#because I got in to work another night shift today | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cheftsunoda · 10 days ago

Note

hi i really love all ur works, ur so talented🩷 i have a request for a driver that has like a secret family with a wife and kids and one day it leaks and the grid didnt know and reacts:) could be any driver you choose🩷

leaked — aa23

slight smau/blurbs

alex albon x !wife reader

alex and yn have been married for four years and have been together for over 10. they have managed to keep their relationship almost invisible from the public — the fact that they were married and had one kid and another on the way was known to no one. except close family. until one day, everyone suddenly knew.

fc : no official face claim — tumblr ladies and lily:)

(a/n) : love love love you 💕 thank you for all the kind words.

—

yn.private

liked by alexalbon, yourbff, yoursister & 25 others.

yn.private : i like this little life ☀️💐

—

view 10 other comments.

alexalbon : oh my beautiful beautiful wife— how I love you 🤍

liked by yn.private

↳ yn.private : my adorable loving husband. i love you moreeeee

liked by alexalbon

↳ alexalbon : on my way home with your favorite pastry’s!

liked by yn.private

↳ yn.private : get me pregnant again.

liked by alexalbon

↳ alexalbon : I can’t get you pregnant while you already are, my love.

↳ yn.private : I will have a whole army of albon babies if you continue to treat me this well

liked by alexalbon

yourbff : can’t wait for baby albon #2 !! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

liked by yn.private and alexalbon

↳ yn.private : ready to be an auntie from the beginning again??

↳ yourbff : fully prepared to take night shift when alex is away🫡

liked by yn.private and alexalbon

↳ yn.private : love youuuuuu! you da bestttt

yoursister : something about you this pregnancy…you are just so shiny and pretty. I never looked like that pregnant. I was swollen and ugly.

liked by yn.private and alexalbon

↳ yn.private : nooooo you looked gorg but thank u lovie

—

The house is quiet. Miraculously quiet.

Which, as any parent of a three-year-old knows, means one of two things—either a disaster is brewing… or the toddler is asleep. Thankfully, today it’s the latter. Our little hurricane wore herself out playing race cars with her dad in the living room and is now starfished across her bed, one hand still clinging to her favorite stuffed tiger. I sink back against the pillows, hand resting gently over my small bump, which isn’t huge but definitely feels like it should be—especially with how demanding this baby has been when it comes to cravings.

“Banoffee croissants,” I mutter to myself, the words like a whispered prayer to no one. “God, I’d sell my soul for one. Or three.”

I hadn’t mentioned it out loud to Alex. I didn’t need to. After nearly ten years together, he’s attuned to my moods and cravings like some kind of pastry-whisperer. That man could probably sense a food mood swing from a continent away. As if summoned, the bedroom door creaks open and Alex appears, balancing a bakery box in one hand and a steaming mug in the other. He’s barefoot, hair still damp from his shower, wearing a hoodie I’m ninety percent sure I stole from him at one point. His smile is the first thing I see.

“I knew it,” I grin, sitting up straighter. “You read my mind again, didn’t you?”

He crosses the room and leans down to press a soft kiss to my forehead. “I heard you muttering about croissants in your sleep this morning. Banoffee, specifically. You know I can’t ignore a prophetic food dream.”

“You’re a hero,” I tell him seriously.

“A hero who drove twenty minutes to that little bakery that you like,” he says, settling onto the bed beside me and opening the box with a flourish. “And begged the lady behind the counter for the last three.”

My eyes widen. “You got the last three?!”

“I showed her a picture of you and that precious bump,” he says proudly, nodding at my stomach. “Didn’t even charge me for the third one. Said you deserved it.”

“You do realize I love you more every day, right?”

He smirks. “Because of the croissants or in general?”

I lean over, resting my head against his chest as I reach into the box. “Both. But mostly the croissants.”

He wraps an arm around my shoulders and pulls me close, pressing his lips to the top of my head while I take my first bite. It’s perfect. Warm, flaky, banana-y with just the right amount of toffee. A stupid little tear pricks at the corner of my eye because… hormones, probably. And love. Definitely love.

“This is nice,” I whisper after a few minutes of quiet chewing and cuddling.

“Mhm.”

“The baby’s happy.”

“I can tell,” he laughs softly. “Kicking already?”

“Not yet. Just… smug. Like, very pleased with our croissant situation.”

Alex turns slightly so he can rest his hand over my stomach. “Well, little one, just wait until I get my hands on those lemon raspberry tarts next week. You’ll think you were born into royalty.”

I sigh, the kind of full body, heavy limbed sigh that only comes when you’re well fed, loved, and cradled in your favorite person’s arms. The kind of moment you wish you could bottle up and keep forever.

Alex brushes a crumb off my chin and shifts so he can lie down beside me properly, still keeping one hand on my stomach like it grounds him. His thumb strokes back and forth absently, almost like he’s trying to communicate through touch.

“You’ve been so calm with this one,” he murmurs. “Last time you were googling every strange feeling and crying over that one Pampers ad with the twin babies in slow motion.”

I groan. “Don’t remind me. I still can’t hear that music without tearing up. But yeah… it’s different this time. I know what’s coming. The good, the hard, the sleep deprivation…”

He laughs under his breath. “The explosive diaper at 3 a.m.?”

“Exactly. And yet…” I look down at his hand, resting over where our baby is quietly growing. “I’m not scared this time. I just feel… lucky.”

He kisses the side of my head, lingering there. “We are lucky.”

“We’re also outnumbered now,” I tease. “Two kids to two of us. If we go for a third, we’ll officially be out of our depth.”

He pulls back just enough to meet my eyes. “You say that like I’m not already out of my depth. I still triple-check the car seat buckles and google toddler coughs at midnight.”

I snort. “And I love that about you.”

He grins, but then his face softens. There’s a flicker of something tender behind his eyes, the kind of emotion that doesn’t always need words, but he gives me some anyway.

“I keep thinking about when I met you,” he says quietly. “How I never imagined we’d have this. A house with tiny shoes by the front door. Crumbs in our bed. Little voice yelling at me when I walk through the door. And now… another one.”

There’s a lump in my throat now. Hormones again. Or maybe just Alex being his gentle, golden-hearted self.

“I still can’t believe we’ve kept it a secret,” I whisper. “Not even the grid knows.”

He chuckles. “That’s the real miracle. We told your mum and somehow it didn’t make it to Twitter.”

“Will we ever tell them?” I ask, smiling softly.

“We’ll tell them soon,” he says, leaning over to kiss my cheek. “But I like this. Just us. Our little secret.”

I nod and nestle closer, both of us wrapped in quiet joy. My fingers drift to the edge of his hoodie sleeve, tracing the seam absently.

“Have you thought of names yet?” I ask after a long pause.

He hums. “One or two.”

“Anything outrageous?”

“Nothing that would embarrass them on the first day of school, I promise.”

“You always say that, and then suggest things like ‘Sebastian’ because of Vettel.”

“Okay, Sebastian is a strong name.”

I roll my eyes affectionately, then close mine, resting fully against his chest.

“Let’s just keep this a little longer,” I whisper. “Before the world knows. Before the noise.”

He squeezes me just a little tighter.

“Always,” he says.

—

It starts with a text.

I’m stealing your child tomorrow. You two are going on a date. No excuses.

At first, I laugh. Out loud, full-bellied, startled laughter that makes Alex peek into the kitchen with a raised brow and a half-peeled orange in his hand.

“My sister,” I say, waving my phone in the air. “She’s planning a kidnapping.”

Alex grins and tosses a segment of orange into his mouth. “Tell her to wear black and bring snacks. Little one only accepts bribery in the form of animal crackers now.”

But then I read it again—You two are going on a date. No excuses.

And something quiet settles in me. Something that sounds like we could use this. Because it’s been a while.

Life with a toddler is love and chaos. It’s syrup-sticky fingers, and toy cars in the laundry, and late-night cuddles with a warm, sleepy body wedged between us. It’s beautiful, messy, loud. But it’s also… full. Full in a way that leaves very little room for us. So I text back—

Deal. But don’t let him convince you to stay up past bedtime again. You’re still recovering from the last sleepover.

I am a stronger woman now. He will not break me.

—

The next evening, after our daughter has been dramatically whisked away with promises of pancakes and cartoons, the house is still. The air feels different. Lighter. Quiet in the way we forgot we used to know.

I step out of the bedroom, smoothing my dress—a soft, silky navy one I haven’t worn in years, paired with a necklace Alex gave me on our first anniversary.

He’s in the living room waiting for me, buttoning the cuffs of his white shirt, sleeves rolled just enough to make my stomach flutter. He looks up—and then he stops.

“Wow,” he breathes. “You… wow.”

I laugh, but it’s a soft one. “I was going for ‘my husband falls hopelessly in love with me all over again.’”

He crosses the room in two strides and pulls me close, fingers grazing my jaw as he smiles that smile—the one that still makes my heart flip, ten years later.

“Mission accomplished,” he murmurs, brushing his lips against mine.

We don’t go anywhere fancy. Just a cozy little Italian restaurant we used to love before the world got busy. We sit in the corner, hands tangled across the table, laughing about things we forgot we missed. We order pasta we can’t pronounce and drink sparkling water because neither of us wants to drink wine if the other can’t.

At one point, someone passes with a baby in a carrier strapped to his chest, and I see Alex glance at it with a quiet little smile.

“You miss her already, don’t you?” I ask, grinning.

“I do,” he admits. “But I also really missed this.”

He reaches for my hand and rubs small circles into my palm.

“You and me. Talking without background noise. You looking like this,” he nods to my dress. “You glowing.”

“I think that’s the pregnancy hormones.”

“No,” he says softly. “It’s love. It’s us.”

—

The door closes behind us with a soft click, the echo of the outside world fading away as we step into the familiar stillness of our home. Alex doesn’t speak right away. He shrugs off his coat, eyes on me the whole time, like he’s not quite ready to let the night end. Neither am I.

“You want tea?” he asks quietly, his voice low and warm.

I shake my head, slipping my hand into his. “No. Just you.”

His smile is small but deep, the kind that crinkles at the corners and makes something inside me melt. We don’t even bother turning on the main lights—just the little lamp by the stairs, the one that glows golden and soft, like the house knows it’s supposed to feel sacred tonight.

We move together upstairs, slow and easy, like muscle memory. My heels are long abandoned, his hand steady on the small of my back as we climb. Our bedroom is just as we left it this morning: cozy, a little messy, with one of our daughter’s tiny stuffed bunnies curled into the corner of our bed, its ear half hanging off the side.

Alex picks it up and grins. “She really snuck this in here again.”

“She said BunBun gets lonely without us,” I murmur, pulling my dress over my head and swapping it for one of his worn t-shirts. “Apparently, he likes to sleep in our bed on Fridays.”

“She’s a menace,” he chuckles, tugging on his own t-shirt and sweatpants before joining me on the bed. “A tiny, brilliant menace.”

I crawl into bed beside him and immediately find my place—curled into his side, head on his chest, his arm draped around me. His hand slips under the hem of my shirt and rests gently on the slight swell of my belly. It’s not much yet, but enough that he always finds it. Like it’s a lighthouse.

“She’s going to be a good big sister,” he says softly, rubbing his thumb in slow circles. “I can already picture it.”

“She’s going to want to hold the baby every second of the day,” I murmur sleepily. “And throw a tea party five minutes after we get home from the hospital.”

“She’s going to try to feed the baby imaginary cake,” he says with a grin. “And name it after a Disney princess.”

“We could do worse than a Princess Albon.”

He snorts, kisses the top of my head, and whispers, “She’s going to love this baby so much.”

“So are we.”

There’s a long, quiet pause��his heart steady under my cheek, our breathing slow and synced. The kind of stillness that only comes after years of chaos and noise and unconditional love.

He presses a kiss into my hair. “I still fall in love with you every day.”

I lift my head just enough to look at him. “Even when I cry over pasta commercials and ask you to drive across the city for strawberry shortcake?”

