eyes still wide with disbelief and...maybe a little bit of amusement? it's hard to tell when you're so panicked.

"auston," you start, gaze all but frantic, "please please please, don't say anything about what you just saw to anyone. especially mitch. he doesn't know yet, and if this is how he finds out—"

"hey," auston interrupts with a short laugh. "calm down, you're stressing me out."

you blink what feels like a hundred times and you drop his arm. auston's gaze flickers over your shoulder briefly, eyes glimmering with something unknown. curious, you find the subject of his attention.

anthony is behind you, lips slightly parted as his gaze narrows in on the goal scorer. it's then you understand that look in auston's eyes—it's understanding. it's a promise to anthony's wordless plea.

"don't worry kid," auston says once you turn back towards him, "your secret is safe with me."

+one

the leafs have a rare off day today—only two days before their two week long road trip over on the west coast—which means that anthony had no other plans but to be with you. more specifically, in bed, taking turns with either licking into your pussy until you're making a mess on his tongue, or pounding into you until the headboard is smacking against the wall.

it's very rare that the two of you get to have alone time, never mind getting to have proper sex. so when this kind of opportunity arises, both of you are taking it without a second thought.

you can't complain really. not when your legs are over your boyfriends thick shoulders, his cock perfectly massaging your gummy walls as he thrusts into you. the sounds between you are lewd—slapping and squealing and desperate, needy pants and grunts.

you've gone dumb on anthony's cock as he splits you in two, your jaw slack and eyes glazed as you peer up at him. and anthony fucking loves it. his hand grips your jaw firmly, keeping your eyes trained on him. the pad of his thumb pulls down your bottom lip, slowly, as a smirk grows on his face.

"gunna miss you when i'm gone baby," he pants, movements never faltering, "i'm gunna miss your pretty pussy—fuck."

the only responses you can manage is another drawn out moan and your fingers gripping his bulging biceps even tighter.

—

mitch marner pushes the front door of your place open with his hip, too busy balancing your moms homemade casserole in his hands to open the door properly. it’s your favourite home cooked meal, ready to go in a glass dish, that bonnie marner insisted mitch drop off at yours before making his way home.

his car keys are held tightly between his lips, giving him limited opportunity to make a coherent sentence, but he calls out a muffled greeting to you regardless.

no response.

mitch's brows furrow as he puts the food dish on your kitchen island. he drops his phone and keys beside the dish before spinning on his heels, peering into the living room where you're normally hiding—tucked under some fluffy blanket with a book in your lap.

the books there, open and face down on the coffee table—blanket at the foot of the pink chair—but you're nowhere in sight. a rush of panic washes over your brother. mitch had texted you 10 minutes ago, just as he was leaving your parents, to tell you he'd be stopping by with a mountain of food, but he didn't get a response then.

and then once he got here, your front door wasn't even locked. which wouldn't of been that crazy if you knew mitch was on his way over, but your lack of response has mitch second guessing your knowledge of his arrival.

"y/n?" he calls your name again, spinning around for good measure to make sure he didn't miss you the first time.

it only then does he spot a pair of shoes next to your usual slip ons—shoes that are definitely way to big for you and definitely belong to a man. logic goes out the window in that moment because mitch hums curiously, walking down the hall towards your closed bedroom door.

mitch doesn't even hesitate before turning the handle, "y/n? who's here?—ah, what the fuck?!" your brothers words die on his tongue at the sight of you and his goaltender in bed...together...doing things that make mitch want to bleach his eyes out.

it's bad enough to walk in on a family member having sex, but when the guy pounding said family member just last night was laughing and chatting like nothing was happening, makes mitch fucking shiver. oh god, he literally congratulated anthony on his win last night. little did mitch know the real prize for anthony stolarz was getting to fuck mitch marner’s little sister.

"oh my god!" you shout, wrapping the floral bedsheet around your very naked torso. "get out!"

and mitch doesn't need to be told twice. the bedroom door slams shut—so loudly and with so much force that the pictures hanging on your wall shake. regardless of the door now being shut, mitch covers his eyes with his hand while he physically moans and cringes for extra measure.

"oh my god," his voice sounds from the hallway, all dramatic and whiny. "my eyes."

you and anthony share a look—a look that's a mixture of terror and concern. because not only does mitch now know that you’re together in this capacity, but he's also just seen his baby sister having sex. you jump out of bed, tangled in your bedding, and stomp towards the door.

you don't open it, not yet, but you smack the wood wildly. "mitchell, what are you doing here!"

"I was trying to drop off some of mom's casserole—I texted you! I can't believe what I just saw." the latter party of his scentence trails off, tone low like mitch is saying it to himself. mitch swallows dramatically, rubbing at his face. "I'm gunna puke."

you laugh in disbelief. "you're gunna puke? i'm going to die."

the springs of your mattress creak behind you as anthony gets out of bed. slipping on his boxers, he makes his way towards you—all broad and warm as anthony comes up to stand behind your bare, glistening back. he reaches for you, squeezing your bicep comfortingly.

guilt prickles at your skin, and you take your bottom lip between your teeth as a nervous habit—gnawing your plump skin until it feels sore. anthony kisses your head subconsciously, a gesture that calms you down just enough to enable you to squeak out an apology. "i'm sorry, mitchy."

emotion clogs your throat and it makes your brother sigh, hand falling from his scruff and hitting his leg with a soft thud. "don't cry, y/n."

ever so slowly, the door squeaks open—not fully though, mindful of the sheet covering you—and your head pokes out. your eyes are glassy and your lip wobbles and the protective older brother side of him wants nothing more than to fix this.

"are you mad at us?" you sniffle.

us.

through the slim space between the door and the frame, mitch has a harsh reminder that anthony stolarz is with you—his t-shirt strew across the bench at the end of your bed, his cologne clinging to the sheet around you. hell, mitch can see anthony’s fucking gigantic hand holding the back of your neck softly.

he's comforting you.

mitch sighs reluctantly. because yes, he's not thrilled with this entire situation, but clearly, anthony is a good guy—your brother has a front row seat to that—anthony is a man who clearly cares for you. "i'm more mad about you not knowing how to lock doors than anything else."

you breath hitches, a glimmer of something that feels like hope tickling your heart, "really?"

a slow nod, "yes." mitch's eyes fall over your body, or rather, your sheet, and he shivers again, turning away to give you privacy and himself some fucking peace of mind. "now just...get dressed and we can talk about it."

#🤍⊹˚₊ cute and hughesy fic #anthony stolarz imagine #anthony stolarz x reader #anthony stolarz smut #anthony stolarz #anthony stolarz blurb #nhl smut #nhl imagine #nhl fanfic #nhl blurb #nhl x reader #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #hockey x reader #hockey imagine #hockey blurb #hockey smut #hockey fic

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semperamans · 2 days ago

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hello my beautiful friends & welcome back - i am so happy you're here ❤️ this is part two of my untitled smau series! if you missed part one you can check it out here!

i honestly wasn't expecting anyone to read (or enjoy it) so knowing so many of you have warms my freaking heart :( thank you x100.

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a few rounds later...

*spongebob narrator voice* a few moments later...

on twitter...

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liked by andreastella, nicolepiastri, fernandoalo_oficial, jackharlow, f1, and more

mclaren that’s our boy 🧡 🏆

view all 23,432 comments

danielricciardo mega 💪🏽

alex_albon he's him.

circuitcutie correction, that is YN's man 🙌🏻

classic_f1_takes amazing performance — don’t let the pop star circus ruin it.

↳ starryeyesandbutterflies oooooooh brother, you're about to get rightfully ratio'd by an f1 stan with taylor swift lyrics in their bio ☠️

↳ darling_yn just say you don’t like women in motorsport culture and go.

f1legacy great race. let’s hope the headlines are about Oscar this time, not some popstar drama.

↳ ilove_hattiep the headline is about oscar. you’re the one dragging her into it??? come on grandpa it's time for bed

↳ prettiest_yn can we just let the win be a win? or is that too boring without a woman to blame?

mclaren_god 👏👏👏 let’s gooooo!!!

landonorris guess all that simulator time finally paid off!

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liked by landonorris, georgerussell, markwebber, yourbrother, and danielricciardo

oscarpiastri not bad! 👍🏻

mclaren we will take more sundays like this 🧡

↳ zakbrown indeed!

landonorris bit of an understatement, mate

↳ georgerussell don’t worry, he’ll be insufferable about it in the group chat

↳ alex_albon real.

↳ danielricciardo that's not the only thing he's going to be insufferable about 👀

↳ oscarpiastri 😐

mclaren_forever he posts like he’s not trending in seven countries rn

yourbrother well earned! ♥️ by author

↳ ynupdates UHHH WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!

↳ pitstop_piastri this basically means that oscar is invited to thanksgiving at yn's place 🤷🏻‍♀️

↳ sunshineforyn this man said 2 words and threw the fandom into emotional shambles. iconic.

hattiepiastri mum said good job

papaya_oscar can’t believe i’m emotionally attached to a man who captions a career-defining moment like he just found a good parking spot 😭

boxboxbaby oscar liking yn's brother's comment but not his own sister's comment is diabolical fdsjkfsfh

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yourusername uploaded a story!

track5tears replied "ok but when is the wedding??? can i come??? can lando be my +1????"

madi.jpg replied: "i've beat the shit out of my brother for stealing my charger. ur a saint."

lover_yn replied "it's the way he posted and disappeared like nothing happened i am W E A K"

yourbrother replied "will you still babysit the girls next week though 😭"

random_account432412 replied "CoNgRaTuLaTiOns! You have won a free iPhone! To claim your rewa..."

oscarpiastri replied "i think the FIA should investigate this breach of privacy..."

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duexmoi uploaded a story!

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liked by yns_girls, cloudywithachanceofyn, ynandpapaya, yourusername, and others

yourname_source as many of you know, Valera and i have been running this account for almost four years now and we *never* thought we'd get the chance to meet YN, but tonight iT HAPPENED 😭

i am typing this through tears 😭 okay okay so we are here on spring break & wanted to do all of the touristy things, which means we of course took a tour of Electric Lady Studios (where YN has recorded most of her albums). it was so cool, highly recommend. once the tour was over we exited out of the back doors (which we probably weren't supposed to but the sinage was so confusing 😭). anyway there was this black SUV just parked in the alley and Valera says, "imagine if that was YN." AND THE BITCH WAS RIGHT 😭😭😭

YN rolled down the window and istg for a solid two minutes Valera and i were just babbling because ?????? this shit only happens in movies ??? when we finally got it together we told her how long we've been supporting her and all of the shows we've been to and she promised to keep an eye out for us next time and she kept thanking us and using our names and giving us this soft ass smile that makes me want to DIE JUST THINKING ABOUT 😭 she is so easy to talk to and genuine and 😭😭 we asked her for pictures & then we parted ways but, guys, we absolutely made the right person famous.

yourusername thank you for absolutely everything. we love you forever.

📸: us :')

view all 34,321 comments

ynsgirly im crying like this happened to me 😭 you two deserved this 💖

in_my_yn_era this is so pure. this account is run on love and vibes and now… MAIN CHARACTER ENERGY 💕

shouldntbehere okay but like… did she seem okay? 👀

↳ valera_loves_yn she was kind, present, and glowing ☀️

shedoesntgohere i can't believe she's out trying to make people forget shawn has a podcast coming out soon lol

↳ ynsgirl222 we forgot on our own babe? no distraction needed?

↳ jazzysfearless she’s allowed to walk down a street without consulting shawn’s promo schedule lol??

↳ sunisunshine oh nooooo! not her minding her own business!!! nooooooo yn how dare youuuuuu

sc4rlett_44 crying FOR you two!! this is the energy you both give out and i’m so happy it came back to you 💞

onlyhere4drama did you guys ask her about shawn??? oscar???

↳ forever_sunshine don't pmo.

↳ ynsgirljess no??? imagine meeting your favorite artist and using your one shot to talk about men. couldn’t be us 🤭

yourusername you two completely made my night!! you exuded so much warmth, so much kindness — you have no idea how much that meant to me. thank you for being exactly who you are 🤍

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#f1 smau #oscar piastri smau #oscar piastri #formula 1 #formula 1 fic #daniel ricciardo #lando norris #mclaren #social media au #oscar piastri fanfic #op81

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at-this-point-i-dont-even-know · 3 days ago

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Lean On Me (Part 1/?)

Pairing: Dr Michael 'Robby" Rabinovitch x younger! Langdon's little sister! reader

Reader is the youngest sister to Frank and is called back from Europe to care for her brother.

Warnings: talk about rehab, drug use, casual drinking, slow burn (maybe).

You woke with a screaming headache and your phone ringing, the small rectangle vibrating so much it had fallen from your bedside and was halfway under the bed before you had a chance to grab it.

You swear under your breath at the brightness, your hostel room was pitch black as your phone told you it was 2am, just an hour or so after you had stumbled from a nightclub and into your bed.

“Turn that off.” muttered a voice beside you and you pulled the blanket further up your body. You had forgotten that in the midst of a night of drinking, and dancing you had brought home a ‘guest’.

You don’t bother uttering an apology before getting out of the bed and going to the bathroom and slamming the door shut. Your last hundred euros had gone to this single room in a Hungarian hostel after months of living with ten random strangers, and on your first night you had decided to invite someone back.

You slam your head back against the closed door and took a deep breath. You’d been in Europe for five months now, any savings you had had left after sorting out your family's drama and almost all of it was gone now between transport and living costs, bar your emergency ‘the world is ending’ fund.

But this had been your dream once, cut out photos of ancient architecture and historical locations from national geographic magazines had been plastered on your bedroom wall, your locker and phone case, all you had wanted while you worked three jobs and took care of your family was to one day stand in the shadows of castles and cathedrals. So you had used every last dollar to get yourself to Europe, while your friends at home settled into careers, and life.

Your phone buzzed again, pulling you back to the present.

Your mother was calling.

She had called 15 times according to your cracked phone screen.

Fuck!

“Hi Ma!” you say, as fake cheerfully as you can at 2am after a night of drinking and half an hour of sleep.

“Where have you been! I have been calling for hours!”

Half an hour at most you think to yourself before swallowing a sigh.

“Sorry Ma, it's like 2 am here! What's wrong?”

Your mother huffs and you can almost picture her in the kitchen, cigarette in one hand, a forgotten glass of wine in the other no matter the time of day.

You do the maths, it's probably around 4pm in Pittsburgh.

“You need to come home now! It’s your brother.”

Your stomach dropped and your knees buckled. Frank was your big brother, a larger than life figure in your universe, who you had spent many years protecting from your parents, and making sure he had everything he needed to get through life with as little bumps as possible. But in the last few years everything had calmed down on the Frank front, he had gotten married when his girlfriend got pregnant, then another kid had come quickly after that. He had gotten his residency at the local hospital in the town they had grown up in. He had his life on the right track.

“What-” you try to ask for more information but you can’t breath, you can’t stand any longer and the cool, very gross tiles on the hostel bathroom felt like heaven against your now clammy skin.

“Rehab, they sent him to rehab!”

