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cheriladycl01 · 1 year ago

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Qatar Heat - Grid x Driver! Reader

Plot: Everyone has a hard time at the Qatar GP, most needed medical attention once the race finished, some drivers retired and some continued even though they threw up in their helmets. What happens when the female of the grid, who already struggles with body temperature regulation finishes the race?

It was Thursday, which was media day in Qatar which meant that right now you were walking round the paddock in shorts and your Aston Martin Team top.

"Lance, hey are you okay?" You ask your team-mate. You'd known him since last year as the reserve driver for Aston Martin, Seb wanted you to take his place after retirement.

"Yeah, its just so hot. And Henry's still making me do training" he complains.

"I know but think we got the ice bath's later!" you grin excited to have the ice bath. After a hot day of training it was like a reward. So you did your ball exercises and you did a track run for the media team. Afterwards you were about to lay down on the track ground but it was blistering when you put your hand to it.

"Tires are gonna get shredded" you complain a little out of breath to Jessie your personal trainer.

"Can we go get water and smoothies now?" You ask and Sid one of the media guys who had followed you around today nods. You guys get out of the sun before running into the garage and collecting as many people's orders from the garage as you can.

You bring everyone back what they wanted on a tray. Sid filmed you the whole time, so he could upload it to the Tik-Tok saying that the new Aston Martin waitress is pretty cool. And another one joking that you can always fall back on waitressing if F1 falls through which you found hilarious.

"Okay, Lance Y/N. Ice bath time!" Mike Krack informs you both. You go into your driver room changing into your bikini that'd you'd brought with you. You pull the Aston Martin polo back over, feeling as though it would be odd to walk out the back of the motorhome in a bikini.

You see the cameras on you and immediately smile. You go up very close to the camera.

"Hi guys, i felt awkward coming out in just my bikini so Aston Martin Representation!" you whisper before stepping back and poking your thumbs at your top to show them what you were talking about, as if it wasn't obvious.

Looking to your left, Lando, Oscar, Alex and Logan were also all doing icebaths out the back of the motorhome too.

"Looking good boys" you shout after wolf whistling in their direction, they all laugh having finished their icebaths coming over to you and Lance.

"Come on" Alex gestures you towards the ice bath. You roll your eyes pulling the top over your head and passing it to Alex, he steps back looking at the other three boys who are shamelessly staring at you.

You were the current youngest on the grid. 21 years old, so Oscar, Logan and Lando all took a liking to you, not only because of the age similarities but because of your sense of humor.

"Ready Lance, you ask your team-mate whose shirt was just pulled off and handed to Mike who was helping the social media team.

"Lets make this interesting. First to fully submerge wins"

"That's not exactly fair your from Canada...okay your on" you shout and before anyone can blink your jumping into the ice bath. Your up to your thighs before you watch as Lance starts to sink down. Not even thinking about the cold you just force your whole body down. You can feel the cold all around your hair as it floats up and you can feel the cold water on your eyelids.

You come back up with a gasped breath before looking over at all of them.

"Who won, it was me right?" you say with your eyes blown wide as Lance emerges.

"Yes, but your fucking crazy" Lando laughs looking at the smile that comes across your face.

"Hahaha Suck that Stroll! I win" you say looking over at him.

"Ohhh you know what we should do" you say looking over at the camera that was still pointed at you.

"We should do a thirst trap of me, so people can edit me on TikTok!" you exclaim and Oscar chokes, while Logan and Land laugh as your started to lean back in the bath, running your hands through you hair.

"Y/N how many times have we talked about this" Your PR manager exclaims trying to stop the admins from filming.

"Oh come on its what they want!" You exclaim.

After that night, you went out for food, a healthy meal of course that Lance payed for as the looser of the bet.

Friday First Practice was good, you'd come in 4th just behind the two Ferrari's and Max.

Qualifying was just as good, you were starting in 4th next to Lewis, with George and Max ahead of you for Sunday's race and that was locked in. It was exhausting, you were boiling but you pushed. Lance was angry with the car performance and got angry at Henry, you were shocked to see and hear what happened when you were still driving and scolded Lance, before nearly fainting from being dizzy.

Again, you did the ice bath dinner and slept.

Now to focus on Saturdays sprint. You did well in the first two sprint shoot outs. But ended up retiring the car in Q3, starting in 9th position.

You were so faint for the whole race. Today, it was hotter than all the other days. Your fireproof felt more clingy to your skin than usual and the water in the car was heating up quicker than it normally did.

At one point during the sprint race the water was so disgusting to drink you actually spat it out in your helmet on reflex.

You finished in 8th gaining 1 point for the team who congratulated you. You stayed in the car as you pulled into the garage for a minute before you stripped of in the garage down to tank top and your underwear. You sat on the cold garage floor, head in your hands as you panted, looking for breath.

A team member brought an orange juice up to you, tapping you on the shoulder to which you shake there hand and thank them for the gesture.

You sip it slowly, not wanting to gag like you had before.

"How you doing sweetheart" Mike comes up to you, everyone in the garage had reported to him, how red and beat up you look coming out the car. You look at him and nod.

"It's always been harder for me" you laugh looking up at him wiping the sweat from your forehead before it falls down into your eye.

"What do you mean?" he asks crouching down so he's at a similar level to you.

"I mean, you've probably never checked my medical papers right. And women struggle with heat more than men anyway but my body doesn't regulate its temperate that well... so I've always struggled with being hot in the car but this is next level" you sigh to him.

"Are you going to be okay to race. We can get Drugovich to fill" Mike says concern filling his face as he can tell your struggling from the speech pattern and labored breathing.

"No i promise I'll be okay and I'll bring us home points" you smile.

I'm going to go congratulate Oscar on his Sprint win. You smile before holding you hand out for help. He helps you up and you trot over to Mclaren pulling the taller male into a hug the minute you see him.

"You did amazingly Ozzie" you grin, still holding onto him.

"Hey! I did well as well" Lando interrupts and you roll you eyes before turning to look at the man baby behind you.

"Yes yes, well done on P3 Lando Norris" you grin pulling him towards you and hugging him. He hugs you back before lifting you and squeezing you making you groan at the harshly shown affection that you were used too.

"How you feeling about tomorrow starting P4?"

"I'm hoping for a podium with my boys" you grin, pulling them both in, one arm round each of them.

"With us starting P6 and P10. I doubt that" Oscar groans, knowing he stuffed up Qualifying the other day, along with his team mate.

"Never say never. Tomorrow's going to be a hard race for everyone"

Sunday was the day that everyone struggled as you'd said.

Max actually ended up crashing out, and after coming back on the track, the car didn't have the pace it had from the start of the weekend.

"Come on Y/N, win in rookie season will look amazing. Keep holding. You've got Oscar behind 2.3 seconds gaining and Lando behind him. 3 laps left" you engineer inform.

"Guys the heat's really getting to me" you voice but its barley recognizable through the radio.

"Not long left, just push until the end" the engineer says but his voice waivers, he could tell you were struggling but unlike Logan who retired early on, lap 40 and with only three laps left there was no point especially when you were this close to a win.

"I - I know" you waiver, you control the car, speeding up trying to get this done as quickly as possible.

Martin Bundle - AND IN HER ROOKIE SEASON Y/N Y/L/N IS THE WINNER OF THE 2023 QATAR GRAND PRIX

"Guy's I need to get out this car now" you cry, tears forming in your eyes.

"Okay copy that"

"I cant move" you cry, the only thing that was able to move from your body was your hands which were shaking.

"We're sending pit crew to help" your engineer says. You see race marhsalls come up to your car, where Oscar and Land pull up alongside you. They both jump out hugging their team who were stood their waiting for them both. They turn to congratulate you thinking you'd be there next to them with the Aston Martin team but see you still sat in the car.

"Oh my god, she's shaking" Oscar says looking closer at you.

"She's in shock, from the heat" Lando says running over Oscar behind him.

"Y/N hey hey hey. Its okay its okay" Lando says flicking up your visor so he could see you. He honestly could have cried at the sight. He saw you looking so exhausted and out of it, the tears in you eyes and the sweat underneath them mixed.

"Come on baby lets get you out" Oscar voices, pulling Lando back by the shoulder and leaning down into the car, putting his arms under your knees and the other behind your back before lifting and pulling you out the car.

"Can we get a cold towel over here" Lando shouts which makes your head dizzy. Oscar sits you on the car wheel, pulling your helmet off, and then your balaclava. You were extremely red in the face but he still thought you were the prettiest girl he'd ever seen.

So did Lando, he had for a while, and he would always flirt with you when you were the reserve Aston Martin driver. But he cared for you, and seeing you like this pulled at his heart strings.

"You did so well today darling" he compliments. He pulls back your hair that was sticking to your face, doing it in a low bun so it wasn't tight but was out of your face and off your neck.

Lando unzips your race suit, pulling it down off your shoulders so your in your fireproof top before laying the cooling towel around you neck.

"Just breath" he smiles at you handing you and Oscar an icy bottle of water than was handed to him by his team. They got you to the cool down room where you sat on the floor with your back against the wall and your cheek resting on the cold marble.