“Especially then.”

—

It’s barely 8 a.m. when I hear the car pull into the driveway. A second later, the front door bangs open and a familiar voice shrieks with glee—

“Mummy! Daddy! I’m hoooome!”

Alex groans beside me, half-asleep, face mashed into the pillow. “Did she say that like she just returned from war?”

I’m already sitting up, heart full and wide awake. “Apparently the sleepover at my sister’s was a battlefield.”

We barely make it to the hallway before a blur of pink pajamas and tangled curls comes flying toward us. I squat down just in time to catch her as she hurls herself into my arms, her little hands clutching at my neck like she hadn’t seen me in months instead of just one night.

“I missed you soooooo much,” she breathes, dramatic as ever.

Alex crouches down beside us, gently brushing her curls back. “What about me? You didn’t miss Daddy?”

She turns to him with an incredulous expression. “Daddy. I cried for you when I brushed my teeth. Auntie said I was overreacting.”

Alex pretends to wipe a tear. “My brave little soldier.”

She shifts between us, arms flung around both our necks like she never wants to let go. “I brought you something,” she whispers suddenly, pulling away and digging into her backpack.

She proudly presents us with a slightly soggy drawing, made with markers and questionable glitter glue. “It’s you, and me, and the baby.”

She continues cheerfully, “I told BunBun about the baby but no one else, because you said it’s a secret secret.”

I feel my heart swell and laugh at the same time. “That’s right, baby. You’re a very good secret keeper.”

“But can I tell George? He’s so nice. He gave me a biscuit that one time.”

Alex lifts her into his arms with a grin. “Maybe not just yet. Not even for biscuits.”

We head into the kitchen—Alex with her balanced on one hip, me trailing behind as she chatters away about pancakes, her dream last night, and how she definitely wants the baby to be a girl “because I already have a brother and it’s BunBun.”

I’m pouring juice when she wraps her arms around my waist and nuzzles into my bump like she does when she’s feeling cuddly.

“Hi baby,” she whispers. “I’m back. Don’t grow up without me, okay?”

I glance over at Alex, who’s watching with a look on his face I’ll never get tired of—the kind of love that makes your knees go weak, even after ten years. He catches my eye and mouths, “We really made her.”

I mouth back, “We really did.”

And in that tiny kitchen, with glitter glue drying on the table and a bunny plush dropped by the fridge, our daughter launches into a song she’s half-making up about “mummy and the belly and pancakes for all,” and Alex starts flipping chocolate chip pancakes like it’s the most normal morning in the world. And honestly? It kind of is.

—

f1gossipgirls

5,007,231 likes.

f1gossipgirls : F1’S BEST-KEPT SECRET: ALEX ALBON IS MARRIED… WITH A CHILD AND ANOTHER ON THE WAY?! In a shocking twist no one saw coming, it looks like one of Formula 1’s most beloved drivers, Alex Albon, has been living a very private double life—and doing a stellar job keeping it hidden. Sources close to the paddock have confirmed that Albon has been secretly married for four years to longtime partner YN, and the couple share a three-year-old daughter. Oh—and she’s currently pregnant with their second child.

—

view 977,051 other comments.

username00 : WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT. MARRIED??? WITH A WHOLE TODDLER??? AND ANOTHER BABY ON THE WAY??? I NEED TO LAY DOWN.

username0 : someone said he had “girl dad energy” and I GUESS THEY WERE RIGHT ALL ALONG

username1 : so you’re telling me… the entire grid has been hanging out with alex like “haha you single bro?” while he’s got a toddler asking for fruit snacks at home???

username5 : I want the drive to survive footage of the moment lando finds out pls i am BEGGING

username7 : me rereading the article for the 6th time like it’ll suddenly make sense 😭

username10 : wait so you are telling me that GEORGE didn't even know????? wild.

username11 : im in tears. they are so cute. im so happy for him.

—

I find him in the kitchen. Not like making breakfast or getting coffee in the kitchen. I mean pacing. Wildly. Shirtless, in yesterday’s sweatpants, hair sticking up like he fought a wind tunnel, phone in hand, and muttering a very intense monologue that includes the words “breach of privacy,” “defamation,” and “I’ll sue them into the earth.”

I lean against the doorway, arms crossed over my bump, and raise an eyebrow.

“Good morning to you too.”

Alex whirls around like I’ve just caught him committing treason. “They know. YN—they know. Someone leaked it. Everything. The marriage. Our daughter. You being pregnant. It’s all online.”

“I saw,” I say casually, walking past him to the sink and pouring a glass of water.

He stares at me, dumbfounded. “You’re calm?”

I take a sip of water and nod. “Yeah.”

He looks like I just told him I joined a cult. “How are you calm? Our entire life just got blasted across the internet! People are reposting pictures of our daughter. Someone screenshotted her drawing of the baby, YN. They found my Spotify family plan name. They’re making fan edits of our wedding and we didn’t even post about our wedding!”

I walk over, place my hands on his chest, and push gently until he finally sits down at the kitchen table. “Breathe.”

He exhales shakily, bracing his elbows on his knees, running both hands through his hair like he’s trying to scrub the stress away.

“I wanted to protect you,” he says quietly. “You and her. Both of them. I liked that no one could touch this… this little world we built. I liked that it was just ours.”

I kneel beside his chair, resting my chin on his thigh, looking up at him. “You did protect us, Alex. For ten years, you kept all of this sacred. You gave us the kind of peace most people in your position would kill for.”

He looks down at me, eyes glassy now. “But it’s not sacred anymore.”

I reach up, placing his hand on my bump, right where the baby always kicks around this time of morning.

“Maybe not in the same way,” I say. “But it’s still ours. They might know about us now, but they’ll never have us. Not the way we do. Not the way she does.”

His hand spreads over my stomach, thumb moving absently. “She’s gonna see stuff. People are already making assumptions. About you. About us.”

“I know.” I nod. “And we’ll explain it to her when she’s older. We’ll remind her that love isn’t something you owe the public. That just because the world thinks it has a right to your life, doesn’t mean it gets to take it.”

Alex closes his eyes. “I should’ve done more. Locked it down tighter. I should’ve seen this coming.”

I stand slowly, cupping his face between my palms. “Alex, listen to me. You’ve done everything right. You’re the most devoted dad. The kindest husband. You’ve protected us so well, sometimes too well.”

He gives a weak laugh at that. “Guilty.”

I press my forehead to his. “You didn’t fail us. You love us. That’s never been a secret—not really. Anyone who’s ever seen you hold her hand or kiss my head when you think no one’s looking could’ve figured it out. We were just waiting for the world to catch up.”

There’s silence for a long moment. Then, a small voice echoes from the hallway.

“Daddy?” she calls sleepily. “Why are you yelling about the earth?”

Alex laughs then. Really laughs. Pulls me into his arms and hides his face in my shoulder, like I’m the only steady thing in the universe.

“I’m okay now,” he whispers. “You’re right. You always are.”

I smile and kiss his temple. “That’s on being married for four years.”

We walk down the hall together to scoop her up, her curls tangled and her stuffed bunny dragging behind her like a sleepy soldier. She’s still half-asleep when she cuddles into Alex’s chest, eyes blinking slowly.

“Did the internet find out about the baby?” she mumbles.

Alex and I look at each other over her head and burst into quiet, stunned laughter.

“Yes,” I say. “Yes, baby. They did.”

She sighs dramatically. “Ugh. I told BunBun to be discreet.”

And with that, our little family shuffles back into the kitchen. Chaos looming outside our doors, sure. But inside? Still sacred. Still ours.

—

The paddock is buzzing. Phones are out. Eyes are glued to screens and then not-so-subtly glued to us. Someone definitely elbowed their friend and mouthed “that’s her.” I think one engineer actually dropped a coffee.

Alex squeezes my hand, the only sign that he’s mildly freaking out. Otherwise, we’re strolling through the paddock like we didn’t just break the internet 36 hours ago. We are the eye of the storm. Or, at least we were—until George Russell appears out of nowhere like a man possessed.

“Are you—” he starts, gesturing wildly. “Did you—? That’s you?!”

Alex tries. He really tries. “Good morning, George.”

But George is on a different wavelength entirely. “Good morning?!” he hisses, grabbing Alex’s arm and yanking him and, by extension, me off to the side behind a hospitality truck. “You’ve had a wife for four years? A child? A whole damn family tree and didn’t tell us?!”

I blink. “Hi, George. Nice to see you too.”

He just looks at me like I’ve grown a second head. “You were pregnant when we went karting two months ago?!”

I shrug. “Just a little.”

“You didn’t even flinch when I offered you a beer!”

“I lied and said I was detoxing from kombucha. You nodded like you understood.”

George looks like he might pass out.

“You were at my housewarming, Alex!” he says, jabbing a finger toward my husband like it’s a crime. “And you brought a bottle of wine and a plant and not once mentioned the whole toddler waiting at home situation?! You left early and said it was because you were ‘tired’!”

Alex winces. “Well. I was. She had croup that week. I hadn’t slept in four days.”

George throws his hands in the air. “Unbelievable. And the pregnancy?! Again?! You just—snuck in another child while the rest of us were arguing over dumb shit?!”

He turns to me. “And you! You're the internet’s favorite mystery woman now, you know that? I saw a TikTok this morning with compilation footage of you in the background of races like it was some kind of conspiracy theory."

I snort. “Honestly, that’s flattering.”

Alex leans against the wall, rubbing the back of his neck. “George. I didn’t mean to lie. We just… wanted something that was only ours for a while. And then it turned into years, and then we had her, and we just… never found the right time.”

George goes quiet. Finally, he says, “You didn’t even tell me. I’m your friend, Alex.”

I put a hand on George’s arm. “You are. And it was never about not trusting anyone. It was about keeping something sacred, just for us.”

His mouth twists. “So that’s why you disappeared after qualifying in Hungary last year.”

Alex nods. “Yeah. I was rushing to FaceTime her before bedtime.”

George’s expression softens like he didn’t want it to. “That’s… okay, that’s actually kind of cute.”

“It was her birthday,” Alex adds. “She turned three and made a crown out of toilet paper. Demanded I wear one too.”

“I’m gonna cry,” George mutters. “I’m so mad at you, but also that’s adorable.”

Then, with a deep breath, he throws his arms out. “Bring it in. Both of you. I need a hug from this secret little Hallmark movie marriage of yours.”

Alex and I laugh, stepping into the very dramatic, very George Russell group hug. It’s tight and awkward and somehow perfect.

“I’m still mad, by the way,” George says into Alex’s shoulder. “But also… I can’t wait to meet her.”

“You will,” I promise.

“And the baby?” he asks, eyes wide.

Alex sighs. “Eventually.”

George blinks. “Do I get to be an uncle?”

Alex smirks. “You just might.”

And for the first time all weekend, it feels okay. It feels like the beginning of something new—still ours, but shared now, with the people who matter. And as George walks away mumbling about “plot twists” and “how he’s never trusting anyone quiet ever again,” I thread my fingers through Alex’s and smile.

“Not bad for our first day as the grid’s new power couple.”

He groans. “Don’t say that.”

I just grin. “Too late. You married a woman of chaos.”

—

third person pov

“Okay,” Lando says, dropping into the seat next to Alex with the force of someone who’s about to cause problems on purpose. “You know what? No. No. What the actual—”

Alex sighs. “Hi, Lando.”

“Don’t ‘hi, Lando’ me like I didn’t just find out through a fan cam that you are MARRIED,” Lando exclaims, voice already way too loud for the small briefing room. “MARRIED, Alexander! To YN. A whole wife. For FOUR YEARS.”

Alex looks straight ahead like maybe if he ignores it, it’ll stop. It does not.

“And then,” Lando continues, now counting off on his fingers, “you’ve got a toddler? A human child? A three-year-old who, by the way, has your ears, I saw the picture, don’t deny it—AND! You’re about to have another?! YOU HAVE A WHOLE NEW BABY ON THE WAY?!”