“What for?”

And with one word your world fell apart and you were back on a plane.

Drugs.

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It should be illegal for the sun to shine so brightly when you have no time to appreciate it. Pittsburgh had decided to pull out all the stops for a beautiful day, the sun was shining, there were birds singing in the trees and even a butterfly had landed on your jacket as you rushed from Frank's apartment to the rehabilitation facility.

The only dampening thing about the day was you, as you huffed at the butterfly and sent glaring looks at anyone who tried to make small talk as you waited for the bus, then walked the additional mile from the stop to the door. Your mood was foul and your temper worse.

At 29 years of age you were officially feeling like an old curmudgeon, and after spending the majority of your life looking after your parents and brother, you had thought yourself finally free from their shackles but it had taken one phone call and one overdrawn charge on your credit card to find yourself once again at the mercy of your family.

You tried to remind yourself daily that it wasn’t Frank's fault, addiction is a disease, and one with no real cure. But it’s hard to do that after two weeks filled with appointments with his therapists, his counsellors and then a stilted dinner last night with his apparently ex-wife and kids which ended up with you getting a puppy dumped in your lap.

The said puppy then spent all night crying on your pillow before peeing in your still unpacked suitcase.

The said peeing in the suitcase meant you were now wearing yesterday's underwear which you had washed in the sink, and one of Frank's shirts, which was tiny on your larger frame, the word PITTSBURGH now stretch tight over your tits.

The rehab facility was nice, a modern building amongst turn of the last century offices. You walked past it twice on the first day, it blended it well to the built up area.

You had wanted to send Frank to a rehabilitation centre further out of town, somewhere with a big garden, but between the three credit cards you had taken out and the very last of your emergency ‘the world is ending’ funds, an inner city place was the best you could get.

In your brother's defense he hadn’t complained about the location or the facilities, instead on his good days he spent most of his time trying his best to be positive about the whole thing. On his bad days, the location was the last thing he cared about, he just wanted to scream and throw things at you when you refused to let him leave.

Frank wasn’t in his room when you got there, and you knew he didn’t have group therapy or a one on one session this afternoon so you wandered from room to room, looking for him, smiling at the nurses and orderlies that now knew you by name.

You located Frank in the back common room, hunched over a table with a stranger, a game of chess half played between them.

You couldn’t hear what was being said but you could see the tension in your brother's shoulders and your stomach dropped.

It was going to be a bad day.

Great.

“Hey Frank.”

He looks at you as you approach, as does the stranger who offers you a weak smile with sad eyes. You get a lot of sad eyes thrown your way nowadays, from the nurses at the centre to Frank's neighbours who know why you are there and he is not.

“What do you want?” your brother asks, venom lacing each word.

“Just come to say hi, and see if you want a game but it looks like you have company.” you hate how small your voice sounds.

The stranger gets up from the chair and gestures to you to take his place but you shake your head.

“I don’t want you here, I told you that yesterday.” Frank hissed through his teeth, his attention back at the chessboard as his fingers tapped against the plastic chess set, “Go back to fucking around Europe or whatever.”

He had said the same thing yesterday morning, but after a counselling session with Frank's doctors you were told to ignore what he says in anger and to reach out with him daily, if possible, he has to know that his family is with him and that he has the support from them, no matter what.

You were also told to try and prioritise your own mental health when you can, but who has time for that.

So you returned, as you would every day, until he was out of the facility. You would then live with him, supervising visits with him and the children and then get him back to work.

You took care of your family, you had since you were thirteen years old.

“Just thought I would come anyway,” you said cheerfully, “I baked cookies last night and they are chocolate chips, your favourite.” it was a complete lie, you had bought them from the shops and decanted them into tupperware containers last night.

Frank just ignored you and the tupperware you placed on the table, just playing his move and then gesturing for the other man to play on.

But the stranger couldn’t stop staring at you, he was handsome in an older man way with a well kept beard and brown hair that looked like it was due for a trim. Dressed in a hoodie and well worn jeans, he looked like someone you would swipe right on, if you had the time to get back on the apps.

But you didn't and the way he was looking you up and down was unnerving especially as your brother ignores you and wishes to continue with his game.

A lump forms in your throat and you feel panic rising in your chest as you sit there watching your brother continue to ignore you. The stranger kept staring even as it was his turn to play. And you'd just sit there waiting for Frank to say something, do something to acknowledge your existence.

Until you can't take it anymore.

"I guess I'll go, Frank, and I'll see you tomorrow." your words come out stilted and with almost no emotion.

He made a rude gesture with his hand before you grabbed your bag and left.

You're outside the rehabilitation centre before you even know it, and suddenly you wash with emotion. Everything hurts, your body, your head, your heart as you fall to the floor and cry, heaving as the thought of leaving your brother there another day rips into you. He was your Big Brother and you were meant to protect him. That is what you were told since you were a child. And he was the one who was so smart and going to go places and you were nothing but his kid sister.

You couldn't blame Frank for this moment of weakness, of the disease that was ripping through his life, ending his career, his marriage and any relationship he has at the current point with his children. You couldn’t even blame your parents. Your dad for his own alcoholism, your mom for her own absent mindedness, for both of your parents only thinking of the potential of one of their two children. You cannot blame anybody, but you wished you could at that moment.

You are thankful that it was only 11.00am on a weekday. There were little to no people on the streets to witness your breakdown as you let all the emotions out of your body, tears streaming down your face, your mascara completely ruined.

Suddenly a hand grabs onto your shoulder and pulls you out of the mania, your tear filled eyes meet big sad brown eyes.

The stranger had followed you outside.

“I never introduced myself,” he said. His voice was like honey. He pulled a tissue packet from the pocket of his jeans. You blow your nose ungracefully, cringing internally at the noise, "I'm Doctor Michael Robinovich."

He put out his hand to shake yours and you took it, too stunned to say anything else. The Stranger- No- Dr Robinavoch continues to stare, the big brown eyes looking into your soul as you both stand awkwardly outside the rehab center, no one knowing what to say. He then smiles and asks “Do you want to get a cup of coffee?”

#fanfiction #the pitt #dr robinavitch #dr robby #dr robby x reader #dr robby x you #dr robby imagine #the pitt x reader #the pitt fanfiction #dr michael robinavitch

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poisonofthepaint · 19 hours ago

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lucky you

jack calls you in on your day off, which leads to hooking up in the on-call room, which leads to him finding your tattoo.

wc: 2.5k

cw: MDNI, semi-public sex, f!reader, age gap, pinv, oral, lmk if i'm missing anything!

The date you were heading toward was less than exciting. You knew you needed a life outside of the hospital, Dana had given you a wake up call last week. You had been working doubles like it was nothing, but this was your first day off in a while, so you figured you’d download a dating app, get a free dinner on a Friday night. Not that you couldn’t afford dinner, this was more like dinner and a show. Max was a kind guy, but you could tell he didn’t take you seriously— that he underestimated you. So this was your chance to show up a man, and have him pay for your dinner. Win win.

Then, your phone rings. The ringtone that you have set for hospital staff interrupts your music and blares through the speakers. You groan, checking to see who it was. You were surprised to see that it was Jack, you figured since he was agreeing so hard with Dana last week that he would be the last person calling you.

“It’s my day off,” you answer

“I need you here.” Jack sounds out of breath.

“Are you kidding?”

“You know I’m not. Ellis is sick, I thought we could manage but we cannot. I need you here.”

“You’re buying me dinner.” you say, exasperated.

“Gladly,” Jack ends the call.

You know he wouldn’t call you unless it was actually an emergency, Jack wasn’t like that. He wanted to be able to manage. He wanted to be able to handle it by himself. So when he calls you, it’s important. You take off the blue dress you had on, switching it out for a plain white t-shirt before throwing your scrubs on top. You grab the bookbag full of your supplies for shifts and head out of your apartment.

The hospital is only a few blocks from your apartment, so you walk. It’s a bit chilly out; the springtime air blowing through the trees. It looks like it’s gonna storm, and you get to the hospital right before it starts, ducking your head as you walk into the entrance.

The patients are grouchy in the waiting room, all groaning and yelling. The seats must’ve been taken up hours ago, there’s more people standing than sitting. You push your way through the front door.

“Good, you’re here.” Abbot was waiting at the doors like he had timed you. “You’re not supposed to wear perfume here.” he chastises.

“Had already sprayed it when you called me, figured I didn’t have time to shower.”

“Right,” his eyes catch yours and he refuses to look away. “We have a lot of injuries from a car crash. A bunch of guys were speeding on the highway and about six of them were sitting in the open truck bed. A semi driver didn’t see them swerving around and knocked them off the road.”

Jack finally breaks eye contact and walks away, you follow him back into Trauma 1. There’s a young guy, probably around twenty-three, screaming in pain. His hand is holding on by a string, like, literally. It’s barely connected.

“Noah, this is my best resident, she’s gonna take a look at you.” Jack tells him, yelling over the boy’s own screeching.

“I don’t care who she is, fix my fucking hand! I’m on a baseball scholarship!”

“I’m really glad I cancelled my date to be here.” you say, examining his arm.

“You were going on a date?” he says, you think you hear a tinge of jealousy in his voice, but you brush it off.

“Aren’t you the one who told me to go have fun?” Jack doesn’t answer, just goes back to the patient, and you do too.

There are a lot of injuries, some superficial, some very serious. Noah will lose his hand, because he was stupid. You learn that he was the driver of the truck, and that he was drinking. You try to have empathy for all of your patients, but it’s hard when they’re being willingly stupid, and killing their friends. Noah heads up into surgery, and everything is rather stable now. The ED returns to its normal business, waiting for beds upstairs, triaging emergencies from the ambulances.

You sit at your station and chart your patients, trying to remember all that happened in the whirlwind of your arrival. Jack stands right in front of you, charting as well. He looks back once, twice.

“You need something?” you ask, glancing up at him.

“Nah, just making sure you’re good.”

“I am just peachy, although I could use some dinner.” you smile up at him brightly.

He makes a noise that’s somewhere between a scoff and a laugh, “Guess I did promise.”

Jack pulls out his phone, opening DoorDash before handing it over to you. You swipe through the restaurants before you find some Chinese place that catches your eye. You put what you want in the cart before handing his phone back to him.

“Thank you, Dr. Abbot!” you get up from your seat and go to do a round of checkups.

You briefly see him shake his head as he looks down at his phone.

It’s a while before the food gets there, and even longer for the driver to argue with the nurse at triage. Jack finally sees the commotion and goes out and grabs it, apologizing to the nurse.

He calls you over and you grab the food, heading into the breakroom. You sit down and open up the paper brown bag. You think about how your night worked out, you got free dinner and a show anyway. And this was actually a show you quite enjoyed. You did love your job, maybe an unhealthy amount. But you had worked so hard to get here, and you were good at it. You were Abbot’s best resident. You were fast at assessing and scoping out which treatment would be best. You flew around the ED like it was nothing to you.

After a few minutes of eating alone, Jack came to join you, taking what he ordered out of the bag.

“So, what’s wrong with Ellis?” you pry.

“She thinks she has the flu, super high fever and throwing up.”

“Got it, just wanted to make sure this wasn’t all a ploy to get me here on my day off.”

“And if it was?” Jack asks.

You’re stunned for a second before you regain yourself, “Then I would say you’re very unprofessional, and that you’re interfering with my personal life.”

He shrugs– smirks, “You don’t want a healthy work life balance. Plus, we have fun together, don’t we?”

You try not to think about how he can read you; how he’s got you memorized like you’re the back of his hand. “We do.”

You finish your food and throw the empty container in the trash, excusing yourself. You swoop into the on-call room, trying to calm yourself. You rest your back against the door and swipe a hand down your face.

The truth is, you’ve had a crush on Jack since your first day at The Pitt. it was a schoolgirl one at first, you thought he was cute. It was fun to be attracted to your boss; to have a little work crush that you could be excited about. But then, it started getting deeper, Jack paid extra attention to you, he could tell that you actually enjoyed the ED. You were always with him on cases, he picked you for his ‘team’ during busy mass casualties. He got to know you, you got to know him. He was no longer a mysterious crush who you just thought was cute. You liked him, in a way you didn’t want to. It was distracting some days. It was even more distracting when you had a feeling you weren’t being delusional. When you wondered why he called you, a second year resident, instead of one of the seniors, or another attending.

There’s a knock at the door, and you open it, shocked to see Jack standing outside. He walks in and you allow him, moving out of the way so he can lock the door behind him. You can feel your heart in your throat. You sit down on the bed, hoping it’ll stabilize you.

There’s silence; tension you could cut with a knife. He stands with his hands resting on a countertop. The storm rages outside the window, a big crack of thunder rings throughout the room. Jack is just looking, trying to scope you out. He pushes off and approaches you. You swallow, and look down at your feet, trying to avoid eye contact, but Jack isn’t having any of it. He grabs your chin and tilts your head up, forcing you to look at him. He leans down, presses his forehead against yours. He lets his lips ghost yours— just barely.

“Tell me to stop.” he begs, out of breath, just like when he called you.

You place a hand on his neck, fingers threading lightly through the hair at the bottom, “What if I don’t want you to?” He groans, burrows his head into your neck. “I want it, Jack, of course I want it.”

That’s all it takes. His lips are on yours without another beat. The kiss is rough— needy. Your teeth clash against each other, and his tongue explores your mouth. He lays you back onto the bed and your legs open, making room for him. He settles himself and gets to work on your neck, his hand slowly slides up your shirt, resting on your stomach.

He’s still being cautious, you think. You push his hand up and he cups your breast. He makes a strained noise when he feels the lace on your bra.

“You were gonna wear that for him?” Jack asks, right into your ear.

“No, I was wearing it for myself.” an honest answer.

Jack rips your pants off and sees, what he assumes, is the matching thong. The underwear shifts down a bit, and you think Jack is gonna pass out.

Your small tattoo, a mistake from undergrad. A scripture on your hip that reads, ‘lucky you.’

“You’re gonna fucking kill me, kid.” he brushes his thumb over the words. Thinks about them. Doesn’t move for a minute.

“Good thing we’re in an emergency department.”

The nickname sends a wave of arousal through you, just like it always does. It’s how he usually referred to you during emergencies, when you’d catch something that no one else saw. It was how he praised you. You never imagined you’d hear it in this context.

Jack stands up and you whine. He quickly strips off his clothes and is back on you in a second. He rests on his stomach and kisses your tattoo sloppily.

He rips off your underwear with ferocity. You’d be smart to feel a tinge of embarrassment. He is your boss. But you don’t. This feels right, this feels good. He swipes a finger through your folds and you keen.

“So wet for me.” he mumbles.

Jack wastes no more time. His tongue makes quick work on your clit. He moves like he knows you. Like he’s done this a million times, like there’s no room for error. And there isn’t. You both knew this needed to be quick. There were patients outside of the door, and the nurses and other doctors will be wondering where you two went. He works at your clit and you try your hardest to not make any noise. He looks up at you while his tongue is buried in you, and you let out a cry. He reaches a free hand up and covers your mouth. You bite down on it and let your head fall back on the lumpy pillow.