"Great race guys. Said I'd have a podium with my... my boys" you smile, before you feel the urge to throw up. You get on your knees grabbing the bin before spilling the food you'd eaten before the race into the bin. Oscar sits next to you rubbing your back.

"Come on lets go get weighed" Lando sighs. Oscar goes first, the you and Lando watches the figure seeing you'd lost a whole 6 kilograms which meant that you'd lost 9 over the whole weekend. He, Oscar and Logan would all have to go out for a big meal to all put the weight back on.

The podium was amazing, first place and sharing a podium with Lando and Oscar had never felt better. It was a shorter podium as they wanted all of you to seek medical attention. You were eventually declared to have heatstroke and were forced on home rest in a nice a/c-ed room and lost of Peach Ice Tea's.

One thing for sure was you never wanted to race in Qatar as this time of the year again.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle

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mountrainiernps · 19 days ago

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NPS/K. Bacher Photo of a fisher being released at Mount Rainier National Park in 2016.

World Wildlife Day recognizes the importance of recovering endangered species, an essential part of conserving and restoring healthy ecosystems. Historically a common species in Washington, fishers (Pekania pennanti) were over-trapped to extinction due to their highly valuable fur. Fishers are a medium sized carnivore belonging to the weasel family. Known for their skillful and ferocious hunting, fishers are the only animal able to effectively predate porcupines. The Cascades Fisher Reintroduction Project was successfully able to translocate 170 fishers from Canada to the Washington Cascades, including 81 fishers into the Southern Cascades around Mount Rainier. Reproduction was documented in both the North and South Cascades within two years of release, and survival through a breeding season was high in both areas. Some animals were located enough times to determine that a home range had likely been established.

NPS Photo of a fisher.

The success of this project is due to the collaboration and participation of many project partners including the Washington Department of Fish and Wildlife, Conservation Northwest, Calgary Zoo, Northwest Trek, Point Defiance Zoo and Aquarium, expert trappers, and many others.

Learn more about fisher reintroduction at https://go.nps.gov/FisherReintroduction.

#World Wildlife Day #Mount Rainier National Park #Fisher #endangered species #wildlife

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multifandomfanficss · 7 months ago

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Don’t Stop My Heart

Tyler Owens x Reader

Prompt: You and Tyler take a road trip up to Iowa to catch some of the last tornadoes of the season, but he takes the teasing a little too far.

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, mentions of car crashes, swerving, shitty ex boyfriends. No use of Y/N.

A/N: Hello! I didn’t proofread this one as many times as I usually do. I’m coming off a 4 and a half month writers block so I really just wanted to write and post while I was excited to do it. My job has been draining me as of late, so I’m trying to write when I get the impulse. I have so many Tyler ideas and no time to write them. Crossposted on my AO3 adriansglasses.

It was still fairly early, the sun was still rising. Last night you’d planned an impromptu trip up north to Iowa. It was about a 7 hour trip from Oklahoma, so you were on the road before 6. You were hoping to get there around noon. You didn’t love getting up that early, but Tyler promised he’d drive you and you could sleep in the truck. Tornado season was pretty much over aside from an isolated storm or two, but Iowa had been having very unusual storm activity all week. Tyler couldn’t resist hitting a couple more tornadoes in late August when the season was supposed to be pretty much over with.

You stayed awake for a little bit. You wanted to watch as you crossed into Missouri.

“Missouri welcomes you.” Tyler reads out loud.

“Yes! Finally!” You giggle.

“I didn’t realize you were such a big fan of Missouri.” Tyler comments.

“Oh, I’m not.” You pause, looking out your window.

“First you’re hypin’ her up, now you’re gonna disappoint her.” He jokes.

“I’m sorry, I’m sure Missouri’s fine, but I’m more excited about that.” You point to a Hardee’s down the street.

“Really? We’re crossin’ state lines and you’re gonna make me take you to Hardee’s? You can get Carl’s Jr. anytime you want back home. That’s basically the same thing.” He argues.

“Take that back! You’re just saying that because you’re a Texas boy! You’ve never had the luxury of Hardee’s.” You joke.

“If Carl’s Jr. is better, I’m not letting you pick where we eat for the rest of the trip.” Tyler puts on his turn signal and sighs.

“How is that fair? I’ve never eaten at this location. What if it sucks?” You laugh.

“You picked your Hardee’s hill and now you’re gonna die on it. Now keep your trap closed and tell me what’s good on the menu.” Tyler makes a pretend threatening face towards you as he pulls into the drive thru.

“How am I supposed to not talk and at the same time tell you what’s good?” You tease back.

“Hi welcome to Hardee’s, may I take your order?” The drive thru speaker cuts you off. Tyler shushes you and you giggle.

After getting your food you start unwrapping the straws and putting them in both drinks.

“Whatever score we give this we need to give it extra points to account for how good the curly fries would be if they were serving lunch.” You try to bargain, taking a bite.

“No, you can’t just change the rules after we already got our food, that’s cheating. Just because you’re from the north, doesn’t mean you can cheat me.” He argues. He continues driving, leaving behind the paved roads of the small town.

“You’re acting like I’m Canadian!” You giggle.

“Well, Upper Midwest is basically Canada. There’s literally a town in Iowa called Toronto!” He smirks, taking the last bite of his food, continuing to drive through the middle of nowhere Missouri, back onto the gravel roads through the soybean fields.

“Shut up!” You playfully hit his arm. He jokingly swerves and your stomach flips. You gasp air. “Tyler, knock it off.”

“You’re the one who hit me.” He pleas innocent.

“I didn’t hit you that hard.” You defend.

“I thought you were gonna sleep on the drive.” He says, smirking.

“I might later, I’m not tired.” You answer, falling for his bit. He does a big fake yawn.

“Well if you’re not tired, I might take a little nap.” He lightly swerves again.

“Tyler, this isn’t funny!” You plead.

“What? Oh. Do you mind watching the road? We woke up so early and I’m pretty tired.” He jokes before swerving again. He’s taking the joke way too far. Once was one thing, twice was too much. You start hyperventilating.

“Tyler, STOP!” You yell, tears starting to come to your eyes.

“Woah woah woah, sweetheart, it’s okay. I’m sorry. I’ll stop.” He has a concerned look on his face. He knew he had taken it too far.

“It’s not funny.” You cry.

“You’re right, it’s not funny. I would never-a done it if I’d known it would make you feel unsafe. I do it all the time on chases and that don’t seem to bother you. I didn’t realize-“

“That’s different! The roads and the fields when there’s no storms are different! We’re on an actual road! What- what if there were other people?! What if you hit somebody?! What if a sherif saw?!” You say, obviously still panicking. Tyler decides to pull over.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I was way outta line, but we’re in the middle of nowhere. There’s no cars or tractors around. We’re safe.” His voice is soft. “Just breathe, Darlin’. Just you and me.” He takes your hand, rubbing small circles in it. “I feel bad. I wanted a reaction outta you, but not like this. I never want you to feel unsafe with me.”

“I know.” You were still struggling to breathe. Tyler places your hand on his chest to feel the rise and fall of his breathing. He hopes you can sync yours with his own.

“Take it easy, sweetheart. You’re okay. Feel me breathing? We’re both okay.” He places a kiss to your forehead.

“I’m sorry… it’s not you. When I was in high school I had a crazy ex boyfriend who used to swerve in town just to scare me because he knew I was afraid of car crashes. He almost killed us a couple times, I think. I guess no matter how much time’s passed, dumb high school bullshit still affects me into my adult years.”

“Hey, that’s not okay. It’s not dumb bullshit. It’s trauma.” You lean over the console to be closer to him and he wraps his arms around you. “I would never put you in danger like that for the sake of a joke.” You could tell his blood was boiling on the inside, but he was trying to keep himself calm. He didn’t want to upset you more. He knew this was about you feeling better, not him.

“We gotta get going if we wanna try to make it by 1.” You wipe your tears.

“I don’t care how long we’re pulled over. Hell, we can even turn around if you’re not up to anymore. I don’t care about the chase. I care about you.” He moves your hair out of your face. “I can call the rest of the team and tell them to turn around right now or go without us.”

“What happened to Mr. If You Feel It, Chase It?” You joke, trying to lighten the mood. He looks into your eyes. You don’t know if you’ve ever seen him so serious.

“The only feeling that matters is the one I get when I’m with you.“

Tears start creeping up again. These tears aren’t bad, though.

“Tyler, I’m in love with you.” It just slips out, like the easiest confession you’ve ever made in your life. You both knew there was something there, but neither one of you were willing to say it. It had always been heavy flirting, awkward mornings after cuddling in the only bed left at the motel, a drunk kiss or two.

After a moment of staring in silence Tyler kisses you. Everything happened in slow motion, but in truth it was probably just the adrenaline slowing everything down. Tyler wasted no time in kissing you. It was the quickest decision he’s ever made. You don’t know how long the kiss was. Whatever it was, it wasn’t enough. Nothing would ever be enough. You’d swear off oxygen for the rest of your life if it meant this moment never had to end. You’d been pinning after your best friend for so long and finally the moment was here.

“I’m so glad you said something because you’re one of the best navigators I know and I really didn’t wanna risk losing you from the team by telling you I was in love with you.” Tyler laughs.

“Is that the only reason you didn’t tell me?” You ask.