George leans forward, clearly enjoying this too much. “You should’ve seen him when he found the Reddit thread. Looked like he got hit by a truck.”

“I thought we were friends!” Lando yells. “You’ve heard me cry over situationships and you were out here picking names for your second baby?!”

Alex finally turns to him. “It’s not like that—”

“Then what is it like, huh?” Lando cuts in, pointing a dramatic finger at him. “Because to me, it feels like betrayal."

George snorts into his water bottle.

Alex lets out a long sigh and rubs his temples. “We just… kept it private. It was never about lying. It was about having something just ours.”

Lando opens his mouth, probably to yell some more — but then stops. Tilts his head. And suddenly gets very quiet.

“I get it,” he says softly.

Alex blinks. “You do?”

Lando nods, voice less chaotic now. “Yeah. I mean, if I had what you two have? I wouldn’t want to share it either.”

There’s a long beat of silence.

“…Still mad though,” Lando adds, crossing his arms. “Because now I have so many questions and no one will tell me anything.”

Alex looks over warily. “Like what?”

Lando leans forward immediately, like a kid at story time. “What’s her name? What does she call you? How did you propose? Does she have your laugh? Do you do the voice when you read bedtime stories? Did you cry when she was born? What does YN crave when she’s pregnant? Do you own a minivan?!”

Alex just stares at him.

“Tell me,” Lando whispers urgently. “Tell me everything.”

And that’s how Alex ends up sitting in the corner of the briefing room, surrounded by the other drivers, answering rapid-fire questions while Lando wipes his eyes every ten minutes and mutters “I’m not crying, I’m just emotionally invested.”

Eventually, Lando stands, looks Alex dead in the eye, and says-

“If you don’t let me meet your daughter before the next race, I will stage a coup.”

—

Carlos corners Alex at the coffee machine like a man on a mission.

“Hermano,” he says, low and intense. “I need you to look me in the eye and tell me there is not a literal baby registry under your government name.”

Alex, holding his coffee cup like a shield, sighs. “Hi, Carlos.”

“No. No ‘hi.’ You have a child. A daughter. A small human who has your eyes and your smile and a Williams onesie, and you said nothing to me. Your teammate.”

“It wasn’t personal—”

Carlos raises a hand. “You were on FaceTime with your wife during our debrief in Canada and told me it was your cousin’s cat’s birthday.”

“…I panicked.”

“AND THE SECOND BABY?”

“I panicked again!”

Before Alex can defend himself further, Charles appears at his side, arms crossed, jaw clenched. “I thought we were brothers.”

Alex groans. “Oh no.”

Charles shakes his head. “We shared a massage room in Monaco. You let me cry about my breakup. You handed me tissues. You patted my hair. And you said nothing about having a wife and child at home?!”

Carlos leans in, whispering conspiratorially, “I checked his hand this morning. No tan line. The man took off his ring during race weekends.”

Alex throws up his hands. “It’s silicone! I take it off for comfort!”

At that moment, Oscar slides in like a silent assassin. “So, when you left early in Abu Dhabi last year… that was for swimming lessons?”

“Yes.”

“And in Miami, when you skipped dinner?”

“Parent-teacher conference.”

Oscar blinks. “You’re terrifying.”

Then comes Lewis, smooth and quiet but with a knowing grin, already holding his second coffee of the morning.

“I’m honestly impressed,” he says, smiling as Alex looks like he’s about to combust. “A decade together, a whole daughter, and not even a whisper got out? That’s commitment. I respect it.”

Alex exhales in relief. “Thank you.”

“But also,” Lewis continues, sipping his drink, “I’m offended. Because you knew I’d be the best godfather option and you robbed me of my chance.”

Alex almost chokes. “We haven’t picked—”

“I’m already ordering custom baby Nikes. This isn’t a conversation.”

The rest of the drivers nod like this is fair and legally binding. Then Charles suddenly pauses and squints. “Wait. That one time at the track—YN was wearing a Williams cap. Was that your daughter she was holding?”

Alex winces. “Yes.”

Carlos gasps. “I said she looked like you and you said, and I quote, ‘we all look the same in hats.’”

Alex rubs his face. “I can’t keep doing this.”

Lando yells from across the room, “I TOLD YOU ALL. I KNEW.”

Everyone turns toward him.

“No you didn’t,” Oscar says.

“I DID. I FELT THE VIBES.”

George walks in holding his iPad like he’s delivering breaking news. “Group chat name has officially been changed to Albon’s Secret Family Club. I’m also starting a spreadsheet of baby shower gift ideas. She’s three, but I have so much to make up for.”

Alex puts his head down on the table. Charles pats him on the back. “You did this to yourself.”

Carlos grins. “But I forgive you. Because now I get to meet your daughter.”

Oscar nods. “Same. And the next time you disappear after quali, I expect a full report on how bedtime went.”

Lewis smiles. “And tell YN we said congratulations.”

Alex looks around, red-faced and overwhelmed… but smiling now too.

“Okay,” he says softly. “Okay. You can all meet her.”

Cheers erupt. And just like that, the secret’s out. But somehow, it feels less like a loss of privacy… and more like an expansion of family.

—

your pov

The second we step out of the car and into the paddock, our daughter tight in my arms and clinging to her stuffed bunny, I feel it. Not the stares — those are expected. Not the whispers or the way every camera in the vicinity subtly pans our way. But the warmth. Like the whole place exhaled one giant breath and made space for us. For her.

Alex is walking beside me, one hand steady on my back, his other adjusting the oversized paddock pass around our daughter’s neck. It practically reaches her knees.

She tugs her headphones down for a second and whispers, “Is Uncle Lando really gonna give me stickers?”

I laugh softly. “I think he bought a book of them, sweet pea.”

“Oh,” she says thoughtfully, “then I’m ready.”

We round the corner near the garage just as the drivers begin filtering in from media. The second Lando sees us, he lets out a loud, “OH MY GOD, IT’S HER!” and bolts across the concrete.

She ducks shyly into my shoulder, giggling, and Alex just smiles like he’s never loved anything more in his life.

Lando drops to his knees in front of her like he’s proposing. “Hi. Hello. I’m your uncle. I have stickers, a juice box, and very mixed feelings about your father’s deception.”

She blinks. “What’s ‘deception’?”

Alex chimes in dryly. “It’s when Uncle Lando doesn’t let Daddy win at video games.”

“Ohhh,” she says, nodding solemnly, as if she understands the betrayal.

Lando beams, already peeling sparkly stickers off a roll. “You’re my favorite person.”

Just behind him, Carlos, Charles, and George appear, all equally stunned and quietly emotional.

Carlos puts a hand over his heart. “She’s real.”

“She’s so small,” George whispers, tearing up immediately. “I don’t know what I expected but it wasn’t this much cuteness in one unit.”

Charles crouches down gently, holding out a hand. “Bonjour, petite princesse. Je suis Charles.”

Our daughter glances at me and I nod, so she reaches out and high-fives him — very serious, very precise.

Charles makes the most dramatic gasp. “Elle m’aime. I’m done. I’m finished. She can have my car. Take it. It’s hers.”

“She can’t drive,” Alex points out, laughing.

“She can learn,” Charles says, wiping fake tears.

Carlos leans in closer. “Does she like fruit snacks?”

“She likes grape fruit snacks,” I say.

He pulls a pack from his jacket like he’s been preparing for this day his entire life. “I’m your favorite now, sí?”

She takes the snack and gives him a small, approving nod. “Sí.”

Carlos clutches his chest.

By the time Oscar and Lewis arrive, she’s sitting on a stack of spare tires, swinging her legs and sharing stickers with George, who is lying on the ground letting her decorate his face.

Oscar’s jaw drops. “She’s already more popular than me.”

Lewis just smiles warmly. “It’s because she has her mother’s presence.”

Alex glances at me, hand sliding into mine. “She has your everything.”

Lewis kneels in front of her. “You must be very brave coming into the paddock. Would you like to see the garage?”

Her eyes widen, then she looks up at me for confirmation.

I nod. “Go with Daddy and Uncle Lewis, baby. I’ll be right here.”

She clutches her bunny and hops off the tire stack, sliding her hand into Alex’s. “Can Bunny wear the headphones too?”

“We’ll get him his own pair,” Alex promises.

As they walk off, the little pack of drivers falling into step around them like a security detail, I feel something soft settle in my chest. She’s not a secret anymore. She’s here. Loved. Seen. Safe. And as Lewis leans down to adjust her little headphones, and George keeps proudly wearing a glitter sticker heart on his forehead, and Charles dramatically fans her with his Ferrari cap, I realize— She doesn’t just have this world now. She owns it. And we do, too.

—

I never thought I’d be here. Not just here in the paddock, not just here with Alex — but here, in an open-top classic car, crawling down the track in front of thousands of fans… with our three-year-old daughter sitting between us, waving like she’s the president of the FIA. She’s in a tiny Williams race suit they gifted her this morning — complete with her name stitched in pink thread over the heart. Her headphones are practically swallowing her whole head, and her bunny, as usual, is in her lap. She has no idea she’s the reason the internet is losing its collective mind. She’s just thrilled to have a flag to wave.

“She’s loving this,” I say quietly to Alex, watching her wave with both arms like she’s done this a thousand times before.

Alex chuckles under his breath, eyes on her like he still can’t believe she’s real. “She’s a natural. She belongs here.”

“You mean with you?” I tease.

“I mean with us,” he says simply. “You belong here too.”

I lean into him just a little, letting myself enjoy it. The sun’s warm. The crowd’s louder than usual — but I know now that a lot of that noise is for her. For us. And for once, it doesn’t scare me.

Alex reaches across her to squeeze my hand. “You okay?”

I nod. “More than okay.”

Behind us, I hear someone yell.

“LOOK AT HER!” George is standing in the next car over, clutching his chest like he’s having a religious experience. “She’s waving like she’s running for office. I’d vote for her.”

“She’s got my vote,” Lando shouts.

“She can have my car,” Charles adds, jogging up beside us, offering her a fresh can of juice like it's tribute to a princess. “Tell your papa to retire. We’ve got this handled.”

“She can’t reach the pedals,” I laugh.

“She’ll grow,” Charles insists. “I’ll wait.”

Carlos pulls up in his own car just ahead, twisting around so he’s facing us backwards. “Does she want another flag? I’ve got three.”

Our daughter gasps and takes it immediately. “Thank you, Mr. Carlos!”

“Mr. Carlos.” he clutches his chest dramatically, like he’s been knighted.

“Do I even exist anymore?” Alex jokes.

I just laugh and shake my head. “You had your moment. She’s the main character now.”

She leans her cheek against Alex’s shoulder, smiling up at both of us like this is all perfectly normal — like she’s meant to be on a Formula 1 parade route with twenty world-class drivers treating her like royalty.

“Wave one more time, baby,” I say gently.

She pops up to her knees between us, raises her flag in one hand and her bunny in the other, and gives the biggest wave yet. The crowd erupts.

“Someone threw glitter,” Alex murmurs, completely stunned.

“I think she’s bigger than you now,” I say.

He glances at me. “She always was.”

And maybe she’ll never understand this moment — the cameras, the noise, the drivers who love her like their own — but I will. We will. Because this isn’t just her first driver parade. It’s the first time we stopped hiding and started living. Together. Out loud. As a family.

—

alexalbon

liked by yn_albon, lando, georgerussell63 & 14,090,002 others.

alexalbon : well...secret is out. i have the most gorgeous wife in the world and the sweetest little girl who is about to have a baby sister:)

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spookysanta · 13 days ago

Text

Old Man. (MBJ)

Summary: You love to clown Michael about his age. But you quickly learn — again and again — that he might have a couple greys in his beard, but there’s nothing old about him.