Then, Jack pulls away. “The fuck?” you say it into his hand, so it’s a bit muffled.

“We’ve only got time for one thing. You’re gonna come when I do. Just had to get you ready.” He says.

You want to salute. You want to scream. You don’t really know how this is happening.

Jack pulls off his boxers and you gulp. You see why he needed to get you ready. The length alone was bigger than anything you’ve taken, but he was girthy too.

He pulls a condom out of a drawer in the room. “Did you stash that in here?” you laugh.

“No, they keep them in here. I always wondered why, but now I see.”

He rolls it on quickly and comes back to the bed. He rests on his heels, taking you in. “Are you sure?” Jack asks again.

“I’m positive. I’ve wanted this since I met you.”

He nods slowly, small smile coming to his lips. He moves so his hands are right next to your head. Jack lines himself up with your entrance and sinks in deep.

“Shit,” he mumbles. “So fucking tight.”

“You feel so good,” you cry.

“Yeah? This good for you?” He sets a brutalizing pace, hips never faltering. His head falls into your neck again. “Your perfume is driving me fucking crazy, sweetheart. Could smell you whipping around this hospital. Every time you passed me, I thought I was going to have to take you right there.”

He’s rambling now, you realize. Pussydrunk from how you feel.

“Maybe I’ll have to wear it more, break the rules a bit, if it leads to this.” you say, resisting the urge to moan in the middle of your sentences.

He pants, stifles his own noises. “You’re close,” you say.

“It’s been a while, every time I went on a date, I would just think of you.”

“Is that true?”

“I’m already in your pants, no reason to lie.” his hips start to stutter. “Y’gonna come with me?”

You scope out the feeling in your stomach and focus in on it, Jack brings a hand down between your bodies and starts rubbing your clit. “Fuck, God, yes. Yes, I am.”

The room is filled with heavy breaths, the air has gone thick. You spot a bolt of lightning run through the sky and grab Jack’s head, bringing his ear down to your mouth. “Now,” you whisper.

The thunder hits right as you both finish. It’s loud enough to mask the noises neither of you could hold back. He continues the pace until you come down. You both gasp into each other. Jack slowly pulls out, taking the condom over to the trash can and burying it under some paper towels.

He comes back to the bed and sits on the edge, massaging your shin. “I’m gonna make an assumption and say that was the best sex of your life,” you scoff, but don’t deny it. “But, we have to get back.”

“I know,” you say, wishing you could stay in this room forever. “God, this is really gonna fuck with my work life balance.”

Jack laughs and stands up, placing a kiss on your forehead. “C’mon, lucky girl. We’ll figure it out.”

#jack abbot x reader #dr abbot x reader #the pitt fanfiction #jack abbot smut #jack ⋆⁺₊❅. ㅤ

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pittrabbit · 15 hours ago

Text

warning: angst, fluff, resolution of feelings yay, kissing, a lot of smut, p in v sex, not proofread!!!!, age gap (think 28 and 49), horribly incorrect medical terminology, made up lore about jack's former wife.

summary: after finally snapping at jack, he does something he'd never done before: he grovels. finally allowing himself to let someone in, he chases after you in hopes of doing things right this time around.

word count: 4.3k

part 1

only a few days passed after that last, unfortunate, encounter with you before another harsh day made its way to the ER.

jack couldnt help but worry about you on the harder days at the job. you'd gotten to know each other well enough for you to know each other's coping mechanisms. you knew about his therapy, about his habit of coming in to work when sleep couldn't find him. and in turn, he knew of your loneliness, of your inability to decompartmentalize your emotions after a particularly difficult shift.

this worried him as soon as a massive casualty hit the ER. it had been a car crash. a blunder involving a drunk driver and a truck packed with a family of six. only one survivor — a six year old little girl. it had taken the entire day, with tireless attempts at saving the family, at saving the drunk driver and his passenger, but it was all futile.

you worked along each other, ignoring any issues between you as you attempted to save a young 12 year old boy with head trauma. it was grueling, an impossible case to deal with. and it all proved useless, resulting in the outcome jack saw coming within an hour of working the case. but he continued upon your insistence, realizing you were crashing out and wanting to be there to catch you.

after it was all said and done, he trailed after you, watching from afar just in case. he wanted to ensure you were fine, even if it was from a distance.

it was a selfish need, but he seemingly couldn't help his selfishness when it came to you.

it was surprising to him when you accepted princess' invitation to join the crew in some after-work drinks at the park. it meant he no longer had to keep his distance. it meant he could at least save himself from worrying about your mental state as you went home alone, that he could make sure you could decompress before heading home.

and so now he sat there, beer in hand as he actively avoided looking your way.

he didn't want to be obvious, didn't want to make you uncomfortable or like he kept you under close watch. he had already been scared that you'd leave as soon as you realized he was tagging along. so he wanted to keep his distance, or to at least make you think that he was.

one by one, people began leaving, all while you stood there, mostly quietly nodding along to people's jokes and commentary about the hard day.

in the end, it was only you, jack, robby, and collins left. the more people that left, the harder it was for jack to not zero in on you, to not want to go up to you and grovel, to take the chance that you were finally in his vicinity to make things up with you.

robby — a smart man — and collins — an even smarter woman — took his silent pleas into consideration, eyeing each other before getting up from the bench they were sharing with jack. collins went to give you a quick hug as a goodbye, insisting you take her seat on the bench. knowing you'd hesitate, she guided you despite your lighthearted objections.

robby was the last to say goodbye, offering his friend a subtle nod in encouragement before leaving you on your own.

the silence was heavy, creating warmth in the otherwise chilly atmosphere of the park.

jack remained silent for a few moments, still facing forward as he sipped at his beer.

"kid," he broke the silence, giving you space to speak.

"can we ... can we not talk? i just, i don't know if i can handle talking to you right now," your voice was broken as you said it.

it made jack's heart clench, in pain at the fact that today's events weren't the only reason why you were hurting. it was because of him too.

his body turned to yours on the bench, finding you shelled off, shrinking into yourself as your legs pressed together and you looked down at your lap. it took him a moment to realize you were crying, small sniffles leaving you before a sob escaped your lips.

"fuck, kid ... c'mere," he grabbed his leg off the bench, scooting to your side and wrapping his arm around you.

surprisingly to him, you leaned in, allowing yourself to nuzzle into his chest while he pressed kisses against your hair, humming in a comforting manner as he remained pressed into your hair.

"i- i don't-"

"you don't gotta say anything. just stay here," he reassured, "i'm here, kid. i'm always here."

you stayed silent for a beat or two, "are you, jack? because it really hasn't felt like it lately," you pulled away just enough to look up into his eyes, finding them glassy just like yours.

his gaze averted, swallowing as he attempted not to let the shame show in his features. thing was, you had a point. jack was very well aware of how hot and cold he'd been with you, how little explanation he'd given you for it.

and though he'd been trying to make up for it, he had felt too ashamed to even try and be assertive about it all. communication, something he valued incredibly (specially after all those visits to his therapist), had failed him any time he tried to let himself get closer to you. he felt like a hypocrite telling robby all about therapy and letting himself be vulnerable, all while he did anything but.

truth was, it had been a very long time since he'd felt like this. it had been twelve years since the passing of his wife, an event that had altered his life beyond belief. it had only been a year since he'd stopped wearing the ring to work, advice given with some hesitation by both his therapist and robby. something about needing to move on, to stop being stuck in the past.

it didn't prove useful for a while. it certainly opened up doors for women flirting with him any time he found himself at a bar or outing with his coworkers, but he never really engaged with it, not feeling quite ready for it.

but then he met you.

the effect of meeting you had been almost immediate, he just hadn't realized it until later. and it was this realization that led to him ruining everything.

he cared about you far too much far too quickly. when he finally came to realize it, he knew he was in too deep and completely unprepared for his feelings. attempting to bring it up during therapy had been futile, as he had already made up his mind to let you go, to keep you at an arm's length even if it ended up hurting you both in the process.

you were too young, too new, too polished — and that was completely ignoring the fact that you were his subordinate. being with him would mean dirtying you up with all his issues, forcing all of his trauma on you, showing you the ugly parts of himself that had not seen the surface since his wife had passed. and even then, he'd only gotten worse with time, even more closed off. even his wife wouldnt have been able to handle the dark cloud constantly hanging over his head.

he kept it hidden. he told jokes, encouraged students, was there for his friends, but beneath the surface was too much for him to unravel in front of you.

but pushing you away clearly hadn't been the solution.

because now he found himself even more miserable than before. and even worse, he found you destroyed by his actions, crying as he held on to you late at night on a public park.

"i'm here, kid. i'm always here, you know that," he finally answered your question, pulling you even closer, perhaps more for his own sanity than yours.

you continued looking at him, a knot in your brows and a pouty lip sticking out, giving him the look of a petulant child.

"you can't do this, jack," you shook your head, correcting yourself, "i mean, doctor abbot. sorry, force of habit."

he shook his head slowly in return, lifting up a hand to your cheek and making you turn to him, "hey, it's jack to you, okay? none of that formality bullshit."

you scoffed, "how- how am i supposed to read you, jack? how do i know when you're doctor abbot to me or when you're jack? i'm ... i'm so tired of this. i don't think i can do this anymore," you paused, scooting back slightly so you could look at him better. you swallowed and looked away for a brief moment, as if you needed to build up the courage for what you were going to say next, "i applied at a hospital next town over to continue my rotation there. they, uhm, they called me yesterday. i just need to sign the papers and then-"

"what?"

he turned serious, harshly grabbing his prosthetic off the floor and putting it on before standing up with conviction. chuckling with bitterness, he ran his hand down his face, turning to you as he paced in front of the bench you'd been sitting on.

"you're, what, you're leaving? its- it's that easy for you?"

then you turned serious, anger invading your features before you got up and stood in front of him, chin tilted upwards as you spoke.

"easy? you think this shit is easy for me? i've been here for almost a year. i love everyone here, but you- god, you're driving me fucking insane. what do you even want from me?," you ranted, hands flying up and down as you spoke with conviction, "first you teach me, you take me under your wing, you treat me as your favorite, and you- you make me think that maybe you might even like me" you paused, looking away for a second with insecurity behind your eyes, "but you were too much of a coward to admit it to yourself and decide to shun me instead? you push me away, refuse to teach me, fuck, you acted like you hated me — no, but here's the kicker! when i do the same in return, that's when you decide to switch it back up on me? what am i supposed to do with that, jack? i can't deal with this anymore, i can't-"

jack had heard enough. truly, he had heard enough five seconds into your rant, but he'd never seen you speak with such emotion. he knew you needed this, to get all your anger for him out of your system so you could complete the cycle of emotions you were going through because of him.

it was just that he needed to get something out of his system too.

taking two determined steps towards you, his hands went up to your cheeks, engulfing almost the entirety of your face in between them before pulling you towards him.

kissing you had been the most decisive thing he'd done since meeting you. no overthinking, no faltering, just doing what he'd been too ashamed of even picturing for the past months in which he'd known you.

the kiss turned intense almost immediately, invading his every sense as he coaxed your lips open with his tongue before slipping it inside. you sighed, finally allowing him to feel your hands on him when you brought them up tot he back of his head, toying and pulling at his hair any time he'd suck on your tongue.

the sounds you released against his lips had him breathing in deep, almost as if buffering at the effect you had on him. his hands came down to your lower back, pulling you against his body, ensuring no space would be left between you.

admittedly, jack was not expecting you to pull away within mere moments of what he would've called a life-changing kiss. his lips chased yours for a few seconds before realizing what was happening, opening his eyes to find your eyes on his.

"n-no, jack! i can't do this, i can't just- i need something better than this. i deserve better," you reprimanded, but you didn't pull away. you stayed in his hold, with your hands now lying on his chest.

jack took a deep breath, giving himself a moment to enjoy the light breeze around you before zeroing in on your eyes. it was imperative to him to always look you in the eyes, to have his entire focus on you as he spoke to you.

"you're right. you deserve better," his hands went up and down your back in a comforting manner, "and i'll give you better. i'll give you anything you want."

"how am i supposed to believe that?"

you looked away, staring down at your feet due to the intensity of his gaze, but he wasn't having it. his hand went up to your chin, encompassing it between his thumb and his index finger as he lifted up your chin so you'd face him again.

"hey- hey, eyes on me. i- i cant explain what i feel for you, okay? i've been a fucking idiot, and i know i don't deserve another chance, but i do care about you. more than i can even understand," he began, not once leaving your eyes, "i did this all wrong. i didn't want you wasting your life with an old man like me, with someone who doesn't even know how to love anymore," his hand went up to trace your cheek with his thumb, "but i was wrong. and if you let me, i'll prove it all to you. what do you say, kid? will you give me another chance?", he practically pleaded, taking a deep breath before speaking again, "i love you, kid. i need you to at least know that."

you stayed silent for a few moments, scaring the fuck out of jack as you did so, but then you looked back up to him with a smile.

"you know, if we're gonna do this, maybe it's time you stop calling me kid, you old man," you nodded at him.

in disbelief, he laughed, shaking his head at you, "yeah? that's all you got out of this?," he laughed unlike he usually did, with jubilation that was unfamiliar to him, "hmm, how about 'baby,' then? huh? or 'honey'? 'sweetheart'? you gotta give me ideas here, kid. i don't know what the youth's saying nowadays."

laughing along with him, you nudged him in faux annoyance, "stop talking like that, you're not 70!"

he interrupted your teasing by burying his face in your neck, kissing it lightly a few times before reaching your lips, shutting up your laughter with his tongue in your mouth.

you fell into the kiss easily, moaning into his mouth when he deepened it and pulling him closer by twisting your fingers in his hair.

"hmm," you hummed when you pulled away, "i love you too, by the way. in case that wasn't completely obvious by now."

"i think i might need some proof, kid," he teased.

rolling your eyes, you scoffed, "again with the kid-"

but he interrupted you again with another kiss, this time heavier, this time more lustful. his hands traced your jaw, holding it in place so he could explore your mouth as he pleased.

your reaction to his touch, to his kiss, were nothing but euphoric to jack. you melted into him, humming and sighing at every swipe of his tongue against yours. jack pulled you closer by your hips, causing an incidental grace of your hips with one another. this pulled a groan from jack, who was already beginning to harden and knew he was a gone man upon the very first touch of lips.

"kid, i-"

"take me home, jack," you sighed, eyes closed and lips scraping by his own, not allowing him an answer before your tongue snuck out and licked at his top lip, sucking it lightly afterwards.

jack lost his sanity then, but he was fortunately well trained for such moments. he had a soldier's ability to remain stoic whenever necessary.

but the military didn't train him for how to deal with you.

so he caved.

"are you sure?", he tried to keep his composure, to think reasonably for the two of you.

your lips went south, reaching his jaw and then his neck as you kissed and sucked at it, moaning into his skin as if you were the receiver of the pleasure.