“No, I was scared. Losing you from the team would be a bummer, but I couldn’t lose you from my life. We see a lot of loss in this business. Whenever I thought about it, the thing I couldn’t stand to lose most was you.” He runs his fingers through your hair, moving to cup your cheek.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

It was nice to finally say it. You’d waited a long time to tell him.

“Let’s get back on the road. This time just don’t stop my heart.” You give a small laugh.

“You’re safe with me.”

“I know. You’re not like those other guys, Ty.”

You hold hands and rest on his other arm as he drives. He’s lucky he’s good at driving with one hand because he’s happy to see about 30 minutes later you’ve finally fallen asleep. Today was going to be a long day, but Tyler knew forcing the team to wake up so early was worth it. He may have had to bribe Boone 20 bucks to drive the other car up with Lily, but at least he didn’t have a third wheel sitting in the back seat. Tyler didn’t get a lot of alone time with you. Now he had 7 hours of it. It was worth it.

#tyler owens #tyler owens x reader #twisters #twisters fanfic #twisters fanfiction #twisters oneshot #Tyler Owens fanfiction #tyler Owens fanfic #tyler owens oneshot #tyler owens imagine #twisters imagine #glen powell #glen powell fanfic #Glen Powell fanfiction #Glen powell oneshot #glen powell x reader #twister #twisters 2024

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doyoulikethissong-poll · 7 months ago

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Lil Nas X featuring Billy Ray Cyrus - Old Town Road 2019

"Old Town Road" is the debut mainstream single by American rapper Lil Nas X, first released independently in December 2018. After gaining popularity, the single was re-released in March 2019. The rapper also recorded a remix with American country singer Billy Ray Cyrus, which was released on April 5, 2019. Both were included on Lil Nas X's second EP, 7 (2019). Dutch record producer YoungKio composed the instrumental and made it available for purchase online in 2018. It features a sample of "34 Ghosts IV" by the American industrial rockband Nine Inch Nails. The sample was placed behind trap-style Roland TR-808 drums and bass. Lil Nas X purchased the instrumental for US$30 and recorded "Old Town Road" in one day.

The song reached number 19 on the Billboard Hot Country Songs chart before the magazine disqualified it from the chart on the grounds that it did not "fit" the genre, sparking a debate on what constitutes the "definition" of country music. Though "Old Town Road" did not re-enter any country charts, both versions of the song collectively peaked at number 1 on the main Billboard Hot 100, remaining at the top for a record-breaking 19 consecutive weeks; the remix peaked at number 50 on Billboard's Country Airplay chart. "Old Town Road"'s overall run at number one is the longest in chart history, surpassing the previous record of sixteen weeks achieved by both "One Sweet Day" (poll #296) and "Despacito". One or more versions of "Old Town Road" have topped the national singles charts in Australia, Canada, France, Germany, Ireland, the Netherlands, New Zealand, Norway, Switzerland and the UK, and have charted in the top 10 in various other international markets.

The song was certified diamond by the RIAA in October 2019 for selling 10 million total units in the US, the fastest song to be certified diamond. At the 62nd Annual Grammy Awards, the remix featuring Billy Ray Cyrus was nominated for Record of the Year and won Best Pop Duo/Group Performance and Best Music Video. In September 2021, the song set the record for the second-highest certified song in history by the RIAA, at 16× platinum in the US - meaning it accumulated 16 million equivalent song units. The single has sold over 18 million copies worldwide, making it one of the best-selling singles of all time.

"Old Town Road" received a total of 80,6% yes votes!

youtube

#finished #high yes #10s #o1 #o1 sweep #o1 ultrasweep #lo24 #lo2 #lo4 #lil nas x #english

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thevoidstaredback · 8 months ago

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True to their word, the second the sun finished setting over Amity Park, Illinois, the ghosts fled the town.

This presented several problems. The most pressing of which was the fact that they now had a Missing Persons case to deal with where the prime suspects have just fled the area. The second problem was that the Justice League had no way of tracking any of the ghosts.

Superman had cleared all of the US Bases in Europe, Asia, Australia, and Africa. The Flash had managed to clear all the US Gov. Bases in every state East of Idaho, Utah, and Arizona. No leads anywhere.

The ghosts were quiet as they left the town. So quiet, in fact, that the only reason the Justice League and the two accompanying JLD members even knew they were leaving was because they saw them leaving. And even then, they'd been fading out of visibility, so they'd had to rely on Red Huntress's confirmation that they were leaving.

Robin had taken his team, Young Justice, into the town to work rescue and touch base with Red Huntress in person. They were also given the charge on looking for Daniel Fenton. Just because the primary suspects had fled didn't mean that the trail was cold.

"Do we have any way to track them yet?" Batman honest to god growled to Constantine and Zatanna.

Constantine, honest to god, growled back. "Not since you last asked two minutes ago!"

"Lay off, B!" Zatanna snapped, "We're doing our best, and your hovering isn't helping!"

The Dark Knight switched bases, tuning his comm back to listen to Superman and The Flash. "Any luck, you two?"

"Nope," Superman sighed, "I'm just finishing up in Alaska and Canada. There's not even a hint as to the US Gov. knowing anything about magic, let alone another dimension." There was a brief pause. "I'm heading down to Africa next."

Batman grunted in response, filing the information away. Whoever was covering these tracks was good. Way better than the US. Government usually was. They could've outsourced, but they're not that stupid. "Flash?"

"Nothing on my end," he whispered back, "I've just finished checking Idaho, Utah, and Arizona; I'm in Nevada now. I'll be heading down to SoCal before moving up to finish in Washington."

Again, Batman grunted his affirmation. How were these guys staying so hidden? And how were they keeping a ghost trapped? Hopefully, they'd managed to corner the people they were looking for. If not, well, he didn't think there was time to do another sweep of the world. It's been a day already, and a lot can happen in a day. A lot more can happen in two days. Three is pushing it. Any more than three days and they risk an actual war, more than they already are.

Batman didn't sigh as he switch comm channels again. "Nightwing."

"Batman." Nightwing responded with equal stoneyness.

"Anything to report?"

"There's no Government bases in Bludhaven. Not official, not shady. I've been over the entire city twice now."

"Let me know if that changes."

"Fuck off."

He switched channels again. "Oracle, anything on your end?"

"Nothing," she answered, "Nothing in Gotham that needs your attention, though there are rumors about another Arkham break happening within the next week. As for your JL case? Also nothing. Though, there is a weird firewall around pretty much any information around Amity Park that I can't get through."

"Turn in for now, Oracle, I'll have Cyborg take a look at the firewall."

"Alright, B. Goodnight." She clicked off, but Batman knew she wouldn't be turning in for a few hours.

Batman switched back to his empty channel. Before deciding against it and connecting to Robin. "Report."

There was a few seconds before Robin answered. "Other than Daniel 'Danny' Fenton, everyone else in town is accounted for. All of the ghosts are gone. We tried to get a look at the rifts that Z and Constantine mentioned, but Jasmine Fenton - Daniel's older sister - won't let even her parents near it. Did you know that it's in their basement? What a stupid-"

"Robin."

"Right. We don't know where the second rift is, but there's nothing coming from either of them. I think it's safe to assume that nothing else is going to be coming out right now."

"Red Huntress?"

"Is running recon with Superboy over the town. They'll be back in a few minutes."

"And the rest of you?"

"We're at Town Hall."

"Good. Daniel?"

"His trail's cold. Jasmine Fenton was the last of his family to see him yesterday, but that's all we've gotten from her or her parents. We did manage to find two of his friends, Samantha 'Sam' Manson and Tucker Foley, but they claim to have not seen him since yesterday afternoon."

"You believe them?"

"Hard not to. We don't really have much to go on other than 'missing boy that no one has seen in nearly twenty-four hours'. And with no peaceful way to look at either dimension rift, we're a bit stuck."

Batman hummed. "Keep working on it." He switched back into his open channel.

Robin had specified that there was no 'peaceful' way of looking into the rifts. Without the ghosts, then the only things in the way were Jasmine Fenton and the unknown location of the second rift. He could break into the Fenton residence and incapacitate Jasmine to look at it, but he'd have no idea what to look for. Sneaking Zatanna or Constantine in with him will be too hard to be convenient.

"Zatanna?" he asked.

The magician was obviously beyond irritated, but she responded. "What."

"Do you know where the two rifts are?"

"Under the Fenton house and under the mayor's house, why?"

"Hm." Interesting. Why does the mayor have a rift under his house? It doesn't excuse either of them, but the Fenton's have made it because they're ghost hunters. What does the mayor need one for? He called Cyborg. "I need you to crack the firewall over information from Amity Park Illinois."

"Anything else?"

"Look into the town's mayor for me."

"Got it, Batman."

Part 4 Part 6

#Time Loop: Ghosts of the Present and Future #part 5 #dcxdp #dc x dp #dcu #danny phantom #writing #my writing #justice league #justice league dark

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bahngnxxx · 1 month ago

Text

୧ ‧₊🎧 No turning back once we’re connected.