Pairing: Michael B. Jordan x Younger!Reader

Warnings: SMUTTTTTTTT, overstimulation, squirting, rough sex, hair pulling, rough oral (m!receiveing), oral (both), slight degradation, insatiable!Michael, this is an amalgamation of a bunch of scenes i was too slutty to cut out

who's ready to get fucked uppppp! another item checked off my heathen draft checklist. have i been working on this for the last two weeks while i'm at work? yes. am i sorry? no. i'm salaried. i still got paid. so we're good! pleaaaaase send me some asks if you've got any ideas for a new fic. thxxxx

MINORS DNI PLS

The night started with a simple movie, a hoodie you stole from him and refused to return, your bare legs curled in his lap. One of his hands was lazily resting on your thigh, the other nursing a glass of dark liquor.

You were supposed to be relaxing.

But you just couldn’t help yourself.

Michael stretched, arms overhead, back arching slightly, and the obscene series of cracks that popped from his shoulders echoed around the living room. You paused the movie, turned slowly toward him, blinking with faux concern. “…That was your bones?”

He gave you a side-eye. “Don’t start.”

“I thought the popcorn bag was poppin’ again,” you grinned, eyes gleaming. “You okay, grandpa?”

“Keep playin’ with me,” he warned, sipping slowly.

You leaned in, faux whispering like you were trying to protect his pride. “You want me to grab the Bengay, or you good?”

Michael didn’t respond at first. Just held your gaze. Silent. Calm. Then slowly, dangerously calm, he said with a hum, “Aight. Bet.”

You giggled like it was nothing. But you felt it. The shift. His hand flexed a little tighter on your thigh. His jaw ticked. And you – naive, sweet, stupid little you – kept pushing.

When the credits rolled on The Wood and he said something about seeing it back in the day, you really lost it. “Baaaaaabe,” you gasped through laughter. “I was literally in diapers. That’s crazy. You were watchin’ Mike and Slim get into fights over girls and I was still eating applesauce and watchin’ Blue’s Clues.”

Michael just stared at you. Blank face. The kind of silence that spelled your doom.

And you were wheezing. Bent over, laughing like you paid yourself to do stand-up. You slapped his chest. “I’m–I’m sorry, I’m just saying, that’s before my ti–AH!”

You didn’t get the chance to finish the sentence.

Because in one swift motion, Michael grabbed you by the waist and flipped you onto your back. Your head bounced lightly against the couch pillow, laughter dying in your throat as his full weight pressed down over you. His hand wrapped around both your wrists and pinned them above your head. And his voice, low, deadly, and smug, brushed right along your jaw. “You done?”

“…Maybe.”

He tilted his head. “Oh, you're cute today, huh?”

“Always.”

He smirked. But there was nothing funny in the way his other hand slid down your body, skimming under the hem of your borrowed hoodie to brush over your bare stomach.

“Y’know what’s not funny?” he asked. “You thinkin’ any of these lil boys you messed with before me could ever do what I do to you.”

You blinked. Your mouth parted but no words came out.

“That’s what I thought.”

And then? Then he dragged his hand into your shorts.

You gasped, hips bucking, but he pinned you tighter, shushing you like you were interrupting him. “Still wanna play?” he murmured, fingers slipping into your folds. “Still wanna talk shit?”

Your voice cracked. “Michael–”

“Say it with your chest, baby,” he mocked. “You had all that mouth five minutes ago.”

You were soaked. Embarrassingly so. And he felt it.

“See?” he whispered, brushing your clit in slow, punishing circles. “This is why I don’t take you seriously. You talk like I can’t handle you, but your pussy doesn't know how to act when I put hands on you.”

You whimpered. And that’s when your phone buzzed on the coffee table.

The screen lit up. Tati. You knew she’d be asking something ridiculous. Probably a meme. Probably an “is this you and Michael” message. You tried to reach for it against his grip, but he snatched your wrists into a tighter hold.

“Oh no,” he tsked, feigning disappointment. “You're busy right now, remember?”

“Michael–”

He didn’t even let you finish. Slid two fingers deep inside, curling just right, watching you fall apart beneath him. “You gon’ apologize?” he asked calmly, thumb still teasing, pace brutal in its precision. “Or you want me to keep proving my point?”

“I’m–I’m sorry,” you gasped. “I didn’t mean–”

“Oh, you meant it,” he growled, sliding down your body, lips dragging along your inner thigh. “And now I mean to make you forget every one of your little jokes.”

You should’ve known better.

He warned you. Gave you every chance to stop. But no. Your ass just had to crack jokes, had to flex your youth, your smart-ass mouth, like he wasn’t twice the man any of those little boys before him ever dreamed of being.

And now look at you. Legs shaking. Breath caught in your lungs like you had to think about how to exhale. And you weren’t even in the bedroom yet.

Michael tossed the blanket aside, arms hooking under your knees as he stood, lifting you like you didn’t weigh a damn thing. Your shorts were still tangled around one ankle,like a taunt to modesty. He didn’t bother fixing them.

You clung to his hoodie, face buried in the fabric, chest heaving.

He didn’t say much as he carried you. Just huffed a laugh under his breath and muttered, “Mouth still workin’? Or I finally fucked the jokes outta you?”

You whimpered something that might’ve been a word.

“Mmhm. Thought so.”

The hallway was a blur of shadows and low light, his footsteps heavy and steady. He kicked the bedroom door open and dropped you down in the center of the bed. You bounced once as your back hit the duvet, hair spilling around your face, thighs trembling, eyes wide.

The hoodie came off in one fluid pull, revealing his torso. Chocolate skin, broad chest, sweat-slick abs that flexed with every move. His sweatpants followed, slow, deliberate, dragging down inch by inch until he stepped out of them.

Your eyes darted to the bulge in his boxers. And honestly, you hated how much that made your mouth water. And as if he knew –

“On your knees.” His voice cracked like thunder.

You blinked, snapping out of your daze. “Wh–”

“Don’t make me repeat myself.” his index finger – the one that was just inside you downstairs, actually, how ironic – pointed to the carpet as if to say duh.

You obeyed. Legs weak. Sliding off the bed, you stared up at him, lips parted, still dazed from what he’d done to you on the couch.

He gripped your jaw, tilting your face. “You think I’m old, baby?” he asked, stroking the side of your throat with his thumb.

You shook your head.

“No?” he smirked. “Then why you walkin’ around like I can’t break you in half if I wanted to?”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t.

His hand slid into your hair, fisting just tight enough to make you gasp, and he brought your mouth to him like it was owed. Like it was yours to worship.

You sucked him off like your life depended on it. Eagerly, desperately, like he was air and you’d been drowning. He groaned low in his throat, head thrown back as you took him slow and deep, letting him guide your movements until his grip tightened and he cursed under his breath.

“That’s it,” he growled. “Take it. Show me how much that smart mouth really loves me.”

You moaned, messy and wet, tears clinging to your lashes when he finally pulled away and lifted you back onto the bed. You didn’t get a second to breathe before he was over you again, cock heavy and hot between your thighs, one hand pinning your wrists above your head, the other handling his cock at your entrance.

“You remember what you said earlier?” he asked, tone so low it rumbled in your chest.

“…no–”

He slammed into you in one stroke. Your body arched. “Oh fuck–”

“You remember now?”

You screamed. Not a yell, not a moan. Like an actual scream. He grinned like he was proud of himself, then started moving.

Every thrust hit home. Deep. Unrelenting. Your legs were spread wide, locked around his waist. The bedframe slammed the wall in time with your gasps. He kissed you hard, tongue claiming your mouth, then dragged his lips down your neck, your chest, your breasts – biting, sucking, devouring.

“You like talkin’ shit?” he panted, his strokes turning savage. “Then go ahead. Say somethin’ now.”

You couldn’t. You weren’t even forming words anymore. Just sobbing into the pillow, clawing at the sheets above you like you’d fall apart if you let go.

“That’s what I thought.”

He kept going. Harder. Slower. Rougher. One leg thrown over his shoulder, your body bent and folded to take him as deep as humanly possible.

He watched you fall apart. The way your stomach trembled, your chest heaved, your jaw dropped in that perfect O as your body convulsed around him and you came so hard you forgot how to breathe.

But he wasn’t done.

Not until he’d fucked you through the mattress.

Not until he’d made you cum again. And again. And again.

Not until you were crying his name and begging for mercy.

Not until he collapsed on top of you, both of you sweat-drenched and broken, your body twitching through the aftershocks under his like you were still recovering from an exorcism.

He kissed your temple. Brushed damp hair back from your face. Whispered against your skin. “Still think I’m old?”

You shook your head, unable to form a thought.

“Yeah. Didn’t think so.”

–

Morning sunlight streamed in through the blinds, soft and golden, casting lines across your bare legs tangled in the sheets. The house was quiet except for the hum of the fridge and the faint sizzle of bacon coming from the kitchen.

Michael stood at the stove in nothing but gray sweats, his broad back flexing as he flipped pancakes like he didn’t break you in half the night before. He was whistling.

Whistling.

Happy. Clearly very pleased with himself.

You walked in gingerly, hair still messy, hoodie thrown over your sore body, and the slightest limp in your step.

He clocked it immediately. “Mornin’, baby,” he said over his shoulder, smug as hell. Bastard. “Sleep good?”

You shot him a glare that held no real weight. “You tried to rearrange my spinal column.”

Michael grinned. “Did I succeed?”

You narrowed your eyes but didn’t answer. Just grabbed a cup from the cabinet, poured yourself some juice, and leaned against the counter.

“I was nice,” he said. “You had jokes, remember? I was just tryna make sure you remembered who you were talkin’ to.”

“Mm,” you sipped. “Could’ve just shown me your driver’s license, old man.”

It slipped out before you could stop it. The room went still.

You froze.

Michael turned his head slow. Real slow. That little crooked smile stretched across his face like a wolf baring its teeth. “What was that?”

You slapped your hand over your mouth like that would undo it. Eyes wide. Shaking your head like no no no nope didn’t say that, even though the evidence was loud and clear.

His brows lifted. “Really?”

You were gone before he could put the spatula down. “BABE–!” you yelped, darting out of the kitchen, juice sloshing dangerously in your cup.

Unfortunately for you, you didn’t make it very far.

Michael stalked after you, bare feet against the floor like a threat, laughing deep and dark from the back of his throat. “Oh nah. Don’t run now. You were BOLD a second ago!”

You threw the juice cup on the hallway table and made a sharp left toward the bedroom, sliding sock-footed like a cartoon character. “I take it BACK!”

“You meant it!” he shouted, footsteps getting louder.

“I DIDN’T, I SWEAR–”

He caught you halfway through the doorway, arms around your waist, lifting you right off the ground like you weighed nothing. You screamed through laughter, legs kicking. “Kari!”

“Nah, keep that same energy!” he said, tossing you onto the bed.

You bounced once. Tried to scramble away.

He pounced, landing right on top of you, pinning your wrists above your head like last night was muscle memory, like he was built for this. You squealed, squirmed, already breathless with laughter and anticipation. “ See, I was gonna let you rest,” he said, shaking his head like he was disappointed in you. “I really was.”

“You should,” you said weakly. “You’re probably still sore–”

He kissed you hard, swallowing the laugh before it could leave your throat. “Too late.”

His mouth moved down your jaw, to your throat, down to where the hoodie was barely hanging on your body. “You wanna keep acting up?” he grumbled, dragging the hoodie up over your hips. “Cool. Let me show you what happens when you play too much.”

You writhed beneath him, still laughing, but it was panicked now. Desperate. Your body remembered exactly what he did to you last night. The ache between your thighs hadn’t even faded. But Michael wasn’t interested in mercy. Not when you kept calling him old.

He peeled your hoodie off entirely, exposing your bare chest, your soft belly, the deep grooves of finger-shaped bruises blooming along your hips like love notes. “Damn, baby,” he muttered, dragging his knuckles down the side of your ribs. “I did all this?”

You nodded, cheeks hot, lips parted.

He grinned. “Good.”

He moved slow(er) this time, kissing your neck.

Sweet. Soft. Which only made it worse.

Ugh. Just punish me, already! You thought, brows furrowed in anticipation.