"please, jack," you reached his ear then, teeth scrapping his lobe, "i've been waiting for so long."

for the first time in more years than he could count, jack shuddered, a heavy exhale leaving him at your tongue suddenly licking at the shell of his ear. his hands gripped your hips, pushing you up against the hardness between you as he groaned.

"you want to kill me," he huffed, giving in.

"take me home so i can finish the job," you continued, relentless in ruining him.

he nodded, breathless, utilizing herculean effort to separate himself from you and grabbing your hand, leading you in the direction of his car parked a couple blocks away.

once in the car, you didn't want to keep your hands off him, pulling him in for another kiss before he could even fasten his seatbelt.

"you're going to make us end back at the ER, honey," he grumbled between kisses, hand on your wrist as you pulled his head towards you.

"fine, i'll calm down," you sighed dramatically as you pulled away (much to jack's hypocritical dismay)

౨ৎ

"you know, i always pegged you as someone a someone a little more shy," jack attempted to speak as you pushed him up against the wall of his apartment.

"yeah? you feel i'm taking advantage of you, doc?", you jested back, a cheshire cat smile on your slips as you had your way with him.

jack's hands remained on your waist, pulling you close while you peppered kisses down the length of his neck. they reached under your scrub top, feeling the warm skin at the dip of your back, groaning at the softness found there.

"take as much advantage as you want," he hummed after a few moments of silence, just taking in every touch you blessed him with.

your mouth creeped north reaching his ear, hands now under his shirt and tracing at the skin of his abdomen. breathing against his ear, you kissed it, whispering into it, "but what if i want you to take advantage of me?"

"fuck, kid ... you're going to kill me," but despite his words, his hands wrapped around you, nudging you up so you could wrap your legs around his waist.

it was a bit of a messy trek, but you made it to his bed in one piece, being settled down on it with gentleness. refusing to let jack get too far from you, your legs remained around him as he threw off his shirt, hastening in removing his prosthetic, shoes, pants, and leaving only his boxers on. he watched you intensely as he undressed, all while you made sex eyes at him, biting your lip and swallowing at every new sliver of skin uncovered.

"you look like you want to eat me," he chuckled, climbing the bed and kneeling on top of you, using his hands to lift himself up above you.

"there's a lot of things i want to do to you," you sighed back, lifting your head so you could steal a kiss, pulling him down by grabbing the back of his neck.

desperate for more, your legs fully wrapped around his back, pulling him down so your middles could connect. this earned a groan directly into your mouth along with a whine of your own. luckily jack took the hint, beginning to gyrate his hips against your own, giving you the desired friction despite your scrub pants and his boxers being in the way.

"oh, god, jack ..." you sighed, mouth open and allowing jack access to suck your tongue.

your hands became antsy, scratching at his back in anguish at the pressure you were craving in your stomach. meanwhile, his own hands slipped under your shirt once more, hesitant in pulling it up before you aided him in the act, lifting yourself up a bit in order to throw it off.

under it, he found a lacy bra, baby pink and contrasting against your skin perfectly. it was comfy, not too much, but it had a cute little bow in the middle, giving jack whiplash as he stared down at you dumbfounded.

"fuck, kid," he shook his head in disbelief, "i dont know if i can handle you," his lips lowered, kissing at your collarbones, dragging his kisses to your sternum and ending up at the top of your breasts.

"what, old man, you're gonna tell me you're out of practice?", you teased as you reached behind you to pull your bra off, making jack freeze against your chest for a second before allowing himself to look at your nude upper half.

"you're a fucking dream, kid," he huffed, voice in a complete state of incredulity. he then leaned down again, kissing at your breasts, licking and biting and sucking, taking in every moan that left your lips while his hips took on a slow and steady pace as they ground into yours, "don't even know where to start with you."

"just fuck me," you cried, pulling his head back up to your lips, "i want you so bad, jack."

he groaned at this, but even more so when he felt your hand reach down to his boxers, one hand slipping inside and gripping his dick while the other scratched at the hem, pulling down the fabric.

"you sure, baby?" he had to check one last time, though he knew he wouldnt be able to take it if you made him stop now. he had never felt this needy, like he'd die if he didnt get more of you.

you nodded with desperation, furrowed brows and pleading eyes staring up at him in a ruinous manner.

shuffling so you could remove your scrub pants and panties from under him, you finally ended up fully nude and ready, gasping when you felt his fingers run through the wetness between your legs.

jack grabbed at himself, positioning his dick right against your cunt and finally pushing in with a heavy grown.

dropping his head against your neck, he took a deep breath, groaning at the feeling of finally entering you.

"jack ... fuck, jack, you feel so good," you were delirious as you said it, nails already running down his back.

in the meantime, jack was in heaven. he hadnt felt so lightheaded in years. your mere touch already had his heart going a mile a minute and his brain turning off, but the feeling of you like this — warm, wet, welcoming — made every bit of misery in his life become worth it.

"fucking perfect ... that's it, baby, take it for me," he began moving, hips creating that slamming sound of skin that he'd grown so unfamiliar with.

the man above you lost himself in the pleasure, grunting in tandem with every thrust and wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you as close to him as possible, breathing in the natural scent of your skin.

and even though the pleasure was unimaginable, jack simply wanted more, wanted to have you louder, more broken for him. he'd always been a bit of an overachiever, after all.

softly, he pulled out, shushing you when you whined at the separation and getting you on your hands and knees. his hands massaged the skin of your hips, dipping your back lower so you'd arch it even more for him and groaning at the sight.

"look at you ..." he mumbled almost to himself.

then he entered you again, now deeper, heavier, adding more pressure to your belly and making you immediately wail at the feeling. that's when jack truly lost himself. completely drunk on the feeling, jack hammered into you, huffing and puffing at the overexertion of energy he was currently displaying.

"i'm gonna cum, jack, shit ..." you said with an uncharted desperation, only making jack speed up, knowing that the moment you came, he was gone.

and he'd been right. as soon as your climax took over you, you pulled him right down with you, forcing him to spill inside you without the ability to even warn you. you'd taken him by surprise as per usual.

there were, once more, complaints from you when he finally pulled out of you, leaving the warmth of your skin to clean himself up and wipe up any of his remains that spilled out of you. he just tutted at you, but still hurried himself up so he could finally lay down with you, have that intimacy he'd craved from you since day one.

side by side, jack felt offended by any amount of distance, pulling you as close as possible while his hands traced at the curve of your hips, grabbing your leg and throwing him over his waist so any distance would be eliminated. your hands played with his chest, fingers tracing figures at the expanse of it while you smiled shyly at him.

"how you feeling, gorgeous?"

you muffled a giggle by pressing your face into his chest, kissing the skin once, twice, before leaning up for a kiss on his lips.

"better than i've felt in a very long time. how about you, old man?", you hummed into his lips.

"never felt better."

"you just had to one-up me, didn't you?" you scowled falsely at him.

he tsk'd at you in fake annoyance, a very common display from him, "gotta keep you on your toes, kid."

note: did not know how to end it lol and its also not proofread but i hope you enjoy anyways!

#the pitt x reader #the pitt #the pitt smut #dr jack abbot #jack abbot #jack abbott #dr jack abbott x reader #dr jack abbott smut #jack abbot x reader #jack abbott x reader #dr jack abbott #dr jack abbot x reader #jack abbott smut #jack abbot smut #jack abbot x you #jack abbott x you #jack abbot fanfic #jack abbott fanfic

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lbjeff · 1 day ago

Text

Then the Bats realize Davey who can use his words is more terrifying than when he not.

In the past he only terror people by dying in the most horrible ways. Now Davey torture them with BOTH his murdered body and his words

For examples

Flash: Wow, I hear that your child, Davey can talk now! Congratulations, B!

Davey, whom Flash didn’t see that he also there, appears behind him: Do you know what could happen to speeder when he trips on a rock? Their bones may be break though their skin, especially the knees

Then Davey chances his bones to make them peaks out of his skin.

Flash, hear the clack of bones and turn his face back like a classic horror movie character: Ahhhhhhhh!

But Flash doesn’t run cause he fear he would tripping latter

P/s: Flash Kid doesn’t believe him so he invite Davey to his house to prove his point. He would regret it latter

Or:

Hal just got back from his space mission and is talking about an alien he had met, who he had a quick fling with but broke up cause she wanted kids immediately. Davey happened to appear at Tower that day. This time Superman is doing the babysitting for Lois so he brings Davey along

Hal: In her planet, the woman is super hot while the male looks like slime in video games. It kinda weird

Davey: I see them before, in Clark’s files on endangered aliens at Solitude Fortress

Hal, still a little scared from the last time they met but is surprise that Davey could talk in sentence now: Wow, good job kid. What do you know about them?

Davey: They reproduce by the female put the eggs into the male’s body by kissing, then the eggs get bigger until it break the male’s stomach. That is the reason the female often look attractive based on universal standers while the male looks like slime. This way, the male mainly could find mate in their planet when the female could find mate in other planets

Hal, now a little afraid: Woah, your memory is good

Davey ignores him: If the female reproduce with other species, the eggs will break the father’s belly and may kill them in process. Like this.

Then Davey’s belly gets bigger and then bom, like the flesh bomb and cover everybody in blood and organs. It happens so fast so it take everyone a whole minute to processing what was happening

Davey, with his head lands on a table: And the time for eggs to hatch is maximum 1 month

Hal: OMG! That is the reason she gave me a funny look when I say see her next month and kissed her good bye

Davey: And the things that similar with their abortion drug is human’s liver. You are welcome!

Hal: No, I rather die than eating a humen liver! Batman, do something or I would die because I refused to eat your kid’s liver

Batman: Calm down, Hal. If it has similar structures with human’s liver then I would make make one for you, artificial one. And Davey, I believe Lois has talked to you about blood on people and furnitures

Davey: Sowey

Then he regains his human forms, claps his hands, open his sharpened fangs monstrous mouth and all the blood, organs “come back” to his body, through his mouth. (He does it for a show, the bloods on clothes and ground just disappeared). He didn’t take back the liver

Davey: You can keep it

P/s:

Clark: B, as you can see, Davey could talk pretty well now so you may take him home soon. Like today

Bruce: Well, I promise him to stay with Lois for a weekend. And he still didn’t say sorry right so guess I still need Lois’s help

Clark: Lois thinks he’s cute when he says his “sowey” so she hasn’t fixed him yet

Bruce: Fair enough. I would send Damian to your house to have a play date with Jon, he will help take care of Davey

Clark: Why do you think send another child to my house would solve things? And don’t pretend you don’t do it because you just has a fight with Robin and need to get him somewhere out of Gotham

Bruce: And Mr.Wayne will make time for journalists Kents for a special interview about his new kid

Clark: Well, I alway happy to help you to mentor your kids, especially Davey and Damian

Hal: Hey guy, I still need my “special” medicine

Bruce: Well, good for your health, you are not pregnant. Their specie only impregnate other species by sex, not just kissing like their own specie

Hal: Well, Not good to say, I still need those medicine

In galas that Bruce and Tim bring Davey along, to make him “socialize” more (it is Bruce’s idea)

Davey is chilling in his conner. A creep come near him to be “friendly” with Wayne’s kid

Creep: You are Davey Wayne, right? Well, everyone had thought your fist appeare in Gotham elite’s world would be your welcome gala. Guess Bruce isn’t paying attention to his strays like he did in the past

Davey looks at him, slowly change his lips into a “lunatic horror creature’s smile”, his pupils go wider until his eyes are two void black holes with green mist pour out and wandering around him.

Davey: And you will die in the basement in your house, the near lake one where you buried your hobbies. Being tearing apart by the “beasts” you keep

The creep too scared that he frozen in his place. And Davey chances to another conner to chilling and wait to terror another creep

Later that creep, fears of Davey’s words being true, planed to “erase” the guy he keeps to guard his “have fun” house. But he was killed by being chopped into pieces by those guys. Then he being burned alive in the lake house where he did tortured and buried his “ex hobbies”

And the Bats know about it after Batman do the investigation on a creep’s missing case

Tim: I said we should not break up Davey and Cocomelon. Now see what happens when Davey recovers his attention span

Dick: In his defense, he only said some words, the rest can’t be blame on him

Damian: Davey doesn’t need to be defended. He is just proving his crime solving talent, by killing the criminals before they could do more crime, with just his words

Bruce: That should not be encouraging!

Jason: What? Davey is just doing his innocent child thing and saying some “innocent talk”, everything happened to those creeps were because they were cowards

Bruce: They have been murdered

Jason: Yes, just like their victims

Davey Speaks

Davey: *hovering over the bed* Father. What is my purpose?

Bruce: *just woke up from a 15-minute nap after 48 hours of work and is sure he is hallucinating* What?

Davey: Why do I exist?

****

Davey: Candy! Candy!

Duke: You can get an apple.

Davey: Do you think this is a game? Candy. I want Candy.

Duke: What the fuck? You can talk?

Davey: No one will believe you.

****

Davey: Cookie!

Alfred: Master David, please refrain from shouting when you want something. Ask properly.

Davey: May I have a cookie?

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cal-daisies-and-briars · 2 days ago

Text

New Fic: Exhibit B

Despite a million microscope emojis awaiting me, I have finished. Enjoy!!!

Summary:

Seven years in the future, an adult Christopher has a chance to see his grandparents - and subsequently, his father - in a new light, on a family trip to El Paso.

Snippet:

A few weeks before they’re set to fly to El Paso, he catches his dad searching for hotels.

“You don’t need a hotel,” Chris tells him.

“Well, I’ve already left it to the last minute,” Dad replies.

“No,” Chris says. “Grandma and Grandpa already said we can all stay with them.”

Dad snorts. “Well, that’s not happening.”

“Why not?” Chris asks.

“The six of us under one roof is a bad idea,” Dad explains.

“Well, I want to stay with them,” Chris says. He hopes this will sway Dad.

“You’re more than welcome to, bud. Your brother, Buck, and I will be at the Marriott.”

Chris frowns. “Really, Dad?”

---

Tagging:

@epicbuddieficrecs @theotherbuckley @sevenweeksofunrepression @slowlyfoggydestiny @goldenbcnes

@diazsdimples @exhuastedpigeon @aquamarineglitter @loserdiaz @steadfastsaturnsrings

@your-catfish-friend @incorrect9-1-1 @hawaiianlove808 @babytrapperdiaz @watchyourbuck

@lyricfulloflight @tizniz @aroeddiediaz @estheticpotaeto @buckleybabyblues

@buddieswhvre @l0v3t0hat3y0u @mage8 @theautumnbard @lightningmcqueer28

@kultiras @inell @mrs-f-darcy @spencers1nonlygf @nibblyssacrifice

@thetommoway-oioii @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @whatwouldeddiedo @lilmizmoz @sazanahashi

@jacobglaser @buckslasagna @ginnygigglesblog

As always, let me know if you'd like to be added to my writing updates tags :)

#daisies and briars writes #911 fanfic #911 fic #911 #christopher diaz #evan buckley #eddie diaz

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revivemyreverie · 14 hours ago

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SKETCH SSR: WISHMASTER’S CONCERT

CREDITS: Wishmaster's Concert Event : @tixdixl, Cyril Zeman (mentioned in story): @ramshacklerumble. I consider following both of them if you haven't already!!!