Dentist bangchan x !f!paitent

author's note: I was at the dentist and I was sleepy asf, but then this fineass doctor came in and absolutely PENATRATED my mouth with his hands and that got me thinking about bangchan, since earlier i was watching thirst traps before entering the appointment lol. Im ovulating so i jus wanna get straight to the smut... pls spare me, this is my first fic. Ill write better ones, not just pure smut. TmT Anygays, enjoy!!

word count: 5.3k

warnings: (NOT PROOF RED) p in v (unprotected, NAURRR) vaginal creampie, multiple orgasms, fem overstimulation, nipple pinching/biting, biting overall, vaginal fingering, eating out (both fxm), dirty talk, slight sadism, spanking, squirting, possible impregnation, dry humping, a bit of piss, clitplay.. Too lazy to list anymore. Lmk if sumn catches your eye, but overall this is just a really filthy one.🤷‍♀️

A cold, chilling woosh of air hits you, the automatic doors swinging open, the gentle cool breeze of the AC brushing against your skin, causing a slight grow of goosebumps against you. You clocked in at the entrance for your first dentist appointment after 3 months of being abroad, so the difference between the humid air of palm springs and the cool contrasting air of Canada really didn’t sit well with you. You were still jetlagged too, so maybe you could shut your eyes during your appointment, I don’t think the doctor would mind. You don’t think you could keep your eyes open for any longer, anyways.

You gently sat down on a coach in the distance. You had booked an appointment down near the south, suburb corner of town. The places lounge was small, crowded, but managed to still have a nice cozy essence to it, a tv table at front, small beige couches stacked all around, plants and trees hanging off from the wooden plated walls and light spruce floors, the scent of minty Colgate mixed with a fresh smell of coffee filling the lounge. You nuzzled into the pale couch, scrolling away on your phone to some k-pop thirst traps on your free time, adjusting the bra strap that hung out of your off shouldered white sweater, clinging around your curves slightly, your body slumped down lazily, legs spread out shamelessly, until a doctor had called out for you, startling you. You stood up straight, brushing off yourself before bowing down apologetically, following the lady down a long hall, until you had arrived to the room.

As usual, the room was white like an asylum, a long chair centered in the middle of the chaos, a large light gazing over it as well as a tv attached to the ceiling. There was a crack of golden sunlight peeking through the room, giving a nice crisp color to it. You laid down onto the seat as the doctor told you to, and did the average things like plucking and tapping at your teeth with a bunch of pointy gadgets, blah blah, the usual. She then nodded and went outside the room, assumingly calling your new doctor.

Ever since you had switched to the southern side of town, and doing things, there seemed to be a lot of Koreans working in the area, not that you were complaining, and you had a suspicion for your new doctor. He went by Chris, or Christopher, but you did a little digging to catch a glimpse of the name ‘Bang Chan’ and that unleashed a fantasy in you, so you’d hope that you would get a nice Korean doctor. You were single and in your mid-twenties anyways, it’s time you’d find a partner.

You heard some shuffling in the halls, and they approached closer before a black heeled shoe entered the room, then another, and then he popped into the room. A man who looked a year or two older then you, his hair a crisp black and middle parted, going down to his neck, slightly shaggy and curly, his eyes wide and kind, but also so seducing in a way, his nose larger than usual and a diamond piercing on one side, as well as small hoops in his ears and a chain around his thick slender neck, and oh my gosh, he had his coat off, and had this BODY CLENCHING black shirt on, revealing the massive tits and curved abs he had. His lips were large and plump, nothing like you’ve seen before, his tongue slightly out as his eyes slowly crept their way towards your gaze, his mouth crinkling into a jaw dropping smile, dimples forming on both sides of his cheeks, his aegyo Sal puffing up and his eyes wrinkling on the sides as he did. His eyes formed to small crescents as he smiled, a kind twinkle in them. HOLY FUCK.

Your jaw was dropped. You sat there on the long chair, your body hunched over as you stared at him with wide eyes, you looked like an idiot, honestly. He let out a breathless chuckle as he walked over to you, spinning the scaler perfectly in between his gloved, veiny hands. “So how’ya doing today?”

He spoke in a deep, but kind voice, with a rich Australian accent. You let out a stuttered, shy response as he pumped the seat downwards until you were lying flat, his face towering over yours, only his eyes visible now, the mask covering the rest. “U-uh yeah, I’m good.. How about you..?”

He smiled back down at you, his chest heaving over your head as he moved the strands of messy hair off of your face, sending heat through your abdomen through your stomach. It felt like there were butterflies—no, birds flying in your stomach. You bit on your lower lip, as he set a gentle thumb on your chin. “Hmm, pretty good, thanks. How ‘bout you open wide for me, yeah?”

and you almost immediately followed his command, widening your jaw, a line of spit against your tongue and tooth. Two of his fingers entered your jaw, coated in your spit as he pressed down on your tongue lightly. You were ovulating too, so this didn’t make it any better at all. You held back a whimper, fighting demons against yourself. You fidgeted with your hands below your lap, curling your feet upwards, and he could sense your nervousness, letting out small breathy laughs. “Good girl, relax. I’m not gonna eat’chya.”

and again, immediately, your body loosened--almost a little too much—going limp and melting under his words. There was a calm jazz playing over the radio, the crisp golden sunlight hitting his blazing eyes, and ever so lightly brushing against his black, curled locks.

All through his work, he didn’t seem to be paying attention to your mouth, not at all, honestly. He just kept staring into your eyes, his eyes crinkled up ever so slightly, meaning that he must still have a smile under his face. He just wouldn’t stop smiling, it staying, his intense gaze remaining on you as he tapped on each of your teeth, his fingers tracing around your mouth, exploring it. His eyes just got heavier and heavier on you, narrowing slightly down subtly before he stood up and grabbed those mini mirror things up from a shelf, unwrapping it from its shell and discarding of the flimsy plastic before he shone that damn light from above onto you, blinding you. You squinted at the light before looking back at him. He provided some sort of shadow from the light, so you relied on staring at him back, since you didn't really have any other choice.

The wind outside started to densen up, the once sunny outside sending a dark shadow through the room, the dim lamp now being your only support of light. You hated the light at first, but now you were holding onto your dear life with it. You don’t think you could survive farther then 5 more minutes, or you would go wild. You clenched your thighs shut tight, which he immediately and shamelessly switched his attention to. His eyes narrowed further at your legs, his seducing gaze running up and down them. Theres no way that your dentist is doing this. No way hes checking you out, but no matter how much you denied it, he totally was. He looked back up at you, now only one of his eyes crinkled, his eyebrow cocked up. “Something bothering you?”

he spoke in a low, more breathy tone now, taking his hands out of your mouth and sliding his gloves off, his veiny hands now clear to you. You breathe caught in your throat as you let out a shakey response.

“You.” you whispered; you don’t know why you said that. You slapped a hand over your mouth, your eyes slightly wide, cheeks turning red, and almost immediately, Chan smiled deviously, removing his mask and closing the door behind him, sitting back on the wheelie chair, spinning back to you, his hands now levitating over your chest. “Hm? What was that? Couldn’t quite hear you.”

You let out a hitched breath, your eyes fluttering shut halfway as your back arched towards his hands until you were now sitting up, lodged up against the chair in a restrained position, both his veiny slender forearms propped up in the crevasses of your waist. “Gettin’ comfy, hm? If you want it, say it.”

“P-please Bang Chan.”

he let out that deep, incredibly sexy chuckle, smooth as butter, and almost instantly did your panties fill with a gush of arousal. With that, his final strings of restraint tore apart, his mouth drifting over to yours, his lips lush against your thirsted tongue. He fought a rough battle with your mouth, his tongue darting delving deeper into you, exploring every inch of your wet throat, his fingers now grazing over and under your thick sweater, pulling your shirt up with a swipe as he unclipped your bra with one veiny hand, still working at your mouth. His rough thumbs drifting over your plump bottom lip, extending your jaw for deeper access. His lips parted away from yours, his breath growly and panting before he looked up at you with that damned, deep dimpled grin, his mouth leaving a wet trail down your chin and neck, to your collarbone and straight to the cleavage of your breasts, the tips of his fingers slowly making its way to your tits, curling around the velvety, thick material.

You let out a high-pitched whine—near a yelp as you bucked your breasts up toward his hands, another quick gush of arousal filling your already soaked panties. “F-fuck Chris--.. what if.. We get caught...?”

he looked up at you, his mouth still latched at you like a leech, with wide eyes, almost innocent looking despite the situation, but quickly they narrowed to those same teasing eyes as he hooked off you, a string of spit on his tongue that dribbled down the cleavage of your boobs. He silently brought a finger to his mouth, shushing you before he slowly led his soft puckered mouth to your tit, his breathe hot against your hardened, perked up brown patch. He agonizingly brought his tongue around it, his lips curling around the tip of it as he suckled on your soft breast. You couldn’t help but let out small squeals as he licked and slurped at you, his free hand sliding down the side of your waist and to your small pretty jeaned up pussy, clenching the fat top layer before a finger slid slick into your folds, the outline of your throbbing clit palpable through the thick fabric. Your hips buckled towards his fingers in a desperate attempt for some sort of friction, his slender calloused hands curling up into your aching core through the fabric, his plump lips latching off your nipples with a soft moan. He soothed the aching sensation on your nips with a few gentle kisses as he pulled off your shirt, you were bare and had those porn star like tits. Not too big, but perky and rounded for sure. He led his hungered gaze over them. “So pretty.”

he breathed out. The soon admiring gaze snapped back to in between your legs, you were clamping them shut against his hands, needily grinding and humping against him. He popped his hand from between your heat and with one swift motion, picked you up from the chair and SAT in it HIMSELF. You were about to scoff before he pulled you onto his lap, in the type of position where your perfect little ass was laid above his muscular thighs, your legs straddling him from both sides, his dick standing straight up right before your camel toed pussy, your cheeks tinting a bright rosey red. “Move those hips pretty girl. Need your clit rubbing ‘gainst me, yeah?”

you are NOT his strongest solider because holy shit, the way this man has spells over you.. You start to transfer your heavy hips atop his and grinding downwards to his cock, but he lets out a ‘tch’ and holds your love handles to stop you from moving. “This won’t do. Need you in those pretty pink panties.”

now how the hell did he know what color it was? Whatever, and with a huff you start to unzip those tight jeans from off your legs until your pants were on the floor. His own slacks met yours on the floor in a crumpled mess, and God was it huge, full of girth and length, it was dying to be released from the boxers, like a huge water bottle in his garments.