He worked down your body like he had all the time in the world, tongue tracing lazy circles on your collarbone, his hands kneading your thighs until your toes curled into the sheets. “You remember the rules, right?” he murmured, pressing open-mouthed kisses between your breasts. “Smart mouths get shut up.”

You whimpered.

“Wanna test me again?”

You shook your head.

He smirked. “Nah, you do. That’s why you ran.” Then he bit your inner thigh. Not hard. Just enough to make you yelp.

You didn’t get to process when his mouth was on you again.

He released your wrists to spread you open with his thumbs, flattening his tongue against your clit and dragging it slowly back and forth. No rush, no mercy. Just languid, wet strokes, over and over, until your back arched and your fingers clawed the sheets.

You moaned loud, tried to close your legs.

He held them open. He made you take it. Made you feel every inch of his tongue, the press of his nose, the scrape of his teeth.

His one – devious, downright evil – goal was to make you cum. As many times, and as violently, as he could. When you came, it hit you like a ton of bricks.

Your whole body shook. You sobbed out his name. Your thighs clamped tight around his face and he didn’t move. Just moaned into your pussy like it got him high.

When he finally pulled away, your eyes were glassy. Michael crawled back up your body, slow and heavy, dragging his cock against your still-throbbing center. “I want you to feel me this time,” he whispered. “Every stroke. Every inch.”

You whimpered, trying to close your legs. But he just slid between them again, lined himself up, and sank into you to the hilt with a deep thrust that knocked air out of your lungs.

Your mouth dropped open, no sound coming out at all.

Michael didn’t move. Just watched your face. Studied the way your lashes fluttered, the way your hands scrambled to hold on to something. “You okay, baby?” he asked, voice thick, teasing.

You nodded weakly.

He leaned in close, lips brushing your ear. “Good. ‘Cause I’m just getting started.”

Then he pulled out painfully slow… and slammed back in.

He kept the pace like that. Slow, heavy, unrelenting. Your nails carved red lines down his back but he didn’t stop. Just kept fucking you like he was trying to leave a permanent impression, like your body was a memory foam mattress and he was trying to stamp his name into it.

“Still think I’m old?” he grunted, biting your shoulder.

You shook your head. “Mm-mm–”

“Say it.”

“You’re not–fuck–you’re not old, Michael, please–”

He snapped his hips harder, and you shattered again, crying out, your orgasm crashing through you like a wave breaking over rocks.

But he still didn’t stop. “You wanted to act up?” he panted, fucking you through it. “Now you gon’ take all of this.”

You weren’t even speaking anymore. Just babbling, trembling, letting him use your body however he wanted.

And when he finally came, spilling deep inside, teeth gritted, groaning your name like a prayer, you were limp. Gone. A complete puddle of ecstasy melted into the mattress, eyes unfocused, mouth slack.

He collapsed on top of you, chest to chest, hearts pounding together. For a long time, the only sound in the room was your breathing and his heartbeat in your ear. And then, Michael pulled back, kissed your nose, and brushed sweat-slick hair off your forehead. “You gon’ behave now?”

You couldn’t speak.. just gave him a dazed thumbs up.

Michael laughed. Laughed, kissed your cheek again, and stood up, stretching like he hadn’t just turned you into pulp. “I’ll get you some water.”

As he walked out of the room, still naked, still grinning, you let your hand fall over your face and whispered to no one in particular: “…I need to mind my business.”

Later, as the morning bled into the afternoon and found yourself tangled in his embrace, eyes closed in a blissful daze, you felt something.

Movement.

The kind of movement to make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Your eyes popped open, all inklings of drowsiness leaving your body.

And there he was, towering above you like he was hunting. Michael slid back down your body, eyes locked on yours. He didn’t say a word; just spread you out again, thighs pushed open with his forearms locked tight beneath them. You were too tired to fight his insatiability. And frankly, you deserved more love-making than the brutal punishment he’d provided two days in a row.

But there was no warm-up. He didn’t offer any teasing. No playful licks. His lips locked around your clit and put his tongue to work like his life depended on it. And these are the moments where he was most dangerous.

Because Michael didn’t eat pussy to make you cum.

He ate you out like he was trying to ruin you for every man who would ever think about stepping to you again.

Like he wanted a piece of you to keep with him at all times.

Like your orgasm was a challenge, and his ego would never let him lose.

Your back arched the second his tongue hit just right at that spot – laid flat and wide.

You tried reaching for something – anything – for purchase, but your fingers just clawed the sheets. Your legs twitched, tried to close, but his forearms locked tighter, his way of saying you weren’t going anywhere, without his mouth ever leaving your aching cunt.

“About to cum already?” he murmured between strokes. His lips glistened, beard damp with your juices, tongue still circling slow. “I just started, baby.”

You whined, almost wanting to climb out of your skin. The pleasure, the overstimulation, the ache that still burned in your hips when you tried to wriggle away… it was too much.

But then came the fingers.

His index and middle fingers sunk perfectly deep inside, your hole practically begging for them to enter. Curling up with pinpoint accuracy, pressing against that spot that made you curse god. He didn’t even break rhythm, tongue still flicking, lips never letting go, while his fingers pumped in and out of you with intent.

It was absolutely filthy the way he knew exactly how to unravel you.

And before you could even think – you couldn’t stop it. Your body snapped, and the orgasm hit like a tidal wave – violent, raw, loud. “Michael–!”

But he didn’t stop. Didn’t pause. Didn’t even linger to come up for air.

If anything, he got hungrier. “You’re not done,” he growled, voice muffled against your clit. “Give me another.”

You cried out, shaking your head. A shallow “Uh-uh” escaped your throat in protest, but your hips bucked into his mouth like your body had already betrayed you.

And then… you felt the build. The tingle. That oh-so sickeningly-sweet, painfully-blissful pressure low in your belly that warned you it was about to get messy. “No–Michael, please, I–”

“You what?” he taunted. “Gon’ squirt for me?”

You whined.

“Go ahead, baby. Fuckin’ drench me.”

Your brain couldn’t move fast enough before your thighs clamped around his face and the gush of it hit hard everywhere, hot and wet like a flood. His face, his mouth, his chest. And the bed – the poor bed – was completely soaked. Your body shook, back arched so hard it felt like you’d ascended to heaven, and you screamed his name like an apology for every utterance of the word “old” within his earshot.

Michael moaned. Like, actually.

Like it turned him on, like the taste of you soaking his face made his cock twitch, made his hunger double. He kept licking, sloppy now, messy, his beard slick and jaw locked like he wanted every last drop.

You tried to crawl back. Pull away. “It’s t-too m-much, Michael, I c-can’t–”

He grabbed your hips, yanked you right back down to his mouth. “I said give me another.”

You sobbed as he dragged it out of you… over and over. Until your body was wrung dry, twitching with aftershocks, tears streaming down your cheeks, thighs sticky and shaking, voice hoarse from screaming.

When he finally pulled back, he looked up at you like he just conquered something sacred – his lips swollen, his beard wet, and his chest heaving.

You were a ruined, soaked mess on the bed. But Michael…

Michael looked refreshed. Smug. Charged. Like every drop of you he swallowed sent lightning straight to his cock – and he was still starving. “You still with me, baby?” he asked, even though he could see the answer written all over your face: dazed, eyes glossy, mouth parted and gasping.

You managed a nod. A twitch of your fingers.

He grinned like that was permission enough. “Then turn over.”

You didn’t move – more specifically, you couldn’t move.

So he flipped you face-down into the sheets, hips yanked up and back until you were on your knees, your ass arched high and your chest pressed low into the mattress. You could barely hold yourself up as your thighs shook. Your pussy was swollen and glistening, practically pulsing in desperation

Michael just groaned. “Look at this fuckin’ pussy,” he muttered behind you, dragging his fingers through the slick. You jolted. “Still drippin’ for me. Still open. You meant it when you said I was old, huh? That's why you actin’ up?”

You shook your head into the pillow.

He slapped your ass. Just once. Sharp. “That was a question.”

“No,” you gasped. “I didn’t–I didn’t mean it–”

“Oh you absolutely did,” Grabbing his cock and lining it up with your entrance, taunting the hole with his leaking head. “And now you gon’ take what you started.”

The air rushed out of your lungs as he pushed into you again. Your knees nearly gave out, but his hand was already fisting in your hair, pulling your head up as he started to fuck you deep.

He didn’t dare to fuck you fast. Well, not yet, at least. Just long, heavy strokes that pressed every inch of him into you until you were babbling nonsense. Your mouth hung open. Drool hit the sheets. “Oh my God–”

Michael just moaned behind you, gripping your hip with one hand, your hair with the other, driving into you like he was building something permanent. “You feel that?” he growled, dragging his cock out slow, then slamming back in hard. “Ain’t no little boy ever made you feel like this.”

“Michael–”

He yanked your head back, lips brushing your ear. “Say it.”

You sobbed. “No one–no one ever–fuck, baby–”

“You gon’ behave now?”

You nodded, tears spilling down your cheeks.

But he wasn’t finished – even though you relented, he still wasn’t satisfied, while your pussy was still fluttering around him like it couldn’t stand to be empty, and while your thighs were sticky and trembling from rounds one and two (and three, honestly) and you still had more to give.

He dropped your hair and pressed his palm between your shoulder blades, pushing you flat into the bed. He grabbed your wrists, pinning them down behind your back, and fucked into you hard, truly punishing you like the ragdoll he loved to turn you into.

Your voice cracked as you squirted again, just a little, just enough to make him growl. “You like this shit,” he spat, slapping your ass again. “You love actin’ up just to get fucked stupid.”

You didn’t even try to deny it. Because you were already cumming on his cock again, a silent scream stuck in your throat, your whole body convulsing as you lost yourself.

And he followed you over the edge not long after – the hold on your hips gripping you so tight you’d feel everything tomorrow, spilling deep inside you with a loud shuddering moan and a gasp of your name, head thrown back.

He pulled out slow, collapsing onto the mattress and pulling you into him, your back to his chest. The mess between you two was evidence of your punishment(s), though all he wanted in that moment was to kiss the back of your neck and shoulders as you both came down from your highs.

“You still think I’m old?” he whispered, smug as hell.

You groaned. “I think… I need physical therapy.”

Michael laughed. “Good. I’ll make the appointment for us.”

Tags: @blackisy2k @hamzahsf4vg1rl @siasoup @heyyimmisunderstood@mirathebookworm @iluvv.angel @blondfortheweekend @Plan3tCh1ld @remcycles@browngirldominion @smokestackenrgy @marvel-dork98 @chaneajoyyy@jackierose902109 @Secretisme4 @marley1773 @wrldfantasy @remcycles @bxrbie1@pinkprincessluminary @honestlyurslol @bxrbie1 @uhhh-nunyabidniz-heaux@nybearsworld @eclecticblkgirl @corvusmorte @yallsuck-00 @glambyk @Siqeth @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful @xoxo-lai @perfectlyimperfectme @Mea-bby @kianaleani@prettiest1ittleliar @Mejustme06 @kpop-servant @kneelarhmstrung @rossie-things@thatssonani @esachicaa@ajenae @adornn4jadaa @Kindofaintrovert @bigpumpum18@famousphilosopherwombat @Transparentphantomface @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful@theesmartblonde @-harmonytbh @jiminsjams123 @li-da-savage @Fckwritersblock @christinabae @Tianna-blanche @queenofklonnie22 @marley1773 @Secret89sblog @secretisme4 @nybearsworld @jackierose902109 @spideyxakmighty2 @rossie-things@Sharpaysbestfriend @chrome-edition @Mulanii9 @blackgurlkillinit @soniaangels @pinkprincessluminary @bxunyx @venusesworld @flipsidefever @dangerouslylunarwind @writingsbytee @sheabutterbabes @c-grace56 @turbulentvoids @Stankface @mimellowdi @vintigepimpzinio @bedstarz @thesmutconnoisseur @iceyyycapsicle @theesexyyaquariuss @lovey-3 @sowhatariyana @ariiaellbtheedonn @melinatedlifeline @Nyifly22 @Jayyybird221 @pinkpantheris @naenae479 @Keaenzie @melinatedlifeline @Smokestackenergy @tyneshaaa @fanfictiononly4 @Jayyybird211 @melinatedlifeline @Stankface @beedici @Chynah—doll @Hollyleelee99 @prettygirlwrld @bbykel @secretisme4 @Yeaiamme2 @kristings7 @solitudedanii @singularepiphany @motheroffae @smokestackenergy @christinabae @chuwooooo @aretasreads @5starsirl @drdimplesjdrdimplesj @thesweetestdrug @Nysrevenge @keyaho @coldeforprez @Dollyblush222 @Suzysface @zomqiez @kxndrixx @Monstaxmomma0 @bl3ssyn @derangedangel

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#michael b jordan #michael b jordan x black reader #x black woman #x black reader #michael b jordan x reader #michael b jordan smut #michael b. jordan #mbj x reader #x you #x reader #x y/n #x you smut #x y/n smut #add to masterlist #spookysanta #x black girl #x black y/n #x black fem reader #mbj

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goatgoesmbe · 5 months ago

Text

When you're divorced to Price, you're not divorced to the team

Johnny still tried and invite you to everything they're doing, whether it is some kind of celebration or simple hangout.