This event is crazy fun and I cannot believe I finished in under 3 days. anyhow! A short story is under read more :)

Groovification: Such frivolities–this kind voice, warm smile, and upturned brows– none of it has ever been real.

Set to Home Screen: Would you like to hear a tune?

Home Transition 1: Are we moving stages? I’ll follow as you desire.

Home Transition 2: My past self would “love” being here, I’m sure. Even if I no longer hold the emotions that came with those memories, the knowledge of how many times he used this violin is logical proof.

Home Transition: 3: These light choices are quite interesting. You usually expect something more refined when it comes to violin performances, but I suppose the inclusion of guitars and death metal muddles that.

Home, after Login: Ashengrotto said this event is in the best interest for both of us, but I am very sure I heard him saying he’s finally rid of me the other day… Is that what you refer to as “disdain"?

Tap Home 1: These clothes are not very optimal, since I cannot move much except the sleeves. I do not mind any of it, however, since I can still make quick movements with my bowstring.

Tap Home 2: I’ve heard it's good to deviate music choices every once in a while for experience, so perhaps adding a few songs into my usual classical music may be good for me.

Tap Home 3: I try to avoid bumping into my bandmates when on stage, as it would be rather terrible if my magic activated mid-performance... A husk might end up singing on stage instead of a person.

Tap Home 4: I’m quite shocked by the people who enjoyed my performance, seeing that I had failed to remember to smile. Those in the crowd even said I looked mysterious. Emotions are such an odd thing.

Tap Home 5: Logically, none of this really matters. All these people do is sit through a bunch of flashy lights while listening to sounds mixed and mashed together through ear-damaging speakers. Still, I partake in it, for I want to understand the past “me”’s love for it.

🎙️.

“I don’t care if it's to show off the school’s music prowess! My Abyssal Lover will not be working with the jerk that broke the head singer's and his boyfriend up!”

Such is the common complaint Allegra has been facing as of late by the head-singer of a little band made in Night Raven College, who the former had the delight of joining thanks to his dorm leader’s so-called recommendation (it was forced, but Allegra's not allowed to sa a word on it).

In his eyes, he had done nothing of what he had been accused of. All Allegra Mahalath had done was help a client and pull a little bit of an emotional possession with his magic. How was it his fault if he revealed that someone was having second thoughts about their relationship? Logically speaking, the singer should have just discussed this nonsensical problem from the get-go.

He might get a punch for such words, however, so the man stayed silent with his usual smile. Their manager spoke in his place, “YOU’RE the one who said anyone would do for our sick violinist, and I’m already in good-standing with Azul! I’m just taking advantage of the situation, so how about you get over yourself and move on?! Do you really want to throw away the chance to impress THE Cyril Zeman?!!”

The Octavinelle student watched his new nemesis remain silent.

“Then stop complaining and start rehearsing! And Allegra,I know you’re good at the violin, but our set also has some more... dramatic... parts in it. Please try your best.”

The therapist kept his demeanor the same. “As you wish, manager.”

—-----

The singer wondered if Allegra had a best to begin with, or was just trying to piss him off. He was awful at acting entirely, his motions being so stiff and short that he looked like a robot compared to the whisking twirls and light steps everyone else had managed to do. His only saving grace was his violin, which somehow made Allegra look far more graceful than the mannequin he turned into when he wasn't playing.

“If you can't bother to dance right, then how about taking off that tacky customer-service smile?” He complained after their 5th rehearsal and failure of an act.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Allegra speaks like one of Ignihyde's new robots. “but if it’s not up to par, I’ll change it.”

“Are you a human? I meant to use your real smile.”

Allegra pokes at his own cheeks, “But this is my real smile? It’s the same one I use everyday, even for my clients. I thought you would understand, seeing as you even had a previous session with me–”

The last sentence seemed to have switched something in the young man. With a aggressive yell, he gets up and grabs the spiral-eyed student's shirt

“Say a thing about my stupid session from that day and I’ll break your nose!"

The other band members ran between them, splitting the two apart to avoid a big fight. The singer clicked his tongue in return, turning to the classroom's door.

“I need a damn break.”

Allegra watched as he walked out, his temporary band mates surrounding him. A silence filled the room, yet the smile on his face remained sweet as always.

—-------

“Do you have an issue with me?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

The vocalist and violinist sat alone in the makeup room, their group having already departed for set preparations and to avoid the ever-growing storm between the two students.

“You’ve shown a great amount of physical hostility towards me.” Allegra spoke with such niceties, “I would love to know why.”

“Oh I’m sure you would.” Sarcasm came up like vomit. “You’re an ass who ruined my goddamn love life, and now I’m expected to work with you and your weirdo facade.”

“Facade?”

The vocalist slammed his hands on the table, tired of dealing with him for the past 3 weeks. “Yes! Facade! You think everyone just takes your little goody-two-shoes employee act as fact? Everyone in the band knows it's all either a cover for you being a creep or that you just hate everyone in the world!”

Allegra turned away from him, looking outside the door’s window. “I don’t hate anyone.”

“Cut the crap! That’s a lie itself!”

“Would you like to hear the truth about me then?” Allegra says, his voice suddenly ice cold.

He turns back to the lead-singer, his face lacking all signs of emotion.

“Such frivolities–this kind voice, warm smile, and upturned brows– none of it has ever been real.”

This is the true Allegra Mahalath, the one who put no effort into any relationships he was expected to care for. The vocalist looked into those empty, spiraling eyes, which grow closer with every step the brunette takes towards him.

“You’re correct, as I am simply playing the part of a false me. In my eyes, anything and everything holds no meaning; Allegra Mahalath doesn’t care for this event, nor its people, or its problems. The same can be said for my clients and their relationships, especially yours." He stated it all so matter-of-factly, as if there truly was nothing inside his heart. "It's most fitting to say that I can't seem to care about anything.”

A shiver ran down the singer’s spine. “...Then why are you even here?"

“Because I want to understand why the past ‘me’ did.”

The announcer’s voice could be heard through the loudspeaker, cutting off their confrontation with the calling of their band's name.

"Next up, from the dark corners of Night Raven College itself, is My Abyssal Lover!"

Allegra’s monotone demeanor remained as cheers could be heard echoing from the crowd. “It’s officially stage time, I kindly suggest you hurry up.”

—-----

“Look! We got put in the event’s article!” The team’s manager exclaimed, showing off his phone to the group. “They even got a photo of you, Mahalath!”

The brunette takes a look at the article presented in front of him, reading the text with a feigned interest.

“Oh. Oops.”

“Huh? What’s wrong?”

“It appears I forgot to smile during the set.”

For the rest of the band, it seemed like a well-timed joke. They laughed at another one of Allegra's supposed oddities. Only the vocalist remained silent in the classroom’s corner, understanding exactly what the Octavinelle student meant.

#“why is it called sketch its obvs refined”#there is a lack. of usual rev care #so #sketch.#twisted wonderland #twst oc #twisted wonderland oc #twst fanevent #Wishmaster's Concert #twst #allegra mahalath

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dcxdpdabbles · 3 days ago

Note

Can you please tell some dcxdp fanfics on ao3 . It's tagging system is confusing me.

It can be with or without relationships .

Thank you .

You bet!

Now, I will be honest: recently, I've been really into HP fan fiction and online comics, so I haven't read any of the newest Ao3 fics. I'll the ones I think about a lot for you.

If you like, I can also explain how the tagging system works in a separate post. (I've been on that site since I was fourteen, and I'm still learning new features.)

1.Vertical Limit by hppjmxrgosg

Romantic Potential Tim/Danny (Dead Tired)

Danny gets accidentally summoned by the Justice League and uses this chance to get their support for Ghost rights, but he is struggling with depression and his own issues.

2. Wait, I'm a what? by Atiya_Blackcharm

Gen fic

Danny is thrown into Gotham by Clockwork. While surviving, he makes choices that convince people he's a gang leader, and he is unaware that everyone is convinced he is one.

3.Wanted: Dead and Alive by Astereae

Romantic Tim/Danny (Dead Tired)

Warnings for this one: This is Dead Dove: Do Not Eat (on Ao3 this means that the author intended to make the fic dark, and don't be surprised when it turns out to actually be dark) Transphobia, Hurt/Slight comfort, Torture, Medical emergency done on screen, slight gore,

Danny gets kidnapped by the Guys in White, is torn apart in the name of "science," and escapes after he is cut open and runs into Tim. Tim helps him out by snitching him up after pushing back his guts inside his body and then loses Danny when he runs again. It's a mystery from the Bat's pov, who are trying to figure out the string of kidnappings.

4. The curious case of D. Grayson by brothebro

Romantic ships: Danny/Sam/Tucker (everlasting trio),

This is a recent fiction someone recommended to me. Basically, Danny and Dick are twins, but neither they nor the Waynes know it. So when Danny gets a job at Wayne Enterprise using his birth name (He changed it from Fenton back to Grayson), they all think it's Dick that got secretly married.

5.GLXY:PSSNGR by socraticat

Roamtic ships: Danny/Tim (Dead tired)

Warnings: Implied/reference child abuse

Danny wakes up one day to find that he has taken over the body of a version of himself in a parallel world where he's Vlad Master's kid after his parents' death. Danny attempts to get home without letting anyone know he's not this world's Danny. He accidentally catches the eye of his classmate Tim Drake, who thinks Danny is acting odd.

#dcxdpdabbles #mun speaks #Ao3 fic rec #Please feel free to add more!

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swiftiethatlovesf1 · 2 days ago

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Why You So Obsessed with Me? p2

Heyy guys, I hope you enjoy this Carlos x reader based on the song: Obsessed– Mariah Carey, if you haven't read part 1 here it is:)

If you want to read more stories of mine here's my masterlist.

It was your birthday.

The first thing you saw when you walked into the living room — barely awake, your silk robe tied messily around your waist — was a massive bouquet of red roses sitting on your kitchen counter.

You blinked. Once. Twice. Then walked over cautiously.

Deep crimson petals. Thornless stems. The air smelled like lust and danger.

No card. No name. Just a tiny tag tucked between the roses. A message scribbled in dark ink:

“Feliz cumpleaños, preciosa.”

(Happy birthday, beautiful)

Your stomach turned.

You knew exactly who sent them.

Of course he didn’t sign it. He wanted you to know without telling you. That was his game — always hovering in the shadows, always watching, never fully there but never really gone.

You scoffed, pushing the flowers to the side. You weren’t going to let him ruin today.

Not on your birthday.

You spent the rest of the day preparing for your party — choosing the perfect dress, fixing the playlist, triple-checking the drinks, ignoring every text with Spanish flags or Ferrari logos. Your friends started showing up around nine. The music was loud, the bar warm with laughter and dancing, and you were the center of it all — glowing, golden, untouchable.

But in the back of your mind… you were waiting.

You kept half-expecting him to materialize in a shadowy corner of your living room or appear on the rooftop, leaning against the railing like he owned the sky. But he didn’t.

Carlos Sainz was nowhere.

And to your own surprise — you were relieved. You let yourself relax. Laugh. Breathe.

By midnight, you were tipsy and high on attention, dancing like you didn’t care who was watching. You let some random guy spin you around, hands on your waist. He was cute. Normal. He bought you a drink. Told you you were beautiful. Said he’d walk you home.

But there was no way you would go home with him.

He was drunk. Slurring. A little too eager.

"I’ll make sure you get home safe," he said, hand sliding lower on your back.

“I’m good,” you replied, firm but polite. “Thanks though.”

He didn’t let go. “Come on, it’s your birthday. Let me tuck you in.”

You pulled away. “Seriously. Leave me alone.”

He frowned. "You don’t have to play hard to get. I saw you dancing on me. Don’t act like—"

“She said leave.”

The voice cut through the air like a gunshot. Cold. Sharp. Familiar.

You turned.

Carlos was standing behind the guy, expression unreadable, fists clenched. He wasn’t yelling. He didn’t have to.

The guy looked him up and down, trying to act tough — but he didn’t stand a chance.

Carlos stepped forward slowly. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

The guy muttered something, backed away, and disappeared down the stairs.

Silence.

You stared at Carlos, adrenaline still buzzing. “You followed me?”

“No.” He looked at you. “I waited. Just in case.”

You opened your mouth to snap — to call him a stalker, to say you didn’t need saving — but nothing came out.

Because for once… you were grateful.

Your voice softened. “Can you… walk me home?”

His gaze dropped to your trembling hands. Then he nodded. “Of course.”

The walk was quiet. You didn’t talk. Just the sound of your heels clicking on pavement and his quiet presence beside you. Like he belonged there. Like he always had.

When you reached your door, he didn’t make a move. Didn’t touch you. Didn’t ask to come in.

“Happy birthday,” he said again, softly. “Sleep well.”

You blinked. “You’re not coming in?”

Carlos smiled — a small, tired thing. “I’ve waited all this time for you. I can wait a little longer… until you decide you want me too.”

Then he turned and walked away.

And for the first time, you were the one left standing there — heart racing, unsure, confused. Because that felt… real.

That felt like restraint. Like patience. Like maybe you’d misjudged him all this time.

But you didn’t know. Couldn’t know. That across the city, in a dimly lit bar, the guy who grabbed you was counting a thick stack of euros… … and whispering into the phone, “It’s done.”

On the other end, Carlos sat alone in his hotel room, wine untouched, staring out the window.

“She asked me to walk her home,” he murmured.

The voice on the other side chuckled. “You’re insane, hermano.”

Carlos hung up.

Insane? Maybe. But tonight, she needed him. Tonight, he was the hero.

And soon, she’d forget the fear, forget the manipulation, forget the way his name used to make her roll her eyes. Soon, she’d see him the way he always saw her.

I just need a little more time, he thought, smiling.

And then she’ll be mine.

@sumbellling, @hhhs7

#f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz

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moonriseoverkyoto · 3 days ago

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Seeing Double - Chapter 5

Pairings - Simon “Ghost” Riley x MacTavish!Reader, Platonic! John “Soap” MacTavish x MacTavish Reader, Platonic! Kyle “Gaz” Garrick x Reader

Summary - Wherever a Banshee cries for death, a ghost always follows

Warnings - depictions of reader being tortured for info (bone breaking, punched, etc, plz be wary), blood, nausea, mentions of vomit, canon-typical gun violence, graves is a slimy eel

Author’s Note - enjoy! Lmk if I missed a warning

Word Count - 4.4K, I really tried to make this longer but I didn’t have it within me

Masterlist / Pt.1 , Pt.2 , Pt.3 , Pt. 4

Johnny’s blood ran cold as he saw the butt of Graves' gun hit your head as your body slumped. The man not even feeling a bullet hit his arm as he hit the ground, a dead shadow sitting on top of him.

“Go Johnny get out of here, now! Soap, go!” Simon’s voice rang out loud and clear as he realized the lieutenant was right. As much as he couldn’t bear leaving you again, he couldn’t do you any good if he died. So he shoved the Shadow off of him and slid down the hill.