You were so turned on, you knew exactly the feeling, you needed him now. You were a hot mess, you wanted and needed him so quickly and without much thought, you sat back on his lap, trying to put your embarrassment aside, you sat down facing him, with your legs in the air on either side of the chair, Chan was surprised and felt so delightful your weight on his erection, he didn’t think you were going to position yourself like that but you left him absolutely charmed. You were dealing with the bulge between his pants pressing against your pussy. He was so hard, you could feel it if only through the slightly thick, rough cotton of his black garments. Just the thought of seeing his cock made your skin bristle with excitement. And suddenly, a wave of confidence hit you, a little too strong like a slap in the face, and now you were gliding your flaps perfectly through his shaft, apparent through boxers. You could feel the way the hard girth pulsated and pushed into your wet entrance even through the fabric, the mix of his precum in his shorts and your slick making it intoxicating and barely bare able. As the grinding of yours against him got more intense, small pants left his parted lips, hips bucking up often with every push of your pussy down against him.

Chan moaned, letting out soft, melodic “A-aah, mmnh..” and then he raised his gaze, staring into your eyes, causing you to shiver at his lustful stare. “Fuck, look at you moving for me like that, keep doing what ‘your doing, just like that.. So good, love.” he licked his lips, leveling his face with yours, talking to you in such a sultry tone that it made your cheeks hot. You were so pathetically horny and starved that you were enjoying to the fullest-- bouncing on Chan’s cock under the hard cotton, pressing all over your pussy, your labia, moving them nimbly that it made you blur your vision.

“God yeah-- you’re doing so good, beautiful.” His voice aroused you more and more bringing you so close to your orgasm, you were so concentrated in the sensation of your movements on his cock, you couldn’t stop, you moved your hips and Chan helped you with his hands squeezing your waist, guiding your every hump; you felt so hot and trapped, so desperate to get your clothes off but you didn’t want to stop, you weren’t going to stop until you were tired, it was as if you had no choice but to climax right now, just like this, and under his gaze it was physically impossible, flushed and sweaty, eager, watching you with keen, firey eyes. Chan was sighing and straining to make you feel good at the same time you were making him feel that effect on him, squeezing his cock so hard, expelling precum and not so far from his ejaculation.

Chris bit his lower lip and caught your mouth again, touching your restless and desperate body, he was about to cum. You were starting to get tired but it was a tiredness so inexplicably pleasurable, your chest was burning from the constant strong heartbeat. You were at your limit and you were doing almost nothing, but both of you were a mess of heaving breaths, Chan didn’t want to change anything about you either at that moment, he just squeezed you tightly enjoying every movement until he cum inside his underwear, in a gasp, throwing his head back, feeling one pressure release pleasantly but another coming so abruptly and quickly not wanting to finish yet with you. You held onto his shoulders tightly, pressed your legs into his body, Chan knew you were close so he encouraged you, with a kiss on your mouth half open and words that warmed even your ears. “Go on, cum, princess, let yourself go… Cum for me.”

You gasped in despair and a little high-pitched moan, you cum all over your panties, leaving you flushed, breathless and with your pussy sticky. Seconds later you wanted to catch your breath, you still felt immobile before his big hands squeezing your body, you were at levels of agitation you didn’t think you’d reach in the near future with another guy. He was so the one, no matter a side chick from a new dentist you just met, you’d be booking appointments weekly with the daily pathetic excuse of tooth aches. That's one way to go.

One orgasm down, so many more to go, left a sloppy panting mess atop him, he gently carries you until you're sitting at the side of the chair, on the edge, legs spread wide, head in a daze, not a care in your eyes until the sensation of his cold hands hits your underwear – a loss of warmth but a new sensation. Only when you look down is when you catch the concentrated man on his knees for you, peeling off your pink panties and licking the slick off of it so none went to waste, letting out an approving hum.

“You taste so fucking good.”

Chan said it, in such a thick voice so lost in the image of your pussy. You were a hot trembling mess, letting out a shuddered moan as you felt his warm, full lips on the skin of your plump mons pubis, giving you kisses and leaving little hickeys down his way until his mouth took your clit, making you squeal; you were beginning to relax and let yourself be carried away by the tingling of the tip of his index finger caressing your soft, moist vulva, playing with your wetness, until two of his fingers teased your entrance until he inserted his fingers, while his mouth never let go of your sensitive spot, licking and sucking it gently, causing you pleasure and the beginning of trembling in your legs.

Chan fucked you gently and deeply for a few moments, teasing you and reaching sweet places inside your tight pussy, but he withdrew his fingers from you, positioned both his hands on your thighs, squeezing them gently and began to move his mouth all the way down your vulva, licking the right places, sucking delightfully on your labia and filling himself with you, from his chin to his nose, so focused working on you. You felt so hot, and he looked so good eating you out while you were a panting mess, arching your back and being pleasured. Your slick dripped its way down his chin, covering his faces with your whipped up, once clear but now creamy and sweet juices. “Fuck," He groaned out, lapping up and sucking at your clit, then going back down to collect your juices.

You were close, again, your hips stuttering against his plump lips as he alternated from eating your pussy to sucking at your clit. He could feel the way your hips bucked up, the way your needy pussy clenched around his tongue, before with one last suck of your vagina, he slid up and started going savage onto your clit, opening his mouth with a wide grin, flicking his tongue against you as he plunged two fingers, slick with spit inside of your already seeping pussy, thrusting in and out and curling his fingers up in a way that was sure to drive you over the edge, and so it did, a mix of juices and release spewing all over his fingers, up to the muscles of his forearms, squealing out his name in a desperate moan.

“Chris- chrischris—c-christopher!! Cumming!!”

He stared at you in awe and immense pleasure, cock twitching in his boxers as he witnessed your climax, shaking and trembling, heartbeat pounding, sweat dripping, hot and messy flushed face, hips bucking up so high he could have sworn he was seeing stars, and before you knew it the sound of fabric sliding down filled your sensitive, worn-out ears, and a deep sensation hit your overstimulated pussy.

Within seconds, as you came down from your haze, you were immediately sent back to that trance but so much deeper as his girthed cock unmercifully pounded its way deep into your pussy, kissing your cervix with every deep thrust. His hips slam against yours as he slides back in, you're so warm and wet around him that he's losing his mind. He's like a rabbit in heat as he moves his hips, harder and harder, his balls hitting your ass and the sounds that leaves your lips encourages him more. One minute you have your legs wrapped around his waist pulling him deeper and the next your legs are against your chest as Chan's large hands are on the back of your thighs as he slams his hips against yours again. He's hypnotized. Your pussy sucking in dick so well, and you're taking it like a good girl too. Tears falling from your eyes and words leave your lips but he doesn't really understand what you're saying. The word daddy leaves your lips, and you chant it over and over.

You felt so full, his dick filling you up so nicely and you honestly believe that you could cum just like this. And the way the tip of his head hits your sweet spot it makes you feel on cloud nine. Thrusting into you with a sharp hit of his hips, and you internally cringe at yourself for hiccupping at the force. “G-god-!!” is all you manage to say as he continues slamming his hips into you at a painfully slow pace, looking you dead in the eye as you crumble beneath his intense gaze.

gripping at his biceps and biting your lip as an attempt to keep your moans in, but the little whimpers and whines end up spilling out anyway. You can feel Chan's cock twitch inside you every time you say yes for him, especially with the way your walls are throbbing around his length as he groans the words “good girl” in the midst of it all.

“So so good for me,” he continues, grinding his hips in a way that makes his pelvis graze your clit rhythmically, and you’re sure you’re seeing stars once his hand finds your neck, just resting it there to get your attention. “W-want you to fill me up so bad,” you whimper, and he lets a groan out right after you… one that makes your stomach flutter with emotions given how beautiful it sounded.

“Channie--” you blabber out pathetically, your own mouth filling with saliva at how amazing he’s making you feel right now. “P-please-!!” you cry out, and it’s a weak cry. He finally lets his lips find yours in a needy kiss, and a string of spit keeps y’all together as he breaks away to let out a moan of his own, but you’re pulling him back into you, wanting him to be as close as possible to you in this moment.