And you felt rude to deny it, just because you're divorced.. doesn't mean you should stop having mutual friends with your ex-husband right?

Kyle still texted you from time to time, asking if you baked anything today. Making not so subtle hints of him- and the others, missing your baking.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you saw John walking past the door. You didn't know why, but you did save one cupcake. So as the others were occupied, you snuck away to put it on his desk.

So you visited their base, carrying a box of cupcakes in the rec room as you watched them demolish your work- oh god the cupcake wrap isn't edible Johnny.

And Simon?

Well.. before you were divorced, John used to make him keep an eye on you since he was too busy with work. Being your guard dog when you hang out around the base, or to take care of stuff if you have any trouble at home.

Like right now.

"Simon, i'm so, sorry about this- i already called a plumber and for some reason they canceled last minute, and I just can't wait another day to get it fixed-" You rambled as you watched him look at what's wrong with your washing machine, days worth of laundry piling up near it.

"It's alright" He simply responded. "Don't bother calling them next time, you have me" he added.

Then there's Laswell.

You've always got along so well with her, so it wasn't a surprise when she invited you to a ceremony where she would renew her vow with her wife.

It's been a while since you doll up properly and wear a dress. But you try to not feel self-conscious as you stepped out of your car. You didn't want to give your ex-husband the satisfaction. You wanted to look fine, more than fine, like the divorce didn't affect you.

It was easier said than done with the way you could feel his eyes from across the room as you tried to ignore him and focus on your conversation with Kate and her wife.

Goddamn, can he stop that, he's really making you nervous.

Sighing, you took a sip of a champagne that was served. Maybe the alcohol would help.

...

You woke up with a throbbing headache and turned your head to groan at the fluffy pillow. Fuck, you drank too much.

Opening your eyes slowly, you blinked when you saw a figure lying beside you.

John.

John?!

Your head throbbed even more when you sat up too fast. Looking under the blanket, you sighed when you see that you're clothed at least. Even though it wasn't the dress you wore last night.

Sighing, your gaze shifted to the man beside you and took in the scene that was too familiar to you once upon a time.

Against your better judgement, you laid back down. And for some reason, you didn't move away when a pair of strong arms wrapped around your waist.

Why did you divorce him again?

#call of duty #call of duty x reader #price x reader #john price #captain price #task force 141 #tf 141 #cod 141 #mbe's price

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jeonginsleftcheek · 7 months ago

Text

Nothing I wouldn't do

pairing: handyman!chan x waitress!reader

genre: hurt/comfort, suggestive

synopsis: you and chan have been together for 3 years. he has never done anything to make you doubt his love for you, but recently you noticed him sneaking out at night...

wc: 2.4k

warnings: mentions of blood/injuries, brief descriptions of lovemaking, crying

a/n: i'm tired and preparing a really long fic so i needed a little break, hope you enjoy🫶🏻

~masterlist

Another long shift finally finished, a dull ache appeared in your feet, coursing through your legs and climbing up to your lower back.

There was a headache behind your eyelids, a constant slow pounding that almost made your vision blurry.

You felt overwhelmed, discouraged and hungry.

Today was a particularly difficult day at the restaurant you work at, exhausting you to your limits and pushing you further.

Another reason your anxiety spiked up was because you got yelled at by your manager for something that wasn't entirely your fault and you had to bite your tongue and swallow your tears like you always do.

As you stepped out into the street, the dark night enveloping you, your tired legs started taking you on the familiar path to your home.

You were barely awake as you walked, the people passing you by looked blurry and unrecognizable, you couldn't even make out their faces.

You closed your eyes for a second, but that was one second too long as you tripped on the cracked sidewalk and fell down, scraping your hands and knees in the process.

"Miss, are you alright?" someone crouched down to help you.

"Yes, yes I'm fine." you said to the stranger, your tears blurring your vision of their face.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, thank you." you tried to be polite, hoping they would back off because now you wanted to get home even faster.

You continued walking, now in more pain as the wind picked up, grazing your bleeding skin.

Tears streamed down your cheeks quietly as the sky became darker.

You picked up your pace, realizing it will soon start raining.

Arriving to your building just in time, you ran inside and up the stairs to the 6th and last floor where you and your boyfriend lived.

He was working even later than you today, so he couldn't pick you up as his work lead him across town for the time being.

Rain started pouring outside just as you managed to close the door to your apartment, smacking it into place multiple times until it finally clicked.

You quickly ran to grab some buckets as the roof was flimsy, whenever it rained, your apartment would be drenched in water too unless you strategically placed the buckets so they could collect the raindrops.

After doing that, you finally caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and cringed.

You were still in your waitress unifrom, your hair now a mess, mascara streaks on your cheeks from crying, your hands and legs covered in bloody scratches.

You decided to quickly clean up so you can make dinner for Chan and yourself, preferably before he arrives home.

Swallowing more tears that threatened to come out, you made your way to the bathroom to clean up.

Luckily, you had hot water finally, the last three months you had to somehow survive without it once your water heater broke.

Sometimes you took double shifts at the restaurant, or just begged your boss to let you work without a day off.

Chan hated when you did that, hated seeing you so tired that you barely stood on your feet, your eyes sad and distant when you'd come home.

He begged you not to do it, promising he'd find a way to make more money, promising that he'll take care of you, telling you how you deserve better which you'd quickly shut down, not wanting him to feel guilty because it wasn't his fault.

It wasn't yours either, that's just how the cards were dealt and the two of you were trying your best to make something out of nothing.

Chan arrived just in time as you were finishing up with dinner, a smile gracing his tired face as soon as he saw you standing before the stove, dressed in his shirt.

You looked at him over your shoulder and though he could see the tiredness on your features, to him you looked more and more beautiful every single day.

"Hey, baby." you greeted him just as he wrapped his arms around you, your tired muscles instantly melting into his warmth and comfort.

You could fall asleep standing if you weren't so hungry.

"Love." he hummed against you, leaning over your shoulder to kiss the corner of your lips. "Smells nice." Chan nuzzled into your hair, taking a whiff of your shampoo.

"What, the food or me?" you chuckled, teasing him.

"Both." he giggled, gently moving you left and right as he tightened his hold on you.

"Go wash up then, it's almost done." you said, his hands coming up to touch yours.

That's when he noticed the scratches, panic overtaking him instantly as he gently grabbed your wrists.

"What happened?" he asked, a shaky breath escaping his lips.

"I fell. It's nothing." you quickly shook your head but he spun you around before you could even protest.

"Babe, your legs." Chan gasped.

"It's fine, really. It doesn't hurt too much." you averted your eyes.

His fingers came up to touch your chin as he made you look at him.

"I'll pick you up next time, I promise. Even if I have to speed across the city."

"Don't even think about that." you shivered, negative thoughts appearing in your mind instantly.

If you lost him, you wouldn't have anything.

"Okay, okay, I'll go wash up." he kissed you gently before skipping to the bathroom.

You served dinner on the small table, your plates clinking together as you tried to make it look somewhat presentable.

These little things always made a difference.

The fresh flowers on your windowsill, the pretty tablecloth you managed to find for a cheap price, a warm home cooked meal, your lover sitting across from you with a smile on his face.

The space was so cramped that your knees were pressed up together but in the case of the two of you, close could never be close enough.

You know Chan would gladly crawl right into your heart if you could keep him there, safe and sound.

He helped you wash the dishes, both of you talking about your day like you always do.

"That place is a shithole, y/n. You deserve so much better. Your manager is a fucking knucklehead. Do you want me to rough him up a little?" Chan asked, setting the clean plate aside.

You chuckled, smacking his bicep playfully as you peered up at him.

"Yes, get me fired. Save me from that hellhole." you joked with a dramatic hand to your forehead.

"You know you could always look at other places."

"Isn't it just the same thing? I don't have many qualifications anyways."

"I know but maybe a different restaurant has a better manager if nothing else." Chan offers, as you lean on the sink, wiping your hands.

"Or they could be even worse." you said as he stood before you, his arms landing on your waist.

Chan leaned in to kiss you, slowly and lovingly, your stomach doing all sorts of flips like you haven't been together for years, like you haven't done this before.

"How about we stop talking about work and start talking about more fun topics?" you wiggled your eyebrows at him as your arms wrapped around his shoulders, fingers grazing his muscles, on display for you as he wore his tanktop.

"You're not in pain?" he motioned to your thighs and arms, still stinging albeit dulled now.

"I trust you to be gentle." you stood on your tippy toes to kiss him again, your hands holding his cheeks.

The two of you fell into a lovers embrace, tongues entwined, fingertips gently exploring, your cores connected in a heated movement that ended in pure bliss.

"I love you." you whispered as Chan scooped you up in his protective arms.

"I love you, darling." he kissed your temple as you drifted off to sleep.

You noticed it for the first time that same night.

You were so exhausted, jolted out of your deep sleep that you thought you were hallucinating when you saw Chan's figure walking towards the door and disappearing.

Your eyes fell to the clock next to your bed, reading 2am.

You wanted to wake up, ask him where he's going but you couldn't fight the sleep that was overtaking you.

The next morning, you forgot about it as you saw Chan making breakfast for the two of you, the day starting as normal as ever, a familiar routine taking place.

Your knees pressed together as you ate, the smell of freshly brewed coffee filling up the space, the birds singing in front of the window as you chatted.

The next twenty minutes consisted of the two of you knocking against each other and the furniture as you tried to get ready for work.

The smiles on your faces never faltered as every second spent together was precious, even the mundane things like brushing your teeth together became romantic in your eyes.

Chan refused to stop kissing you in front of the door until you smacked his chest enough times to make him realize that you'll be late for work if he doesn't drive you right now.

It was a nice and fresh day outside and briefly you remembered the vision you had last night of Chan leaving but you chalked it up to a dream.

The dream however, kept repeating sporadically throughout the week.

You'd be half awake, watching your boyfriend's back as he'd gather his jacket and toolbox, only to leave quietly into the night.

Doubts started to fill your mind.

You knew you could just ask him where he was going, but the fact that he didn't share it beforehand, when the two of you usually shared your deepest and darkest secrets, created a painful feeling in your gut and chest.

It was more than suspicious, him sneaking out at night and the fear of losing him clouded your mind.

So one night as he left, waking you up accidentally in the process, you couldn't fall back asleep.

Tears filled up your eyes as you clutched onto his pillow that smelled just like him, comforting and yours.

What was he doing? You didn't want your mind to go to horrible places, like Chan meeting up with someone else because if that turned out to be true, your heart would shatter into pieces.

Pieces you'd never be able to pick up, never be able to love again.

So, you waited for him to come back home, making yourself some coffee so you don't fall asleep.