“Get him - now!” Graves, commanded as a shadow, tried to shoot at Soap as the Scotsman slid down into the darkness, Johnny shooting off a few shots of his own.

“You there, Ghost? That was a big mistake, brother. It did not have to be like this. All you had to do was hand over Banshee and the base…” Graves trailed off as he rounded around the corner, rain pouring down harder as he saw that Ghost had vanished.

“Son of a bitch, find ‘em! Now!” Graves shouted as he turned back to you, “They’ll eventually find their way back for you, won’t they?” The Texan smirked as he looked down at you.

You didn’t wake again until you were already in the dark room. You woke up gasping as you peered around the room. Your chest heaving as you looked around. The room was dark, except for the bright light above you, blinding you of all sights not immediately in front of you.

You could feel dried blood make a matt in your hair as you starkly noticed how naked you were, well not naked but still. Your gear was missing, as well as your outer level of clothing. You were in a tight fitted tee, some shorts, and your boots were missing but your black socks were still on. You felt your hands and legs still stuck in the zip ties as a familiar voice rang out through the room.

“Still stuck with those dreams, huh?” Graves taunted, “Still trying to save your men with your screams?”

“Jealous I’m not screaming for you?” You snapped back.

“Oh not after seeing what you do to yourself when you sleep.” Graves shot back.

“Oh you wish I wanted to sleep with you for one night.” You responded,

“No, I wish you would tell me where your brother and that damn Ghost is.” Graves said. An idea flickering in your head.

“They’re right under your nose, can’t you see it?” You spoke, venom in your voice. But was quickly silenced by the sound of a shadow’s fist making contact with your cheek.

“Aww Graves, you don’t want to touch me? I’m hurt.” you continued on.

“Oh that hurt me more than it hurt you, sweetheart. But you’re about to be in a whole world of pain, if you don’t tell me where your team is.” Graves spoke.

“Would you believe me if I said I didn’t know?” You tested the waters.

“You don’t know where your brother, his lieutenant, and your old team of two years past are located, yeah. Sure I’ll believe you sweetheart. Right after you cross over my dead body.” Graves shot back.

“That can always be arranged, especially after you betrayed them.”

“What can be arranged is a nice easy death for you, a quiet passing. Even give your Mama and your sisters some compensation-”

“Don’t you fucking talk about my family.” You spit out, your saliva landing on Graves’ cheek. The man swiped it off quickly before he got close to your face.

“Then start talking about yours.”

“Not a fat fucking chance.” You answered.

“Grab her feet.” came Graves voice, loud and clear, your socks being ripped off. Your scream tearing from your throat as you felt your left foot get crunched, a blindfold coming around your eyes.

“Where are we?” Soap said as he and Ghost walked up to an abandoned house in the middle of the countryside. The two soldiers had just barely pulled themselves out of Las Almas and all he could think about was what Graves was doing to you. The dawn sun just barely broke out through the horizon, almost symbolic of how you were barely holding on.

“Alejandro’s safehouse. Gave me the location just in case.” Ghost said, the own man worried about you as well but hid it better. Johnny had already torn off his nails as he bit them in anxiety.

“Why didn't he tell me?” Soap asked.

“It was need to know.” Ghost shrugged.

“What if I needed to know?” Soap shot back at the lieutenant before being shushed. Both men peering down to see a rigged booby trap lay on the ground, barely covered by a cardboard.

“Pressure plate…” The sergeant said softly.

“Alejandro rigged it.” Ghost said definitively.

“Smart bastard.” Soap murmured.

“There.” Ghost said he saw a nearby open window.

Soap made the jump first as he landed safely inside, his boots echoing. Simon followed soon after. The lieutenant paused as both of them saw a shadowed figure move.

“Don’t move.” Ghost shot out as his knife landed into the board behind the figure, barely missing. Both of the men tense as they waited a moment

“¿Quién está ahí?” Who’s there? the voice shouted out.

“Rodolfo!” Soap said suddenly

“Soap! Ghost! You’re alive!” Rudy responded as he peered out through the shadows.

“Affirmative.” Ghost spit out, the man easing up only slightly. Rudy quickly grabbed the knife from the board and didn’t say a word as he recognized it as yours.

“Good to see you, amigos!” Rudy said, not mentioning the missing woman, everyone was already painfully aware of it.

“Igual Amigo.” Soap responded, a soft smile on his face as he said it without thinking.

“Nice throw. Where were you guys?” Rudy said as he passed a knife back to the lieutenant, a look passed between them.

“On the run.”

“I was on the run. Ghost waited for me.”

“Of course, no?” Rudy said.

“No.” Johnny said definitively.

“Yes-” Ghost said immediately after. Johnny looked up at the lieutenant, surprised for a moment.

“We're a team... All of us. This happened on my watch and I'll need help to fix it. No one fights alone.” Ghost said as a look passed over his eyes, his guilt eating his insides alive. Soap nodded in agreement.

Your scream curdled the paint off the wall as the shadow broke your other foot. The pain shooting up your body as your bones were further crushed by Graves using his boots to stand on them.

“I didn’t really want to do this sweetheart. You know that.” Graves said

“Oh yer General’s gonna ‘ave yer head when he sees tha’ you’ve roughed up his favorite toy.” You spit back at him, your accent slipping out.

“Oh that’s the fun in this, sweetheart. He doesn’t care what I do to you, as long as you come crawling back to him, and seeing the state of your feet, I don’t see you walking away from this any time soon.” Graves spoke with a sick joy.

“Why did Graves turn?” Rudy questioned. Ghost’s brain flashing over the memory of the man mentioning something about handing you over, but he kept it to himself, his guilt only compiled the situation further.

“We don’t know.” Soap said, “we thought you would.”

“Las Almas can corrupt anyone.” Rudy said with a nod.

“Not us.” Soap said.

“For now, General Shepard, Laswell, and anyone else outside this room is considered hostile. With two exceptions.”

“Alejandro and..” Soap trailed off, even mentioning your name made his heart lurch but he didn’t need to, the other men understood.

“We need them back.” Ghost murmured

“Ven..” Come.. Rudy nodded, walking the men towards a map. His finger pointing to an x on the spot. “Graves is holding them there.”

“His own personal black site prison.” Soap growled.

“My team is locked in there too.” Rudy spoke.

“How do we get ‘em back?” Johnny said, his fingers tensing.

“By breaking in.” Ghost nodded to him.

“And that’s why I love The Ghost.” Soap said with a knowing smile.

“It’s gonna take more than this.” Ghost said, pointing to all of the surrounding machinery. Rudy walked over to the door and slid it open, revealing a fully-stocked armory of weapons and gear.

“It’s well stocked.” Rudy said.

“Alright.” Ghost nodded.

“My man - we’re gonna need new wheels. Preferably up-armored.” Johnny said as they walked into the armory. Rudy then suddenly tossed a set of keys to Ghost who caught them quickly, the lights coming on to reveal a sleek armored vehicle.

“Alejandro really thought of everything.” Ghost said with a low sigh.

“Yeah he did. Let’s go get ‘em.” Soap growled out. The men approached the vehicle as Soap gripped a new gun and multiple mags.

“The old prison is in a remote area outside of Las Almas. It was maximum security until the Narcos took it over, and it was permanently closed.” Rudy explained as the men surrounded the map. A headshot of you and Alejandro were on the map. Ghost felt his heart lurched at how different you looked in the photo, still bright eyed and bushy tailed. He noticed how your eyes still twinkled, no jagged scar in sight.

“There is no airstrip, but expect helios for security and resupply.” Rudy continued, his hand moving to another part of the map labeled, ‘entry’ and ‘guard tower’ written on it.

“We’ll drive up to an offset and ruck up to our infil - here. If the security towers are manned, we’ll need to take them out first and rope up the wall for entry.” Ghost said with a nod.

“What about cameras?” Soap questioned, the man ready to enter guns a’ blazin’ if it meant bringing you home. Rudy pointed to a security room labeled ‘CCTV’.

“There’s CCTVs in the security room.” Rudy answered.

“We’ll use them to locate Alejandro, and Banshee.” Ghost spoke.

“Let’s divide and conquer. While Rudy finds Al, I’ll use the cams to help Ghost plant charges in key areas, and find my sister.” Soap said, setting an explosive onto the table.

“Diversions and sabotage. Nice Johnny.” Simon almost smiled under his mask.

“I learned from the best, L.T. Once we pinpoint Ale, my sister, and Los Vaqueros, we regroup and pry ‘em loose.” Johnny smiled at the idea of you being safe back with them and then blowing Graves to bits and pieces.

“We’ll carry extra guns in to arm them and fight our way out the way we came in.” Rudy nodded.

“Any questions?” Ghost spoke out.

“The hell are we waitin’ for L.T?”

Just as you were about to sleep, ice cold water was splashed all over you. Before you could wonder where the hell Graves found ice cold water in the desert. Pain shot up your body as two boots roughly stepped on your broken feet.

“Fuck me!” You cried out before gritting your teeth.

“Oh I’d love to, but another time.” Graves smirked before he whispered in your ear, “Now you tell me where your brother is, and I’ll get you a nice pillow and a blanket-”

You reached out blindly, as the binds tore against your wrists. Your teeth ripping against Graves’ lobe. A violent smile tearing across your face as you heard the man cry out.

“Get the rope.” Graves said as you were ripped out of your chair. Your hands suddenly wrapped up in a rope and you were strung up high. A slight whimper of relief leaving your body as a pressure was taken off your feet, but then the weight of being hung pulled at your arms harshly and your back. Your body weight was tugging you down.

“Last chance, tell me where they are.”

“I said I don’t know!” You cried out. Then the pain came. At first you expected it to be worse than what you went through two years ago, but for some reason, this was easier. But yet Graves hand dug deep as he punched you in the gut, you could feel the skin starting to bruise and your bones ache as he continued to beat you into a pulp but you didn’t falter.

‘Just a little longer.’ You told yourself as warm blood and vomit pooled into your mouth. Suddenly you bristled as Graves stopped.

“The fuck was that?” he said as the sound of gunfire got closer. The man suddenly getting up as you smirked

“Leaving so soon?” You said confidently, concealing your fear. Nothing was said and that was scarier. The room was just quiet as the commotion got louder outside.

Ghost, Soap, and Rudy had taken no time to run through the base. The men tear through shadows like a hot knife through butter.

“Ghost, what's your status?” Soap said through the comms, seeing the entrance through the cell block.

“Comin’ your way.” The man clipped out.

“Copy tha’. We’re on the move.” Soap reported.

“Heads up on the helo.” Rudy warned, hearing it pass over.

“Looks like we’re out of sight.” Ghost said as they reached the entrance of the cell block. Soap began to fidget as he knew you were close.

“Cell Block. Entry’s ahead. Shadows blocking the way.” Rudy blurted out.

“Let’s send ‘em all to hell and get inside.” Soap growled. Suddenly Ghost grabbed one of the guards and snapped his neck as Rudy shot the other.

“All Clear.” Rudy said as they entered the block. Soap tried the door but to no avail.

“It’s locked.”

“We’ll need to breach it.” Rudy suggested

“No Rudy - just knock.”

“On me.” Rudy said as he knocked.

A shadow opened the door and stepped outside only to be ambushed by Ghost who snapped his neck and the man crumpled as three more shadows stepped out.

“Enemies on the second deck-!” Rudy cried out.

“More comin’ down the stairs-!” Ghost said back.

“Soap we’ll keep ‘em busy up top! Press forward..!” Ghost commanded. The Scotsman pushed forward, taking down a Shadow as he did so.

“Comin’ up behind you Sergeant.” Ghost said.

“They’re both up there. Let’s go” Rudy said. The three men climbed up the stairs.

“Alejandro’s down the hall, right side.”

“Expect contact lads.” Ghost murmured just as they saw two shadows guarding Alejandro’s cell.

“Light ‘em up-!” Ghost yelled out.

“¡¡Mueran, pinches sombras!!” Come on, you shadow fucks! Rudy said as he shot them down.

“There’s Alejandro’s cell.. Open it up, I’ll cover you.” Soap said to Rudy as Ghost pulled out some bolt cutters,

“Johnny, when I pop this lock, you push in. This is what we came for..” Ghost said to the man. Ghost broke the lock and Johnny pushed in his door. Alejandro suddenly tackled the man as he entered the cell.

“Al! - It’s me, hermano!” Soap cried out.

“Coronel, relájate, cabrón, somos nosotros.” Colonel, relax, it's us. Rudy spoke quickly, Alejandro then relaxed, looking relieved to see the men. He released Johnny quickly.

“Your sister is in the room down the hall.” Alejandro said as Rudy gave him some gear and weaponry.

Soap and Ghost heard the conversation continue as they walked down the hallway. Soap’s hands were shaking as they busted down the door. Ghost was ready to fight you as he entered the room, instead he was horrified at the sight that laid before his eyes.

You were strung up by your wrists, bloodied and bruised, hanging off the ground like a piece of meat to be slaughtered. Your feet were black and blue, clear evidence of being broken inward. Your clothes were soaking wet as you shivered slightly, parts of the clothes torn. You whimpered softly at the sudden intrusion as you heard the door broken inward. Soap was frozen still as the lieutenant quickly came to your aid and cut the rope. You fell into his arms and thrashed, still thinking it wasn’t over. Ghost’s voice came out as soft as a whisper as he held you in his arms.

“Hey, it’s me,” he said as he pulled up his mask just short of his hairline, before realizing you couldn’t see from your own blindfold on your head.

“Ghost?” You croaked out, as he pulled it off.

“Simon, love. It’s Simon.” He whispered as you finally saw his face. Both of you finally see each other without the mask. A moment passes between you as you study his features, a feeling of relief overcoming the fear coursing through your veins.

In another life, he would’ve kissed you and walked out of here without caring who shot him, as long as you made it home safe. In another life those blue eyes approached you at the bar, asked you for a drink, maybe even gotten your number. In another life, those blue eyes gazed into yours with the same amount of care but in the safety of a bedroom, with a ring vowing you both together for all of eternity. In another life, those rough hands that held your head were soft, free of all the calluses of war, softened by a life of peace and love. In another life the body that cradled yours was plushy from a life of relaxation, not hardened from war.

But this was not that life, in this life, in this stale bloodied room, you both held onto each other like two separate halves searching for a whole. His blue eyes piercing through yours as a hand came up to his face, before you tilted your head and croaked again.

“Johnny?” You said softly. Your brother quickly comes to your aid, snapping out his disorientation.

“I’m here. Right here.” Johnny said as he undid your bonds. A cry leaving your mouth as your feet struck each other, pain shooting up your body. Simon felt his heart lurch in his chest at the noise.

“I’m gonna kill the fuckin’ bastard.” Johnny said as Simon passed you into your brother’s arms. His hand trailing your back as he made sure your brother had you secure in his arms.

“Place is crawlin’ with Shadows. There’ll be hell ahead.” Ghost said as he pulled his mask over his face. Rudy and Alejandro appeared at the door. Alejandro holding a submachine gun.