“Feels so fucking good inside you, sooo fucking good,” he grunts, and you know he’s almost close just from the way his eyebrows are screwing into adorable little crinkles, his thrusts becoming sloppier and sloppier by the second.

“F-fuck-” you mewl against his lips, feeling the knot in your own stomach tighten as his cock hit mesmerizing places inside you. He keeps his hand snug around your neck while looking into your eyes, and his hips can’t bare to piston into your cunt any longer once your walls clench around him, making him feel dizzy in the head. At that point, hes too far in to care about anything, gripping your ass cheek with an intense need as his hands lands a hard slap against it, leaving a red stain of his handprint on your cheek, the stinging pain of his hands and soothing rubs making you go insane.

With each 3-4 hard thrusts, he adds in a hard WACK, marking both cheeks with a rosey red that looked like it was blushing, and soon enough he was lifting one leg straight up like a candle, toes curled as he fucked deep into you, with a new refreshment that was only yours to claim, luckily enough. He fucked into you with a matched fervor that can only be described as wild, and with that, chan finally lets himself go, barely getting any extra thrusts in before painting your walls with his hot release, groaning shamelessly like a porn star. “Oh my God,” he grunts with a strained voice, using his last bit of strength to prevent himself from collapsing on top of you given how spent he is now. He pops out of you soon enough, after having his soft cock warmed up by your wet walls, his cum seeping out of your used pussy, but his cock doesn’t look... normal. Its soft yet still kind of up, like maybe his balls were too big and propping it up? No, it was infact still semi-hard, his eyes meeting yours with a mutual agreement, a challenge, as if asking to help him out, and so you did, backing up into the marbled countertops containing of those small sinks and that random hole filled with garbage.

His hand slides to the back of your neck, firm but gentle, and pulls you closer. “Good girl,” he praises, voice laced with an almost indistinguishable amount of contempt, and it has you reeling. You lick a bit along his tip, slowly and gently kissing along the sensitive skin, and you can already feel it start to rise along your lips. His fingers weave through your hair with a slow sigh. You press another kiss to the side of his cock, soft at first, as if tasting the moment before plunging in. His body shudders. The saltiness lingers on your tongue as you part your lips wider, slowly taking him into your mouth. “Fuck,” he breathes, the word barely audible, more an exhale than speech.

His hand slightly tightens in your hair, not pulling, just holding, grounding himself. You hollow your cheeks, sliding further forward, and the groan that rumbles in his chest sends a thrill through you. The weight of him is heavy on your tongue, and you let yourself sink into a languid pace, drawing him in, inch by inch, savoring the way his body reacts. His hips jerk, just a little, involuntarily, and you can’t help the slight moan that leaves your throat. The sound and vibration seem to undo him.

“You’re so fucking good at this,” Chan grunts, his voice rough around the edges, raw with need. His hand cups the back of your head, guiding you—not forcing, but encouraging—as you take him deeper, working with a mix of tongue, lips, and a shit ton of spit.

You glance up, catching his gaze. A carnal glint is in his stare, and he smiles. Fuck. The sight of him nearly takes your breath away. His jaw falls slack, his lips part, and his eyes lock on you—heavy-lidded and burning with something primal. The tension in his thighs grow as you continue, a gradual acceleration in the way you take him in. The soft, wet sounds fill the air, mingling with his labored breaths and low groans. His thumb brushes your cheek, a ticklish touch that feels oddly tender amidst the heat. “Just like that,” Chan murmurs, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Don’t stop. You’re—perfect.” You give an hum, letting it thrum in your mouth. Chan whimpers and it’s an absolutely beautiful thing to hear. You hum again, louder this time. Your chest heaves at the limited breathing but Chan is slowly losing his sense of control and it arouses you, motivates you to keep going. “God, your skilled. I work in oral care, yet you seem to be better at it.” Chan laughs to himself, head thrown back, words spiked with unmistakable lust. His hands move to your shoulders, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he fights the urge to thrust into your mouth. “I won’t last if you keep going like that.” His voice cracks, betraying the thin line of self-control he’s holding onto. You pull back slightly, just enough to take a breath, then bob your head back into his girth, but this time you take him deep and you swear you can catch glimpse of his soul leaving his body, eyes rolling back and brows furrowed in a pornographic way. You choke and gag slightly on his cock, but being the sadistic girl you are, you take pleasure in the way he thrusts less carelessly into your mouth, fucking into you as he tugs on your hair as a guide, the only pillar of support besides the cold counter behind him, his other hand holding onto the edge so he wouldn’t slip, but the moment you hollow your cheeks again and gaze up at him with that stare is when he looses it. Before he could mutter any more words, he just lets out a series of swears. “F-fucking hell-! O-oh my god cumming--”

And a hot liquid fills your throat, forcing its way inside until your throat is sore, raw and hot from his salty liquids. It’s murky and a bit penny-like in a way, but your addicted to the taste that would normally seem gross. As you pull back with a mix of spit and cum on your tongue, he ruffles up your hair and helps stand you up, kissing an awkward kiss onto your messy forehead as he sets you back down onto the chair, scooping out the remains of his liquid out of your spent pussy and dabbing it up with a tissue, the light fabric teasing your overstimulated clit, drawing a whine out of you. He gently hushes you and continues to clean you up and pack up his stuff.

“Until next time, yeah? And wear those pink panties again, they look good on you.” He waves out with a charming wink, despite his current state.

God, this man. Guess your next appointment won’t just be one type of oral...

#bang chan #smut #christopher bang #dentist #stray kids #skz #skz x reader #bangchan x reader #HELPIDKWHATIMDOING #firstpost #thirsty #no plotline #pls no hate #hornyyy #chan x reader #bangchan smut #stray kids smut #bang chan x you

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yeyinde · 2 months ago

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So if I could ask, sorry if it’s unintelligible I’m to figure out how to word it; for the baby trap series what’s the order here? Like Price’s missus is pregnant but around that time Ghost is like starting his plotting and near the end Johnny’s got his ‘little secret’ but then for Kyle, Johnny’s is pregnant and his is pregnant around the same time, did Price’s wife and Simon’s wife already have their kid or? Idk I’m trying to figure the timeline out in my head, loved all four of them I’m just curious

It's all mostly concurrent. And Price's is almost standalone tbh, and really only includes Simon's because I had an idea for him but wasn't sure how committed I was to an anthology at the time.

But it's set sometime after MW23. The actual reading order is Johnny, Price, Simon, and Gaz.

And the timeline is: Johnny gets shot, goes to Canada. Price and Gaz almost die in a plane crash. Johnny kidnaps Doe. Simon gets sent on a mission where he meets Bird. Price schemes. His wife schemes harder. Doe deals with a maniac on the Mackenzie River in NWT. Gaz slowly unravels. Price's wife is pregnant. He tells Simon (and Laswell). Inspired, Simon makes his move. Gaz reaches out to Price for help (and is possibly both being manipulated by Price and manipulating him at the same time), then to Johnny. Gaz comes back from his mission intentionally hurt, and tricks Dove. Johnny smuggles Doe into Scotland. Then gives terrible advice to anyone who will listen. Simon takes it as Top Five Things Realtors DON'T Want You To Know. Gaz plans a visit to Scotland. Price calls Nik about that international kidnapping case Laswell threw at him. Something about a missing hiker in Nahanni and isn't that where they sent Soap? At the same time, his wife is probably plotting a playdate with the wives of her husband's friends.

#it makes sense in my head but sounds wild the moment i try to explain it all

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hellsbedroom · 5 months ago

Text

call out my name

pairing: winter soldier!bucky x f!reader

word count: 4k

summary: as an assassin for hire, you often worked alongside the Winter Soldier. immediately after the events of CA:TWS, that soldier shows up at your doorstep needing help. and he thanks you in a very particular way

warnings: 18+, nsfw, brief mentions of violence, mild alcohol consumption, heavy petting, hair pulling (m receiving), p in v, porn with actually a lot of plot, angsty ending because i couldn't help myself, google-translated romanian

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The frantic knocking at your front door shouldn’t be happening. Even though Hydra’s secrets had been blown open a couple days ago, your name wasn’t mentioned anywhere. Mercenaries’ names never are. So how could anyone find you?

You slow your breathing to counter the adrenaline as the knocking rattles the hinges again. Clutching your gun tighter, you throw the door open and aim into the night.

The barrel lands against a man’s chest and takes you both by surprise. You pull the gun away when a familiar pair of blue eyes blinks back at you from underneath a ballcap. His face isn’t one you ever expected to see again, especially after the carnage in DC.

“Soldier?” You’d never known him by any real name.

“Can I come in?”

“Am I gonna get killed for it?”

He glances behind him and tugs his backpack tighter. “Not if I’ve done my job.”

That’s enough of an answer. You wave him in with the gun still cocked in case it’s a trap. But after you lock the door, you turn to find him staring at you and all at once the gun is no longer necessary.

His eyes are different. You’d seen them empty, you’d seen them focused, you’d seen them angry, you’d even seen them lust-blown as he thrusted into you in some alleyway after a mission. But you’d never seen them scared.

And he is terrified.

“I need your help. I have to get away.” Vigilance strings his shoulders taut and you wonder how many sleepless nights had led up to this.