Chan came back home around 6am, just 30 minutes before you usually wake up.

"Oh, y/n. You're awake." he swallowed, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

"Yes, I've been awake for hours." you looked at him as he stood still by the door, nervously looking left and right.

"I- I just..."

"Where were you? Or better yet, where do you sneak off to every other night?" you tapped your fingers against the cup, your heart beating fast as you tried to sound and look calm, but your eyes were already filling up with tears.

"Y-you know?" Chan gulped, standing like a statue.

You scoffed, a tear sliding down your cheek.

You wiped it away angrily as you stood up and his eyes widened.

"I thought we didn't have any secrets between us. But you're obviously going behind my back. Just please, explain."

"Please don't be mad at me!" Chan quickly made his way to you but you took a step back from him, your backside colliding into the sink.

Hurt flashed across his eyes before realization hit him.

How this must look to you.

"Oh, you think..." he shook his head. "It's nothing like that. Actually, you weren't supposed to find out like this. I just wanted to make some extra money so I started repairing stuff as a 24/7 service. You know, for stores that work around the clock, anything that is opened during the night shift like casinos and clubs. If something happens in people's houses during the night. I figured since I have trouble sleeping, I'd do something productive."

You stared at him for a moment before letting out a laugh of disbelief, tears still staining your cheeks.

"You bastard!" you smacked his chest, but there was a smile on your face which let Chan know you weren't that mad at him.

"Why didn't you just tell me that? Do you know how much you scared me?" you smacked his chest once again for good measure before he grabbed your hands gently, bringing them up to your lips and kissing your knuckles.

"I'm sorry, I will never keep something from you again. It's just that it was supposed to be a surprise."

"What surprise?" your brows furrowed as Chan sighed, turning around to rummage through his jacket that he'd left on the chair immediately.

You peered at his hands, your eyes widening and a gasp escaping your lips as he produced a little velvet box out of his pocket.

"Is that-" you stuttered, fresh tears pricking your eyes.

"Mhm." he nodded. "But I wanted us to have this romantic dinner and-"

"This is romantic enough." you stopped him, your voice eager.

Chan chuckled and then smirked.

"Are you sure you want me to propose all greasy in the middle of the kitchen at 6am?"

"I'm sure." you giggled, your body heating up with excitement.

"I was gonna prepare a speech." he muttered before getting down on one knee.

"Y/n, even though I don't have much, what I do have I want to share with you. And that is all my love and my complete and utter devotion that I want to share with you for the rest of my life. So will you marry me?" Chan looked up at you hopefully as he opened up the little box, revealing a beautiful ring inside it.

"Yes!" you cried, quickly wrapping your arms around him as you stumbled forwards into his embrace, making him giggle happily.

You held each other tightly for some time, just reveling in the moment of your hearts beating against one another in unison.

As you pulled away, Chan slid the ring on your finger as your heart skipped a beat.

"Never scare me like that again." you said, looking up at him.

"I'm sorry, my love. I promise I won't."

Your lips crashed together in a sweet and passionate kiss, your whole body tingling with so many feelings and one thought in your head.

Whatever life throws at you, as long as you come home to each other at the end of the day, everything will be just fine.

taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @porangporangmeong @laylasbunbunny @laughatdanger @jeonginslefthand @sapphirewaves @simpforleeknaur @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @painterhyunjin @starlost-mochi-x @saintcosette @ooshyana @frehyun @scarlet789 @skzdust @schniti-is-in-the-house

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ofstarsandvibranium · 1 month ago

Text

Undeserving

Fandom: The Pitt

Pairing: Dr. Jack Abbot x F!Reader

Summary: In a tragic car accident, Jack loses his wife, who was your best friend, and you lose your husband, the father of your child. Now both of you navigate life together and co-parenting your daughter, Evelyn, while also trying to figure out your feelings for each other.

Warning: death of side characters

The Pitt Masterlist

Yours and Jack's lives were intertwined for years. Your best friend was his wife. You were the Maid of Honor at their wedding. Then the accident and both of you lost the loves of your lives. You and Jack were close but after losing the most important people in your lives, you leaned on each other through grief and therapy. You vowed to each other that you couldn't lose each other now, you were stuck with one another.

Even moreso when you realized you were pregnant shortly after the accident. Jack was there for every appointment, when your morning sickness was really bad, and when you gave birth. Giving birth to Evelyn was a bittersweet thing. She was the most precious thing and she would never be able to meet her father.

"I'll take care the both of you. I promise." Jack said as he stood over you and Evie in the hospital bed.

It was just you and Evie living together for a short time until Jack proposed you move in with him. You fought him on it, tried to convince him that taking care of Evie will be a lot, but Jack has always been stubborn. He wanted to help you, not because you were his wife's best friend but also because he cared about you. It just made sense. So you relented fighting him.

The first year of Evie's life was...a lot. You had a lot of breakdowns because you were a single mother, you missed your husband, and you felt like you were a burden to Jack.

But Jack, despite his own issues, he'd been the stronger of the two of you. Despite his late hours at work, he still offered to watch Evie while you slept or ran errands.

He was your angel.

It wasn't until Evie got older that you started to question your feelings for Jack. Whenever the three of you went out, people thought you were a couple and Jack was Evie's father.

Hell, even Robby, Jack's fellow doctor at PMTC would joke about you being a cute little family.

But you did your best to ignore those comments. Because you couldn't have feelings for Jack. He was your best friend's husband, he was your friend. It just...can't happen.

_____________________________

"Uncle Jack Jack!" Evelyn calls out as you enter the Emergency Department.

Jack pops his head out from behind a curtain and his brows furrow. He excuses himself from his patient and fully steps out, "Everything okay?"

"Mommy got hurt!"

Jack looks looks you over and see's no visible visible injuries until you lift your wrapped up hand, "Evie dropped a glass. I was picking up some pieces and cut myself. It's...kinda deep."

He takes Evelyn into his arms, "Evie, honey, my friend Bridget," he points to one of the night shift nurses, "She's gonna watch you while I fix mommy's boo boo. Okay?"

"Okay," she says shyly as Jack hands her off.

"I'll be back, baby. Be good okay?" Evie nods as Bridget brings her to the break room to color.

Jack guides you to an empty room. You sit on the bed and hold up your hand to him. You watch him work in silence, but it's not awkward. You two are used to the occasional silence between you two. You take the time to enjoy the silence while he works on cleaning and stitching up your hand.

Eventually, he finishes and tosses his gloves in the trash, "Please be more careful next time."

You nod, "I know. I just...today has been chaotic."

He chuckles, "Tell me about it," he murmurs as he fills out your discharge papers.

"I-Thank you, Jack."

He nods, "Of course, sweetheart."

Your heart flutters at the nickname. He'd been calling you that a lot more recently, but you try not to think too much about it. You don't want to get your hopes up. You don't want to think that Jack has started seeing you differently like you with him.

He escorts you out of the room, his hand on your lower back. You hope he can't feel how hot your body has gotten under his touch.

You open the door and peek in. Evelyn and Bridget are coloring on some pages Dana had printed out, "Ready to go, baby?"

"Yeah," she scurries off the chair and to you. You lift her into your arms with a grunt and she holds out the paper she was working on, "Look Uncle Jack Jack!"

He glances at the unicorn coloring page with rainbow scribbles all over it. He smiles at your daughter, "It's beautiful, honey. You gonna put that on the fridge when you get home?"

"Uh huh!"

The three of you step out and bump into Samira, "Well if it isn't my favorite three year old!"

"Auntie Sami, mommy got hurt!"

Samira looks at you and you shake your head, "Cut my hand on glass. Very minor, Jack stitched me up just fine." You hold up your hand.

"That's good. Hope I never see you here under more serious circumstances."

You snort, "Join the club, babe," you bump hips with her, "I'll see you guys. See you at home, Jack."

"Bye Uncle Jack!"

"See you in the morning, baby," Jack waves at your daughter and watches as you exit the ED.

Once you're out, Samira looks at the attending night shift doctor, "Have you told her yet?"

Jack scoffs, "Fuck off, Mohan," and proceeds to walk away.

________________________

Dana sits with you on the picnic blanket, watching Jack and Evie play on the playground. You're laying on your back, sunglasses on, and enjoying the sun.

"You know he's basically Evie's dad, right?"

"Who?" you ask craning your neck to look at the older woman.

Dana chuckles, "Jack, obviously."

"I-I'm yeah. I guess he basically is." You sit up, but lean back, using your arms to prop you up. It always surprises you how much energy Jack still has for your daughter. It brings a smile to your face when Jack catches Evelyn and she squeals in delight.

"Oh brother, you're so fucked," Dana says with a cackle.

You groan falling onto your back again, "I know!"

"Why don't you tell him?"

"Absolutely not. That man has done so much for Evie and I. We've been such a burden and I don't want my baggage to bring him further down than he already is. He's got enough on his plate."

"Honey, you and he share the baggage. You're living out of the same fucking suitcase!" You shake your head and run your hands down your face. Dana tsks, "He cares about you, loves you and Evie. Does he love you romantically? Hell if I know! But what I do know is that man would go through Hell for you and your daughter. If he doesn't feel the same, sure, it sucks. But it's not like he's gonna kick you out if you tell him how you feel!"

You shake your head, "I'm not risking it, Dana. I can't. Besides...I don't deserve someone as caring as Jack. Besides, we're only bound together because of our shared trauma, which, according to my therapist, isn't necessarily good. So I gotta work through that."

"So what, you gonna quit him cold turkey or somethin'?"

You sit up again, watching Jack and Evelyn, "...I've been looking at apartments. Evie is still a hand full, but-but I think I can take care of her on my own now. I got that promotion I told you about, so I'm making more. I can move out of Jack's, become more independent." You look down and start picking at the grass, "I don't want to keep relying on Jack. He's done a lot for me and I feel like I've reciprocated very little to his life. He'll have more peace and quiet once Evie and I move out."

"Mommy!" Evelyn calls out for you, running ahead of Jack.

You smile at her, "You having fun, baby?" She crashes into you and you both fall back, giggling.

"Uncle Jack Jack gonna get me ice cream!"

Jack finally catches up, slightly planting, "Only if you're okay with it, sweetheart," he stands above you, hands on his hips.

You stand, "I'll get it for her. You go rest. I'm tagging you out."

Jack immediately pulls out his wallet, "Here-"

"Nope! Walking away! Don't see you!" You take Evie's hand and guide her to the ice cream truck in the parking lot.

Jack takes up your previous spot, "What were you two gossiping about?"

"You."

"Oh great," he says with an eyeroll, digging into your tote bag where you packed some snacks for the three of you. He opens a bag of trail mix and tosses some nuts and raisins in his mouth, "Should I be worried?"

The older woman shrugs, "That's for you to decide whenever she decides to talk to you."

Jack's face turns serious, "Dana-"

"It's not life threatening or anything. It's just....a potential lifestyle change."

Jack frowns even more and then turns to you and Evie at the ice cream truck. You're accepting a popsicle from the ice cream man and handing it to Evie. You hand the man cash and shake your head. Jack assumes you're telling the man to keep the change. You then turn and walk back towards Jack and Dana, Evelyn walking a little bit ahead of you.

"I got a rainbow pop!" the three year old exclaims in excitement. She plops herself onto Jack's lap.

You chuckle, "Careful, baby. Don't spill any on Uncle Jack Jack." You then catch Jack's gaze, "Everything okay?"

He softly smiles, "Yeah. We're good," he looks at Dana who nods.

______________________

When Jack comes home from work, you and Evie are already awake. The three year old tends to wake up much earlier than you'd like, but what can you do?

Evie is sitting in her high chair eating breakfast at the counter, "Uncle Jack Jack!"

Jack gives a tired smile to the little girl, "Mornin', baby," he kisses her head.

You're currently not the kitchen, but hearing the toilet flush in the distance lets him know you're in the bathroom.