“Let’s fight fire with fire.” Alejandro said. Simon glanced back at you but you were already turned in safely into your brother’s arms.

“Let’s get out of here boys.” Johnny said as more vaqueros came into his vision as they left the cell. The Scotsman was desperately aware of your pain as he avoided Simon’s gaze.

“Órale, on you, Rodolfo.” Alejandro called out.

“You seen Graves here?” Soap questioned Alejandro.

“No, but I plan to pay that cabrón a special visit.” Alejandro growled out.

“Not before I do.” Soap said.

“You four, on me.” Alejandro said as he pushed the other vaqueros in another direction.

“¡Ninguna prision puede detener a Los Vaqueros...!” No prison can hold the cowboys...! One cried out.

“El unico que puede matar a Alejandro es Alejandro... “The only thing that can kill Alejandro is Alejandro… another shouted into the night. The group of you entered a dark mess hall.

“This was the mess hall.” Alejandro said softly.

“Let's make a mess then.” Soap said as he held you tighter.

“Órale, Jabón.” Alejandro nodded, suddenly the glaring lights came on.

“Shadows know we're here, stay sharp.” Ghost said. Suddenly they opened fire and Simon grabbed Johnny and yanked him behind his larger body. The group wasted no time in clearing the entire prison as they made their way out, only stopped by a large door.

“Big room, make sure we’re clear!” Alejandro called out to Rudy.

“Despejado Coronel.” Appears clear Rudy called back

“It’s padlocked.” Alejandro said, checking the door. Simon cut through with his bolt cutters, making Alejandro chuckle.

“El fantasma, siempre preparado.” The Ghost, always prepared.

“On you, Colonel.” Ghost nodded, the colonel then kicking in the door.

“Weapons hot, hermanos. Stairwell leads down and out. We’ll link up with the others and exfil the fuck out of here.” Alejandro nodded to the group.

“Ye hear that? Almost home. Just a little longer” Johnny whispered to you, you only whimpered in his chest.

“Exfil vehicles are set. Ghost planted charges to help us out.” Rudy said to Alejandro.

“With Johnny’s help.” Ghost added.

“I can’t call Jabón, ‘Johnny’.” Alejandro spoke.

“Don’t. Only Ghost and ma’ family can pull tha’ off.” Johnny quipped back as they made their way down the stairs. The men freezed seeing the yard.

“We’ll have to cross the yard to get everyone out.” Rudy said softly.

Alejandro led them, then Rudy, then Soap, then Simon. Soap carefully leaned forward to shield you with his body.

“The roof, right side!” Rudy called out before the shots rang out. The men returned the fire and took out the shadows before a stray sniper bullet grazed Johnny’s uniform.

“Sniper on the roof!” Alejandro called out right as Simon took him down in a single half second.

“Not anymore.” Simon quipped. The group made it safely across the yard before halting seeing some Shadows get out of a pick-up.

“Johnny, that truck has one of our chargers on it, detonate it.” Simon said.

“Here it comes.” The sergeant said as he pushed the button. The truck exploded, killing the surrounding shadows.

“Ka-freakin-boom!” The sergeant said with a soft smile.

“Keep moving!” Ghost said as he came behind the sergeant. Alejandro led the men down the road from the prison safely, but a pickup truck in the distance with a turret gun appeared. Johnny immediately donated without warning to the others.

“¡Órale, qué belleza!” That’s a thing of beauty! Alejandro cheered out before turning to Rodolfo. “Where to next?”

“Cut through this building up here.” Rudy said with a nod. The men continued on to the exfil point without worry. Johnny held you closer and closer as you shivered in the night air. He was beginning to become distracted by your movements until the sound of a helicopter came from the distance.

“Ye hear that?” Soap called out.

“Helicopter, searching for us!” Alejandro said.

“We’ll need more than what we have to take it out.” Ghost said, his worry clouding his judgement.

“All stations, this is Bravo-6. Get down lads!” came Price’s voice, a breathless smile covering Johnny’s face as the men got down. A missile suddenly comes out of a nearby helicopter to take down the Shadow aircraft. Johnny could see Gaz hanging out from the other side of the wall, waving a green flare.

“It’s Price!” Simon yelled out.

“Hell-fuckin-yeah!” Soap cried out, before he spoke to you, “Cap’s here, just give me a little longer.”

“All Bravo and Vaqueros… Top o’ the wall. Get over here and I’ll get you out!” came Price’s voice again through the comms.

“Loud and Clear, Price!” Ghost said.

“Who is that?” Rudy questioned as they moved towards the wall.

“A friend.” Johnny said with a knowing smile.

“I like him already.” Alejandro laughed, before commanding his men, “¡Vaqueros, vayan al muro, entre las torres, ya!” Vaqueros, get to the wall, between the towers, now!

“I’ve deployed ropes!” Price said over the comms as they approached the wall.

“I’ll need to be pulled up, I’ve got cargo!” Johnny said over the comms. The rest of the men, including the vaqueros, used the ropes to climb and Johnny grabbed the final rope. Gaz grunted as he and Alejandro pulled the rope, their combined muscle not being enough. Ghost acted quickly to make a pulley system with a few pieces of metal.

“I got your sorry asses.” Ghost said, in reality he knew they would pull you up, he just wanted you to be here faster. His arms burned as he helped pull up the two of you. His muscles bulged with each tug as you both got closer and closer. He finally breathed a sigh of relief when he pulled you and Johnny to the top and your brother slid you both down.

“Sergeant Mactavish, and..” Price’s smile fell as he saw you in Johnny’s arms, bruised, battered, and shivering.

“Good to see you cap’.” Johnny said with a nod.

“Ghost.” Gaz nodded, taking notice of how quick the lieutenant acted to help Johnny and you.

“Garrick, Price.” The lieutenant nodded.

“How’d you know?” Johnny questioned.

“Laswell.” Gaz answered.

“Soon as Shepard went dark, she called us.” Price finished.

“Laswell, still solid as a rock.” Ghost nodded as his gaze fell over you, Johnny’s clothes were wet from yours, only worsening your shaking in the desert cold. Johnny saw Simon’s look and quickly passed you over. Your form softened as Simon quickly shushed your whimper, recognizing the man. Simon held you bridal style and tucked your legs in to avoid your feet hitting anything and further damaging them.

“Colonel Vargas, meet Captain Price and Sergeant Garrick.” Johnny introduced the two men now that his hands were free.

“Thanks for the assist!” Alejandro said. The men turned to see their escape vehicles.

“Let’s get out of here!” Gaz yelled as they made a break towards the vehicles. Gaz took the driver’s seat, Price took shotgun as Ghost piled into the back with you in his arms and Johnny behind the driver’s seat. Alejandro and Rudy communicating over the radio about meeting back at a safe house.

“Hit it Gaz!” Price barked at the man as Gaz’s boot roughly hit the gas as he pulled out quickly. A silence fell over the car as Ghost finally spoke up.

“Shepard burned us.” He said as he looked down and noticed your lashes fluttering with the temptation of sleep. Simon’s guilt ate at him, you could’ve been safe if he had just caught Graves earlier.

“He sent Graves and his Shadows to kill us and round up Los Vaqueros, and take ‘er.” Johnny said as his gaze fell upon you safely in his lieutenant’s arms.

“We know why.” Price said as he too saw the same image in the rearview mirror.

“Laswell did a bit of digging.” Gaz said with a glance into the rearview mirror.

“What did she find?” Ghost said as he watched you finally fall asleep in his chest, your hand curling up against his shirt, his chest gear long gone.

“The truth…” Price said with a certain look in his eyes. The men all exchanged a glance at each other as they rode back safely to the meeting point.

Author’s note - heyyyy, so a lot happened, but more will come. I had to get this chapter out. Also did anyone notice the shift in Simon and Ghost being used? (Plz say yes)

My requests are open!

#call of duty #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #Simon ghost Riley x you #Simon Riley x you #ghost x you #call of duty fanfic #call of duty fic #cod fic #john price #Kyle gaz Garrick #John soap MacTavish #simon riley angst #Simon Riley fic #ghost fanfic

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angel-writes-here · 23 hours ago

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Do You Love Me

G-Dragon x AFAB! Reader Synopsis: You meet your ex after his show. Warnings: None really. Some fluff. A/N: If you'd like to be tagged in future fics let me know! PART 1

Jiyong practically lept out of bed after your conversation, much to his managers relief. He took a shower, washed his hair and brushed his teeth, he decided it was time to become the bona fide G-Dragon again, even if only for the night.

At the venue, the crowd is cheering, people are bustling back stage and Jiyong’s heart is racing against his ribcage.

“Has she shown up?” His voice is frantic as he puts on his mic pack.

“Not yet, she’ll be here,” his manager tries to reassure him. You had shown up actually, but instead of waiting backstage you chose to sit in the crowd. You hadn’t let anyone know, you didn’t want to be any kind of distraction. You wanted him to know that you aren’t the reason he is who he is.

The lights go down, the music starts and there he is, strong and radiant along side his best friends. You manage to stay out of view of the man you once loved, the one you aren’t sure you’re completely over yet almost until the end of the show.

He scans the crowd constantly looking for you, his smile faltering when he doesn’t find you, until the last song, One Last Dance begins and he spots you. He stops mid stride and stares you down the whole first half of the song.

His gaze is intense, but you can’t look away form him. When his verse comes up, he hops down from the stage and stands right in front of you by the barriers, serenading you in front of everyone, drawing millions of eyes to the both of you in the crowd and on screen.

“Just one last dance.”

He cups your face and fans are screaming around you. His touch feels like velvety and comfortable, something you’ve deeply missed. He smiles at you before returning to the stage for the outro of the song.

At the end of the night, you find his manager and he sneaks you back stage. Jiyong is sprinting off the stage instantly looking for you. He goes back to the green room, no sign of you. He looks around back stage, not a single trace you were ever there. It’s not until he finally changes that you knock on his dressing room door. He opens it and freezes. He really hadn’t thought this far, what he’d say or do. He drags his eyes up and down your outfit, one he recognized from your very first date. He doesn’t think, just pulls you to him and shuts the door behind you. His grip is strong, like that of cement. You don’t speak; you just hold each other. You start humming a tune and wrap your arms around his neck, swaying with him in the room.

The two of you dance for a moment before you whisper his name.

“Jiyong.”

He pulls back and looks at you, hands still tight around your waist. He searches your eyes, still bewildered he’s holding you again. He leans his forehead against yours.

“I missed you,” he chokes out. He couldn’t possibly pull you any closer, and yet somehow, he does. You can feel his breath against your lips, the heat from his body intoxicating in the intimate moment.

“Jagi, I’m so sorry,” he whispers inches from your lips, a stray tear making its way down his cheek.

“I’m sorry I hurt you,” before he can finish your lips crash into his, longing and fervent. The kiss is intense, as if neither of you can take being physically separated from a moment longer.

Your lungs start to burn from lack of oxygen so you pull away for a moment, both of you panting, fanning each other with your hard breathing.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he tries to explain, “I was drunk and I’m sorry. It’s no excuse but I can’t take it back. Y/n losing you,” you cup his cheek.

“Shh, shh,” you try to comfort him.

“I know, baby. I know you’re sorry.” He sighs in relief, but his body is still tense under your touch.

“I swear if you give me another chance, it won’t happen again. I need you like I need air. This means nothing, all of it pales in comparison to you. If you aren’t here, I can’t do this anymore.”

“Jiyong that’s not true, you did it tonight without knowing if I was even here.”

“It still wasn’t the same,” he mumbles.

“Please tell me you still love me,” his words are small, his voice weak due to fear of your rejection.

“I still love you,” you offer him a small smile.

“I love you more than you’ll ever know.” He says and you can’t help but kiss his soft lips again.

“Come home,” he pleads.

“That was the plan,” you smirk he grins from ear to ear as he pulls you into an almost suffocating hug.

Tags: @breakmeoff

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ummachistaamenos-blog · 16 hours ago

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undermine

summary: Ana’s a Brazilian engineer who, by total chance, meets Pedro at a coffee shop in LA. What starts with coffee turns into a friendship with benefits—full of desire, intimacy, and longing. Between trips, daily texts, and random meetups, they build something deep—something made of skin, quiet affection, and all the things they never say out loud. A year later, she surprises him on his birthday, and all those feelings they’ve been trying to keep on the sidelines? Yeah, they spill over. warnings: age gap (ñom), smut, dry humping, oral (m. receiving), jealous!pedro, possesive!pedro, short story, two parts story word count: probably 6,000 words side note: Just another story, another little experiment. this one’s gonna be short—I think just two parts—and I’ll try to drop Part 2 either tomorrow (April 17) or by the 18th at the latest. the whole story’s set during his birthday earlier this month, with a tiny bit of flashback at the end of part 1, ok? got the gif at pinterest, not mine but i believe is from @ a7estrellas (?) something like that, sorry. lemme know if you’re into it, and I’ll be back with part 2! part 1 | part 2

∞

"Hello?"

"Ana? It's Lux!" The voice on the other end was giddy. "Everything's set, we'll be on location by five. You'll make it just fine, yeah?"

Ana smiled, juggling her passport and carry-on.

"Oh thank God! I was scared I'd be late. You're sure I won't be intruding, Lu? It's his birthday... family time and all—"

"Intruding? Girl, he's been DYING to see you. Won't stop complaining about your work schedule. Never seen him this antsy."

Ana laughed awkwardly.

Does she know?

"Seriously?"

"Dead serious! Now hurry up, everyone's excited."

They said their goodbyes and Ana pocketed her phone. Her pulse raced—hard to tell if it was the line or the thought of seeing Pedro. She wanted his scent, his warmth...

As the immigration officer stamped her passport, Ana's mind wandered. Did Lux, Javiera and Nicolas know? They were so close. Had they noticed how she and Pedro crossed way beyond friendship? Because when they were alone, it wasn't just affection. It was hunger. It was bodies. A craving so sharp it ached sometimes.

And it'd been weeks. Weeks without his touch, his weight, those rough hands and raspy moans. The way his teeth grazed her ear, her scalp, her throat. The thick veins on his—Jesus. Control yourself. You're at border control.

Later, showered and fed at the hotel, Ana met his siblings at the rendezvous point with hugs and warm chatter. Lux was vibrating, holding a cake with a single candle.

"Surprise! You're delivering this," she said, thrusting it into Ana's hands.

"Me?!"

"Obviously! You're his best present today. Go on."

She definitely knows. Lately, they hadn't been great at hiding it anyway.

As they walked toward his trailer, close friends and crew joined in, some filming, others grinning. Pedro was inside, oblivious, when the singing started.

"Happy birthday to you—"

He bolted to the doorway, eyes widening. He smiled at the crowd, at his siblings—then froze when he saw Ana holding the cake.

His breath hitched.

"No..." he whispered. "You."

She smiled shyly and waved. "Happy birthday, amor."

He moved without thinking. Took the cake, handed it to Lux, then pulled Ana into him like the world was collapsing. A hug so tight it said everything he hadn't yet voiced. He buried his face in her neck and breathed.

Like coming up for air after drowning.