“Okay, my cover’s not blown and I’ve still got my contacts. Is the west coast far enough? Canada?”

“No. Farther.”

“London’s pretty big.”

He grips your forearms in a flash, gruffly pleading an inch from your face. “Somewhere they can’t find me.”

The intensity freezes you for a few moments before you nod. Wordlessly you cross the room and rummage through papers strewn across your desk. Identities, informants, any connections you still have. Anybody they can’t get to.

“Does Romania work?” You proudly hold up some papers with illegible scrawls. “I can get you out at dawn.”

“Yeah. Yeah, thanks.”

His sigh of relief leaves you comfortable enough to grab a couple beers from the fridge. Might as well drink when it’s clear that he’ll stay the night. But when you try to hand him one, he’s staring off into space and doesn’t seem to notice. You aren’t the best at comforting people, especially not Hydra’s former war dog, but you clasp a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, it’ll be okay.”

He snaps back into the moment, nodding in thanks as he takes the beer and opens it with a simple flick of a metal finger. He rubs the other hand down his face, dragging away the last of whatever thoughts had distracted him.

“Yeah.” He still stands resolute in the center of the room, even as you sling yourself into a chair. “Sorry for grabbing you. I just—”

“It’s alright, Soldier. I’ve been roughhoused before.”

“It’s actually Bucky.”

“What?”

“My name is Bucky. I didn’t know that for a long time. Hydra’s doing.” He sinks onto your couch, still weighed down by the revelation.

You immediately sit up straighter, the gears in your head trying to make sense of it. The whole story comes out with just a bit of prodding. World War Two, his capture, his fall, Hydra’s brainwashing, all of it. You sit in stunned silence through it, nodding in support every now and then. He finishes after the second round of beers and checks the magazine of his gun from force of habit. You do the same, then venture with a question itching to be answered.

“Do you remember anything you did?”

“Some of it. I couldn’t stop it. I didn’t...I didn’t want to stop it.” A guilty silence follows and you hear the distinctive whirring of his metal arm as he clenches his fist.

You laugh to lighten the mood. “Hey, that’s better than me. I chose to do this shit and got paid for it.”

Bucky nods solemnly, staring down his empty bottle. Then he flicks his gaze back up to you. “I also remember you.”

“On a mission? Marrakesh was pretty memorable.”

“Yeah. But I remember us doing some other stuff, too.” A smile ghosts his lips for the first time that night.

Memories of him sucking angry marks into your neck as you writhe on his cock come flooding back, making you cross your legs. You clear your throat and try to seem nonchalant.

“I hope that’s not something the brainwashing made you do,” you joke.

Bucky’s eyes are sharp as knives as they cut across the room. “It wasn’t. And I didn’t want to stop that either.”

“Oh. Good.”

The next silence thunders with anticipation but you don’t push your luck. Instead you focus on clearing away stray dishes and papers, flitting back and forth and trying to remember how to play hostess. You cross in front of Bucky and easily lift the bottle out of his hand. But before you can step out of reach again, he takes your arm.

This time his grip is gentle, nothing like the way he’d ever touched you before. You swallow thickly and dare to meet his gaze.

“Yes, Soldier?”

The gentleness is abandoned as his mouth crashes into yours. You knock off his ballcap in a rush to card your hands through his hair, desperate to have him closer. It’s all practiced and familiar, tilting your head to deepen the kiss and his teeth nipping at your lower lip.

His scruff burns against your jaw and then he’s kissing in its wake, lips and teeth devouring down your neck as his hands dive under your clothes to brush at your waist and hips. The skin-to-skin contact lights you on fire and you help him lift off your shirt in a flurry that’s followed by his own jacket and shirt. The fleeting moment spent apart is enough for you to catch your breath and shiver at the desire swirling in his eyes.

You collide into his chest again, wasting no time in dragging him backward with you toward somewhere, anywhere sturdy enough for support. It’s like you’re back in Mumbai or S��o Paulo or Kosovo, desperate to find a pleasurable release at the closest available location where he could grind his hips into you. This time it happens to be your kitchen island, a throne of granite onto which Bucky lifts you and your legs easily split, letting him settle between them and pull you so that his bulge presses just so against your core.

You're grabbing his shoulders — clutching flesh and metal — and that familiar coolness of his titanium arm curving around your back brings heat pooling between your legs. He captures your lips in an eager, fluid motion, tongue darting out to graze yours. Expert at killing, expert at kissing. The tendrils of his long hair tickle your forehead just like you remember.

With the usual haste and fervor, you grind against his solid hips in search of friction and he obliges by slipping his hand down to rub through your pants.

Soldier...you nearly moan, but stop short. You don’t have to settle for this kind of quickie. He isn’t just Soldier anymore, and you aren’t under the pressure of a mission.

“Bucky,” you murmur against his lips, grounding him to something besides what you both once were. “Bucky, wait…”

He slows down, his grip moving to your thighs, two heavy palms weighing down on you. Then he looks up slowly — his gaze could crack you in half. There’s a vulnerable tenderness in his eyes, clouded over by the bewilderment of what being Bucky once was.

“Bedroom,” you order gently.

“What?”

“Let’s do this in the bedroom.”

He has a lot of unlearning to do after so many years of Hydra control, so maybe you can help him with this one thing. You aren’t sure why you want this extra layer of intimacy, but it feels right.

Your insistence makes him wary. His eyes dart around, calculating whether or not this, too, is an attempt to capture him. Anyone could be in on it.

“It’s not a trap, I promise,” you coax, holding your hands up. “It’ll be better like this. I’ll show you.”

He doesn’t move as you slide off the island, brushing against him and letting the moment linger. You leave your eyes locked on his as you turn and take a few inviting steps down the hall, not abandoning the gaze until his doubts subside and he follows you.

The sparse bedroom is suddenly alive with electricity as you kiss him again to pick up right where you left off. Your grip dives into his hair, pulling in the way you remember makes even the stoic soldier moan. The liplock is blinding and his hands mold to your waist and hips and everywhere, keeping you close as the last of the clothes are haphazardly tossed away. Once you’re bare it’s a short stumble onto the bed and he falls on top of you with his metal arm braced in the unmade sheets.

Somehow Bucky looming over you, sinking down with every delectable muscle, is more breathtaking than the Winter Soldier fucking you senseless against a brick wall that digs into your back.

You don’t get a chance to catch that breath before his hand snakes down to toy with your clit, expertly coating it with your slick with a particular brush of his finger that he knows works so well. The gasp wracks your chest — you’d been ready for this since he admitted remembering every salacious encounter — and you almost give in then and there.

But where’s the fun in that?

Your thighs are locked around his hips and you swiftly flip on top, sitting up to settle on his lap. You’re naked, with no chance of hiding weapons, so he quickly relaxes and focuses on how new this is. Studying your form, from draped legs to raised brow. His hand lifts and you catch it in sync, bringing it up to your breast where he rolls your nipple instantly, carefully watching the arch of your back in response. Bucky is nothing if not a quick learner.

He’s hard, aching underneath you, and the tug in your core calls for the same thing. He helps lift your hips and you brace on his chest and then you’re slowly sinking down on his length to draw out the sensation.

It’s a pretty thing to watch his lips curl as he hisses out your name — your real name, not just one of your aliases — and your own sigh flies out when you reach the hilt. You take a few moments to adjust and then start rocking to an inaudible beat. Or maybe that’s your heart thrumming with pride.

It’s different this time. Everything is still eager and strong and deliciously satisfying but this isn’t just a convenient tryst. That has its time and place, like a muggy Havana afternoon after a vicious shootout. This time there’s something in the way Bucky rubs along your thighs while you lean in close, the rhythm of the thrusts keeping you just out of reach of his lips and yet leaving you anchored to those blue eyes.

He cradles the nape of your neck, watching your face morph in pleasure while the tension builds. You can’t help kissing him then and there and everything winds tighter and tighter until the climax takes you, your open mouth grazing against his as bliss washes all over. His name is a whispered prayer from your lips.

Your stuttering hips drag him into the throes a moment later and his gasp rushes past your cheek. A moan rumbles through his chest and you collapse on it, daring to smile as you breathe him in.

God that was good. The two of you still have it.

You unceremoniously roll off and into the sheets before another thought strikes. You’d never had to deal with Bucky in the moments after a good fuck. You always went your separate ways down dimly-lit alleys or out of a jungle. But here he is, stretched out beside you, with no prerogative to leave until morning.

Apparently the same thing was on his mind because he suddenly sits up and tugs a weary hand through his hair. “I’ll take the couch.”

“No.” You catch his wrist before you know what’s happening. “It’s alright, stay. You need a good night’s sleep. Getting to Romania is gonna be a hell of a ride.”

His eyes sweep over you but there’s no wariness this time. Instead he blinks slowly, giving a half-smile as he settles back down and pulls the covers up. It’s quiet for a few moments, comfortably so, and his arm brushes yours without pulling away.

“You should come with me,” he finally says, voice raspy with sleep and sex. “You need to get out, too.”