Her scent. Lavender, vanilla, jasmine, sandalwood, patchouli, coumarin. Her favorite notes—of course he remembered. They'd talked about it that night she'd lain in his lap, tracing his fingers while explaining how she loved perfumes that balanced sweetness and depth. He'd laughed, claiming ignorance. Now he was addicted.

On her skin, those notes transformed. Became more than fragrance—they were presence. Memory. Intimacy. To Pedro, this smelled like home. Like safety. Like relief. Like opening the door after an endless day to the right silence, the right touch, the hug that unravels you. It smelled like slow Sunday laughter, bare feet on kitchen tiles, tomato sauce splattering as she danced to Lana Del Rey while he pretended to hate it but sang along anyway.

It smelled like good wine and hands wandering under shirts, like stolen kisses between cabinets and muffled moans against cold countertops. It smelled of raw, reckless want—the kind that ignites without warning and burns like wildfire.

But above all, it smelled like peace.

And peace? That was rare for Pedro. Priceless.

So he lingered there, face buried in her neck, breathing deep. Not just to memorize the scent—but to remind himself that somehow, without explanation, this was the only place left in the world he wanted to be.

"I missed you so much," he murmured against her skin.

Ana shut her eyes and smiled into his shoulder. "Me too."

And for that moment, surrounded by candles and laughter and applause, nothing else existed. Just them.

Pedro finally pulled back just to look at her. "You have no idea how badly I needed you here today."

Her eyes glistened. "Now you have me."

And for once, he forgot everything. All he knew was how much he needed this—even if he'd never dared say it out loud.

∞

The day one.

The sun hadn’t even fully shown its face yet when Ana finished her last set after lifting. The time difference between Houston and L.A. messed with her body clock a little, so waking up early just happened. She was walking light-footed between the gym and the house the company had rented for her and her friends during their three months of training out there. Underground Natural Gas Storage—it was turning into a new obsession, and she was there to learn it.

She was strolling, headphones dangling around her neck, when she spotted a little coffee shop a block over with a cute sign: "Café Baum."

"Oh my God. Minas coffee? Thank you, Lord," she muttered to herself, picking up the pace.

That’s when she saw a guy standing next to a black car—clearly fancy. He was messing with something in the back seat, distracted, and when he shut the door, he didn’t notice it stayed half-open. Ana liked walking alone, people-watching, taking in her surroundings. It wasn’t weird for her to notice the guy. She hesitated for a second. Not a dangerous neighborhood, but still, leaving a door open… figured she’d say something, especially since she was heading to the same coffee shop.

When she walked in, he was already in line. She approached calmly and tapped his shoulder lightly.

"Hey, sorry—" she said with a soft smile.

He turned around, and Ana’s eyes went wide.

It was Pedro Pascal. The Pedro Pascal, right in front of her, with that half-surprised, half-charmed smile. And he was gorgeous. Way hotter than on any screen. Golden skin, brown hair with silver streaks, messy in that effortless way, and his eyes—damn, those warm honey-brown eyes looked like they saw everything. He was wearing a simple dark tee and a light jacket, but he still oozed magnetic charm. And his smell? Oh my God. Woodsy, warm, intoxicating. Ana had to focus not to take another deep inhale like a total freak.

Meanwhile, seeing her stunned face, he went straight to the obvious.

"Yeah, yeah. We can take a pic if you want," he said, friendly but automatic, like he did this every day.

Ana let out a quick, genuine laugh and shook her head.

"No, no! Not that, sweetie... I just wanted to tell you about the door. Your car door. You left it open."

Pedro blinked twice, clearly thrown, then smacked his forehead with pure embarrassment.

"Oh my God... Sorry! What an idiot," he said, almost blushing. "Thanks for telling me. I’m a disaster with this stuff. Gonna go fix that now."

He rushed out of line, and Ana, grinning to herself, went up to order. When he came back, he still looked kinda sheepish.

"I feel like such a dumbass with that whole ‘celebrity moment’," he started when he got back to her. Ana thought he was adorable—the attitude, the charm, the obvious embarrassment and the humility that followed. Did it make him even hotter? Hell yes.

"At least let me buy your coffee. To make up for my shame," he said.

"Didn’t have to, but… if you insist," she replied, faking thoughtfulness with a raised eyebrow.

"I insist. Hard," he shot back with that lopsided, dimpled grin that could melt an iceberg.

They grabbed their coffees and shuffled away from the counter, kinda awkward. A short, comfortable silence settled between them.

"Look… seriously, sorry again. It was automatic. Happens more than I’d like," Pedro said, running fingers through his hair.

Why so damn hot, Ana thought.

"It’s fine. Was funny, honestly," she said, grinning. "And to be fair, you’re an amazing actor. Love your work."

Pedro smiled, genuinely surprised, his gaze softening. "Thanks. That means a lot, really." He studied her closer, like he was actually seeing her for the first time. "You’re from Brazil? Caught a little accent."

"Yeah, Northeast. But I’m in Texas now. Here with coworkers for training."

"Nice. I’m Chilean. Love running into South Americans here. Feels more like home, you know?"

"Oh, totally. We’ve got that same energy. More warmth, more random chatter, more… intensity," she laughed.

"Yes! Exactly!" He laughed with her. "So what do you do? Coffee biz, or just a professional appreciator?"

He slid into a nearby table and gave her a silent join me look. Ana sat across from him.

"Chemical engineer. Here for a course on underground natural gas storage."

"Brains and beauty. Solid combo," Pedro said lightly, but Ana caught a mischievous glint in his eye.

Or am I hallucinating? she wondered.

She flushed a little, pretending not to hear, and laughed. "And you? How long’ve you been acting again?" she teased.

"Oof, low blow. But fair," he chuckled, tipping his head back. "Since… forever? Theater, TV, movies. Not always, but a long damn time. Only recently people started recognizing me on the street, though." He smirked.

Pedro watched her—the way she fiddled with her cup, how she glanced out the window with a half-smile. There was something hypnotic about her. She wasn’t trying to impress him. And yet. The conversation kept flowing easy, natural. Like they’d known each other. And with every word, the quiet attraction burned hotter.

Neither knew it yet, but this wasn’t just coffee. It was the first chapter of something neither expected—but both had secretly wanted for a long damn time.

Ana’s cheeks warmed every time he smiled. She felt weirdly teenage right now, and that was strange. It’d been forever since she’d felt that—the light flutter, the electric buzz in the air. And it wasn’t just the fame. It was the man in front of her. How he listened like she was the only thing that mattered. How his eyes stayed locked on hers like nothing else existed. Like she was interesting. Beautiful. Special.

Pedro was hooked too. There was something about Ana that didn’t fit the usual mold. She was gorgeous in this effortless, quiet way. Her fair skin always looked slightly flushed, and the contrast with her long, straight black hair gave her this ethereal, almost cartoon-princess vibe. Her eyes were expressive, talking as much as her mouth—and her mouth… yeah, he’d already noticed how hard it was to look away.

"So you liking LA so far?" he asked.

"A lot. Thought I'd hate it, but I'm loving it. Probably 'cause I haven't hit traffic yet," she answered with a laugh.

"Ah, so there's still hope for you," he said, grinning wide.

"What about you? You living here full-time?"

"Yeah, for now at least. Shoots are here, and it's easier for everything. But I miss Chile sometimes. The food, the people... speaking Spanish with everyone."

"Same. Portuguese is a needy language. It misses being spoken," she said.

"That's poetic. You write?"

"Just technical reports," she laughed.

"I'm already a fan."

They talked for over two hours—laughing, trading stories, teasing. Ana talked work trips; Pedro ranted about chaotic film sets and insane directors. They tossed Spanish and Portuguese phrases around, laughed at the differences. The chemistry was thick. No awkward silences—just pauses loaded with meaning.

When she finally got up to leave, both their hearts did a little protest. Pedro stood too, clutching his empty cup, hesitating.

"I know this might sound weird… but can I see you again? Lunch, dinner, more coffee… any excuse works," he said, dragging a hand through his hair—a nervous habit, she realized.

Ana smiled, eyes bright. "Yeah. Any excuse works."

The cell signal was still spotty when Ana finally answered the call. She was in the immigration line at Heathrow, exhausted and buzzing with excitement. It was only noon, but the line was endless and she was starving.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader masterlist #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x you #pedroispunk #pedropascaledit #pedro #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fic #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal x ofc #real people fiction #pedrito

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itsnesss · 1 day ago

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Please a junho x shy!reader and she’s American girlfriend of junho? Like the season 1, she’s a VIP and unknowingly to the other VIPs and the frontman who he has a soft spot for shy!reader, she’s secretly planning to take down the games. In season 2, after the games, shy!reader and junho met & known each other for 1 year then got together the next year and they’re expecting a son a year later. Shy!reader wants to help Gi-hun but everyone agrees that shy!reader won’t go because currently she’s in the hospital and just given birth a son who’s relax around shy!reader. Before Gi-hun leaves the private room, the part where Gi-hun talks the frontman in the car, shy!reader tells her friend Gi-hun to be careful and she’ll be back helping him take down the games as a VIP (I heard that the VIPs, the wealthy spectators from Season 1 of "Squid Game," are confirmed to be returning in Season 3).

𝐭𝐰𝐨-𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐝 | hwang jun-ho × fem!reader

summary | you’re a secret vip in the squid game, working to take down the system. after having a child with jun-ho, you return, continuing your mission

warnings | shy!reader, gf!junho, infiltration, motherhood, mentions of violence, manipulation, deception, corruption, and psychological tension

word count | 1.1 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

You hide behind a golden mask and a trembling voice.

To all the VIPs, you're just a quiet, American, mysterious figure. Someone who enjoys the games in silence, from the corner. No one suspects that every glance of yours is a calculation, every word a distraction, every smile a betrayal of their system.

Not even the Frontman.

He—hidden behind his own mask—seems to have a quiet weakness for you. He never pushes, never questions your choices. He leaves you alone in your silences. But he doesn’t know the truth: that from the very beginning, you’ve been playing the most dangerous game of all.

Destroying them from the inside.

You never expected to meet Jun-ho on this path. And even less that he would become your lifeline.

After the games ended, you and he crossed paths by chance at a gallery in Busan. You were nobody then. Just an American woman with too many secrets and a past that burned. He wasn’t the same either. He carried the weight of a lost brother and a system he had seen too closely.

You spent a year getting to know each other. A year of long looks, of careful conversations, of trust built like walking on thin ice. Then another year together. Closer. More real. Until love became an undeniable truth… and you were expecting his child.

You, who had always lived in shadows, found yourself embracing the light he brought.

Your child was born on a cold morning. The hospital was silent, save for the sound of his heartbeat against yours. And in that moment, you understood why it was worth continuing the plan.

But that day, Gi-hun also arrived.

He was determined. He had come back. Wanted to face the system again, with more fury and more reasons. You wanted to join him, as always, as an ally and a friend. But everyone agreed:

"No. Not this time." Jun-ho took your hand, firm. "You just gave birth. Don’t risk it now."

Gi-hun, though he hated leaving you behind, understood. Because he knew you from before. From the days when you pretended to enjoy the games, while secretly slipping information off the island, contacting victims, recording every damn move.

Before leaving, he entered the private room. You were holding your son in your arms. He was sleeping, peacefully, as if he knew you were there, strong as always.

"You have to be careful," you told Gi-hun, your voice soft, but with an edge beneath. "You know I’ll be back. I’ll return as a VIP, just like we planned. From the inside. But you… just come back alive, okay?"

Gi-hun nodded. He leaned toward you and squeezed your hand.

"You too. Take care of him."

Jun-ho came closer then, his gaze on you and the baby. And you knew that, for now, this was your battlefield. But soon you’d return to the other one.

When Gi-hun left and got into the car where the Frontman was waiting, you watched from the window, your baby sleeping on your chest. You couldn’t hear them, but you knew that tension. You knew the face behind the mask.

In-ho still didn’t know that you had been gathering information all along. Or that one of the quietest VIPs was infiltrated up to her neck.

But he would find out.

Because in the next edition, when the masks return, when the games begin again and the VIPs gather above, you’ll be there. Again.

Stronger.

More dangerous.

With an even more powerful reason to finish what you started: your son.

Jun-ho will wait outside. Gi-hun will move his pieces. And you, as always, will strike from within. With shy eyes. And a perfect plan.

...

Your dress is gold. The masks, again. The fake laughter. The champagne. And you, there, walking among them like you belong.

But you don’t belong. You never did.

The other VIPs joke, bet, murmur about the new edition of the games. You smile when you have to, nod when they look at you, but inside, every second is a countdown.

In-ho—the Leader—is present. You feel his gaze on you sometimes, as if there’s still something human left in him. He doesn’t know the truth. He doesn’t know that the timid woman he once protected from a distance is the same one now planning his downfall.

Years ago, you never thought you’d return to this world. But you did. For Gi-hun. For the victims. For your son.

Your baby walks now. Says his first words. Jun-ho sends you videos, photos, messages in code. He knows what you’re risking. But he also knows he couldn’t stop you.

Not when you decided to fight a system from the inside.

"Stay in control," he told you before you left.

"Take care of our son," was your reply.

That night, you enter the main hall. There’s a new kind of game. Crueler. More twisted. The screens show participants running, screaming, obeying. You don’t look away, even though your blood boils. Every face is a reminder. Every shot, a wound in your memory.

A VIP sits beside you. He speaks with a thick, vulgar voice, laughing at the tragedy on screen. He doesn’t know who you really are. Doesn’t know that in your dress pocket, there’s a micro recorder. Or that you’re carrying a device copying data from the internal system in real-time.

"What do you think of this game, darling?" he asks.

You look at him with your shyest, softest eyes. The ones that have disarmed soldiers and monsters alike.

"It’s… entertaining," you whisper.

A lie.

Everything you say is a lie.

And yet, every step brings you closer to the truth.

Later, you pretend to go to the bathroom. But you enter an empty room, where you hide a drive behind a panel, just as you agreed with Gi-hun. He’ll know where to look. He’s always been good at reading your silences.

You stop in front of the mirror.

Your reflection isn’t the same. There’s more strength in your posture. More scars in your gaze.

But there’s something else, too.

Hope.

Because this time, you’re not alone.

That night, when the session ends, In-ho walks toward you. His mask on. His voice, neutral.

"You seem stronger than before," he says.

"Motherhood, maybe," you reply, with a casual air.

He doesn’t answer. Just nods, almost like he… doubts. Like he suspects something and still doesn’t want to confirm it.

And you… you pray that when all this collapses, he remembers the part of himself that was once human.

Hours later, in your private room, you open a hidden message in a photo sent by Jun-ho.

Your baby is laughing, with the same smile he has.

"Everything’s fine over here," says the coded text.

You sigh. Your heart aches, but it also burns with a steady fire.

You’re getting closer. You know it.

The games won’t last forever.

Not as long as you keep pretending to belong.

And the end is near.

#jun ho squid game #squid game 2 #squid game #squid game x reader #junho x reader #jun ho x reader #hwang junho #hwang jun ho x reader #hwang jun ho

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