It isn’t the first time that thought has crossed your mind but it suddenly feels much more serious. A real chance to escape. Your fingers trace the sheets and mattress below, a place to lay your head that you had never really called home. Of course you have a bag packed and ready to go at a moment’s notice, every good mercenary does — but are you ready to be on the run? To live your life at the whim of whoever finds you in every city?

Bucky has already dozed off beside you, his gentle breathing interrupted by furrowed brows and an occasional shake of his head. He has no choice but to run, though you doubt he’ll outrun the nightmares anytime soon.

Sleep does its job of lulling you, too, and you decide to make your choice in the morning.

***

Two Years Later Bucharest, Romania

The rusted faucet gives a weak stream of water but you still rinse off the dishes, watching stray peelings and seeds whirl down the drain. Big bowls of fruit are your staple breakfast now that you have the time to enjoy them.

The apartment is silent except for the gentle ceramic clinks, with Bucky having stepped out to the market next door to pick up more plums — the favorite household snack.

As ex-assassins, calling your arrangement “dating” feels childish. You and Bucky sleep in the same bed, fuck regularly, cook each other meals, watch each other’s backs, and take turns cleaning the arsenal of weapons. So whatever the term for that relationship is, that’s what you have. You need each other.

With the dishes clear and reading to catch up on, you step into the bathroom in the back of the apartment to grab a clip for your hair. Can’t have the locks in your way when novels await.

You hear the front door open and a smile tugs at your lips. “Ce mai faci?” you call. (How are you?)

The Romanian greeting is part of yours and Bucky’s precautions — a code for when one of you reenters the apartment, just in case. You expect to hear the coded answer: Voi fi mai bine mâine (I will be better tomorrow).

But there’s no reply. Only muted footsteps toward your kitchen.

Your heart slams into overdrive. There’s a handgun hidden under the bathroom sink and it’s cold in your grip as you level it at the door, cautiously stepping into the small hallway. No one is immediately visible but your senses don’t fail you. Someone’s there.

“Reieşi!” you spit. “Come out!”

Still no answer but a careful shuffling of feet just out of sight. You hunker at the wall for only a moment and then fling yourself around the corner, barrel first.

Standing by your refrigerator with arms warily raised is Steve Rogers, Captain America himself. You recognize him from both the news and Bucky’s attempts to piece his life together. He cocks his head in surprise — whatever intel had let him here, it hadn’t mentioned you.

But he keeps his voice steady as he breaks the silence. “Where’s Bucky?”

You don’t answer. It’s pointless to lie, since he somehow found the apartment, but you know better than to tell the truth. You can’t claim ignorance anyway — the unwavering handgun in your grasp says otherwise.

You stare back in silence and take a couple calculated steps forward while trying to figure out what the fuck to do. Despite the proximity Steve lowers his arms, correctly guessing that if you haven’t shot yet, you won’t do so without warning. Killing Captain America isn’t exactly the best way to keep people out of your life anyway.

“I just need Bucky. People are coming for him.”

That raises goosebumps along your arms. It makes sense, Steve only finding him when someone worse is on the way. You’re about to demand more answers when footsteps reach the outside of your apartment and pause, no doubt noticing the door slightly ajar.

“Ce mai faci?” It’s Bucky’s strained voice trying the code. Then he more urgently adds, “Esti in siguranta?” (Are you safe?)

“Da,” you call quietly, keeping your eyes trained on Steve. “I’m alright, Bucky. We have a visitor.”

Bucky carefully treads in, his eyes darting between you and Steve and the gun in your hand. The air stings with confusion. But eventually he crosses to you and closes his hand over the barrel to make you lower the gun, and not even your incredulous gaze changes his mind. He simply nods and runs his hand down your back. Trust me.

He pushes a newspaper into your lowered hands and you look down at the words plastered across the top: ‘Winter Soldier Bombs UN Headquarters’. The newspaper crinkles in your tightening grip. Underneath the headline sits a photo of Bucky’s face, clear as day, when it isn’t possible for him to have been there. You’d come out of hiding to vouch for it yourself.

But that wouldn’t matter, you know better. The little world that you and Bucky carved out is caving in fast.

“Do you know me?” It’s the intruder, his gaze no longer fixed on you or your weapon but on his long-lost friend.

“You’re Steve. I read about you in a museum.”

A pause. Steve clenches his jaw. “I know you’re nervous, and you have plenty of reason to be. But you’re lying.”

He pauses again as the comms unit crackles in his ear, probably warning of the distant commotion now rumbling up the building from many floors down. You sneak a glance at Bucky and the grim set of his mouth.

“I’ve got him here,” Steve says into his radio. “He’s with someone. Unclear whether she’s a hostile.”

He clips that last part at you, demanding your intentions as you still bristle at him. But you don’t get a chance to threaten him again before Bucky steps in front of you.

“I wasn’t in Vienna. I don’t do that anymore. Neither does she.”

“Well the people who think you did are coming here now. And they’re not planning on taking you alive,” Steve adds, the gravity in his voice sinking deep into your chest.

“That’s smart, good strategy.”

Bucky’s right. Special forces are always taught to eliminate a threat, not wait for heroic negotiating. That doesn’t happen in the real world when real consequences are at stake. A rattling shakes the staircase outside your apartment door, the telltale sign of heavy men and heavy guns on their way. You quickly realize that whether or not Steve is on your side, he’s a better option than what’s waiting out there.

Steve softens. “It doesn’t have to end in a fight, Buck.”

Bucky takes off the glove concealing his titanium hand, flexing the joints and heaving a sigh. He looks at you and tips another nod. Get ready. You grab another magazine of bullets for your gun.

“It always ends in a fight,” Bucky murmurs.

“That’s why we ran, you know. To try and stay away from the fight.” You cock the gun, staring Steve down. Blaming him for this situation is wrong but damn it feels right. “But when it comes to our door we have no choice.”

Steve gets agitated, glancing between you and Bucky and trying to piece it all together. “Bucky, you pulled me from the river. Why?”

Bucky stays still. “I don’t know.”

The thundering footsteps get closer, louder and louder like in every nightmare you’d had about being found. You walk to the windows, looking for any trace of the enemies no doubt rappelling down the building at that instant. There are more weapons hidden on that side of the room anyway, and you gather what you can.

“I hate to break this up,” you quip at the men behind you, “but we can’t keep standing here playing high school reunion.”

“She’s right, Buck. We have to go.”

“She’s coming with us.”

You spare Bucky a grin over your shoulder. Of course you’re going with them, but it’s good to hear him say it.

Steve steps closer, faint warnings still being yelled into his comms unit. “They aren’t looking for her. She’ll be safer away from us for now.”

That makes your breath catch. Arguing with Steve will make the oncoming fight that much more difficult. You turn, a sneer already waiting on your lips, but Bucky once again interjects. He catches your shoulders and his gaze sinks deep into yours.

“Steve’s right.”

“What?”

“They’re after me for the stuff in Vienna. You need to get out.”

“Bucky, I’m not —”

Crash! Grenades come flying through the windows, shattering the tension with shards of glass. You knock one right back out and Bucky kicks the other to Steve, who covers the blast with his shield. Bucky is two seconds ahead of you and lifts the mattress to cover you both from a third grenade tossed in. The explosion is hot against your back and your muscles tremble. With his free hand Bucky throws the steel table at the door, blocking it and buying a few minutes before the tac team can bust through.

Rappelers burst through the windows and Steve kicks one down, his gunfire raining into the ceiling instead of your flesh. You return fire to another, clipping his knee and shoulder, while Bucky yanks the third and knocks him against the wall. Two more come swinging in — your adrenaline kicks up another notch — and a scream grates your throat as you land a few good punches on the closest one. You hadn’t fought for your life like this in a long time, but it’s a skill that comes back quick as lightning.

Bucky dashes over to Steve, forcing the other rappeler out of his grip and onto the balcony with a swift knee to the chest.

“Buck, stop!” Steve calls. “You’re gonna kill someone.”

“I’m not gonna kill anyone,” Bucky grunts. Floorboards splinter under the force of his punch and he pulls out his backpack before tossing it onto the roof of the adjacent building.

You take a respite from watching for more assailants and step over downed bodies to reach him. The other backpack lands heavily in your hands and despite the chaos, the rest of the world briefly fades when Bucky drags you closer.

“Go, you have to get out!”

All air vanishes. “No. I’m not leaving —”

“Please.” Bucky’s voice is small against the rushing of blood in your ears. His iron grip pulls you toward the windows and he hands you a rappelling rope. “I’ll find you later.”

You know there’s no choice. And arguing further will put everyone in danger. You attach the rope to yourself and the balcony, still pulling Bucky with you as you back onto the ledge. Shotgun blasts at the hinges of the door across the room draw Steve away and you know this is your last blessed moment alone.

Whatever version of Bucky Barnes this is — the man out of time, the assassin, the shell of a vintage hero — you don’t care. This version is yours, and you love him.

You kiss him, hard. He returns it with fire, his hand tangling in your unkempt hair. A sad smile creeps onto your lips when you pull away and Bucky nods solemnly. One gentle push later and you drop from view.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier!bucky #winter soldier x reader #bucky barnes imagine #am i insinuating that the winter soldier didn't properly touch a t*ddy for 70 years? maybe #and yes i namedropped as many cities as possible #because the winter soldier is truly mr worldwide when it comes to klling and fcking

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