On the kitchen counter is your laptop propped open. Jack doesn't mean to look at it, but something catches his eye. You're looking on an apartments website. His heart suddenly drops to his stomach.

He recalls the conversation he had with Dana weeks ago:

"Should I be worried?"

The older woman shrugs, "That's for you to decide whenever she decides to talk to you."

Jack's face turns serious, "Dana-"

"It's not life threatening or anything. It's just....a potential lifestyle change."

You plan on moving out.

Jack hears you approaching, "Your plate is in the microwa-" you stop when you see him staring at your laptop.

He turns the laptop to you and points at the screen, "You plan on moving out?"

You gulp, "I've been thinking about it."

He clenches his jaw, "Why? Why didn't you bring this up to me?"

You let out a deep breath and slowly approach him, "It's not a for sure thing yet, Jack." You close your laptop and slide it away from him. Avoiding his gaze, you say,"Just think I should be more independent and stop relying on you."

"I said I'd take care of you." In your peripherals, you see him cross his arms over his chest.

You continue to avoid looking at him, "I know and I really appreciate what you've done for me and Evie over the years, but-but I got a promotion. I'm making really good money now and Evie's getting older. I think it'd be best for us to be on our own. It's a good thing."

He scoffs, and leans one arm on the counter, "How'd it be a good thing? Evie should grow up in a house with two loving parents-"

"You're not her dad, Jack!" you burst out, frustrated that he just won't let you go. He grows still and you know you've hurt him, "I'm sorry, but you're not. And us moving out would be good for you! You get to have more freedom and peace-"

"Stop-"

"You can start dating and bring women over without having to worry-"

"Stop!"

"You're not going to be around forever-"

"Yes, I will because I love you!"

You're rendered speechless but his outburst confession. He runs his hands through his hair and sighs, "I love you. I love you and I love Evie like she's my own." He takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself, "Never, and I mean never, have I ever once regretted having you live with me. Never have I thought you and Evie were a burden. I can't imagine my life without you both. I love our little family and life that we have."

Your eyes are tearing up as you speak, "If you're saying this just so-"

"Sweetheart, I'm saying it because I mean it. It's not a trick. I'm not trying to manipulate you. I'm trying to fight to keep what we have."

You begin to pace, "I don't-I don't-"

"Mommy," Evie calls for you and she looks upset, "Mommy sad?"

You sniffle and give your daughter a little smile, "I'll be alright, baby."

Jack takes a step closer to you, "Y/N-"

You shake your head, "Go take a shower and go to sleep. You're exhausted, Jack. We'll continue this later," you mumble, helping Evie out of the high chair and bringing her to the sink to clean up.

You don't see it, but Jack's body sags a bit after your dismissal. He wants to continue the conversation, but you're right. He is tired and maybe some rest will allow him to gather his thoughts properly.

PART 2

#dr jack abbot x reader #dr jack abbot imagine #dr jack abbot fic #dr abbot x reader #jack abbot x reader #dr abbot imagine #dr abbot fic #jack abbot imagine #jack abbot fic

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heesimp · 8 months ago

Note

omg yes please write heehoon using that toy (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ

part two of heehoon jerking off together…wow okay i learned that i reallyyy like writing this kind of stuff

warnings: heehoon jerk off together again, mxm (kinda), use of a sex toy, sunghoon catches heeseung watching porn and joins, double penetration of the toy, heehoon fantasized about reader again, mentions of sunghoon masturbating, subtly voyeurism, subtle praise.

It’s not a surprise that Heeseung and Sunghoon find themselves in this predicament again.

You just had to wear a dress that made your breasts spill out of the cups and while they don’t understand why you told them you needed your bra size remeasured because it was too small to the point where your tits didn’t fit in them anymore, the image of you without your clothes on was enough to make the drive silent on their way home.

But that was last night. It’s Saturday evening and the unusual silence of the apartment makes Sunghoon uneasy. He’s been cooped up in his room for the entire day, too worked up over a wet dream and thinking about you naked in just that little bra you described in such detail. He’s touched himself twice earlier today and willed himself not to make it a third if he isn’t getting any action. The tissues from cleaning up his cum sit in his trash bin as if to mock him so he goes for a drive to get his mind out of the gutter.

When he comes home, though, Heeseung’s door is cracked slightly ajar and Sunghoon can hear the clear sound of porn coming from inside of his room. The younger man laughs to himself and peeks inside to see Heeseung’s eyes closed with his fist wrapped around his cock. Sunghoon retreats into his room to grab his favorite toy—a doll complete with a torso, ass and pussy—before returning to Heeseung’s room.

“Can’t help it, can you?”

Sunghoon’s voice startles Heeseung and his hand momentarily freezes around himself. He’s half naked, bottom completely bare while his chest is covered by a black t-shirt. Sunghoon opens the door wider and folds his arms while resting his shoulder on Heeseung’s doorframe and chuckles to himself.

“What the fuck are you doing?!”

“I know you’re thinking about Y/N,” Sunghoon tells him. He sees the way Heeseung’s cock twitches at the mere mention of your name. The video Heeseung plays on his laptop echoes and women moaning while being obliterated on screen makes Sunghoon half-hard. “You can’t stop jerking yourself off to her too, huh?”

Heeseung relents and averts his gaze back to the video and resumes pumping himself. Sunghoon watches the way his friend’s hand shifts up and down the harder the girls in the video get fucked and walks into his room to peek at the screen.

“Creampie compilation?” Sunghoon asks to himself more than to Heeseung, palming his cock over his pants with his free hand. “That shit’s hot.”

“I want to cum in her so bad,” Heeseung whines, squeezing himself as Sunghoon sits on the bed next to him. Heeseung watches him push the toy on his clothed cock and as he grinds against the silicone. “I need her pussy.”

“I want to fuck her so hard she feels me for days.” Sunghoon moans when he sees cum dripping from the woman in front of him. He squeezes the toy’s ass and bucks his hips. Heeseung moans too.

“Are you gonna use that thing?”

Sunghoon quirks his eyebrow. “Maybe. Why? Do you want to use it?”

“Wanna watch you use it first.”

“Didn’t know you were into that.”

Heeseung rolls his eyes. “Man, let me pretend it’s Y/N. I want to watch you fuck her.” Sunghoon unbuckles his belt and laughs, pulling himself out of his pants and boxers until they’re pooled around his ankles. His cock is hard and he spits on his hand before touching himself to the video before him.

“Got any lube?” Heeseung hands him a bottle without taking his eyes off of the screen and grunts as he watches yet another creampie clip. Meanwhile, Sunghoon squirts some of the lube onto his cock and onto the folds of his toy, using one hand to pump himself and the other to rub it all over the silicone. Heeseung looks at Sunghoon’s hand when he hears the wet squelching.

“I’d stick my fingers in her like this.” Sunghoon pushes his index and middle fingers inside, coating them with the lube while pretending it’s your arousal that touches him while Heeseung keeps stroking his dick. “I wanna see her pussy open up for me.”

“Fuck. That’s so good.”

“I’d slap her little cunt too.” Sunghoon pulls himself back and smacks the tips of his fingers against it until the sound becomes louder than the moans from the screen. “Make her all bruised and sensitive.”

“Shit, yeah.” Heeseung bites his lip. “Put your cock inside. I wanna see her ride you.”

“Like this?” Sunghoon teased, positioning the toy until the folds envelop only his tip. Both hands secure around the waist as he keeps it hovering above him.

Heeseung rolls his eyes. “You know what I mean.” Sunghoon obliges, sinking the toy right into his hardened dick. He moan and looks up at Heeseung’s ceiling as his eyes squeeze shut.

“She feels so good,” Sunghoon moans breathlessly. “Tightest pussy I’ve ever had.”

Heeseung watches his friend lift the toy up and down his cock and notes the way Sunghoon’s balls bounce too. He squeezes his cock harder. “You think she’d let you cream her? For real?”

“She better.” His balls slap against the toy. “I wanna see that pussy all white and sticky. I’d fuck it back into her if she’d let me.”

“Fuck, you’re really good at this.”

Sunghoon bounces his legs until his thrusts are meeting the movement of his hands. “You like watching me get off?”

“Only if we’re talking about Y/N.” Heeseung rolls his eyes while Sunghoon laughs. His friend gets too inside of his own head.

“I want to watch you fuck her too, you know. I’d kill to feel her mouth around me while you’re inside her.” Sunghoon laughs when Heeseung emits a deep, long groan. “I know you’re into that. Two big dicks abusing her holes like we do to this toy.”

Memories of the first time they jerked off together come back to Heeseung. He thinks of himself and Sunghoon in the living room when he brought out this toy for the first time and remembers the feeling of his cock rubbing against his friend’s as the toy stretched around them. It took only a little bit of convincing. Heeseung can’t deny that he really loved the feeling of Sunghoon’s hardness against his own arousal. It felt otherworldly, almost. That makes his hand move up and down even faster.

“Put her on the bed and fuck her,” Heeseung says in a haste. He gestures to Sunghoon with his head and the sheer desperation in Heeseung’s voice makes Sunghoon click his tongue, but he doesn’t disobey.

He watches Sunghoon pull the toy off of him and sees his cock bounces as his balls glisten from the precum too. Sunghoon turns around, still with his pants and boxers around his ankles, and pushes the toy onto the mattress with its pussy presented to him. Heeseung grunts as his friend smears his tip over the wet folds and pretends you’re looking at him with wide eyes as you grope yourself. That makes Heeseung grip his balls and squeeze them as if your hand could reach out to touch him too.

Sunghoon sinks in slowly and his deep moan is louder than the video on Heeseung’s computer. He doesn’t hold back either, putting both hands on the mattress below while his hips slang to push his dick in and out of the toy. Heeseung’s mouth hangs ajar as he watches his friend fuck the toy pussy and hears the hollow sound of the silicone as it gets pounced into, wishing it was your pussy that talks back.

“I think you like watching me fuck people,” Sunghoon says with an edge to his voice. He looks and Heeseung and moans when he realizes his friend’s hand hasn’t decreased in speed. “Imagine if we both fucked her pussy.”

“I’m so close.” Heeseung squeezes his balls as he twists his wrist up and down his dick.

“Fuuuck. Her little pussy’s gonna make me cum too.”

“I want to hear her beg for our cum.” Heeseung grunts and widens his legs further.

Sunghoon feels himself drawing closer too. “Fuck, fuck. Find a video.”

“A video?”

“Someone begging for cum!” Sunghoon exclaims, eyebrows furrowing as sweat stains his forehead. Heeseung types with one hand and does his best to open his bookmarks without clicking on anything he doesn’t want to see. He’s got enough porn stashed for a rainy day and knows the exact video he needs to get off you.

“You’ll love this.” Heeseung turns the laptop towards Sunghoon, who pulls his cock out of the toy and walks closer to his friend. “It flows out of her.”

“Come here.”

Sunghoon’s command makes Heeseung push his cock towards his friend, who brings his own against him. Heeseung winces at the still-unfamiliar feeling of somebody’s dick pressing against his own but welcomes the warmth when he sees Sunghoon pushing the toy’s pussy over both of their tips. He pretends it’s you they’re fucking.

“Fuck me,” Heeseung moans when Sunghoon starts to thrust against him. “Her pussy’s sensational.”

Sunghoon grunts, eyes focusing on the video beside them. “Good girls like cum stuffed inside of them.”

“Give me your fucking cum!” the girl in the video begs. “I want a creampie. Can’t you see how much I want it?”

“I’ll give it to you,” says Sunghoon. Heeseung, lost in his ability to think and function properly, thrusts against Sunghoon too. “Oh shit, Hee. Keep going. Fuck her pussy too.”

“Need your cum in me now! Please, please, please give it to me.”

“Fuck. I’m cumming.” Heeseung feels his balls start to tighten and clenches his jaw as Sunghoon pushes against his cock with more force.

“Cum! Cum in me!”

“I’m cumming too.” One final thrust from Sunghoon makes Heeseung’s cock burst and the flow of his cum makes Sunghoon cream the toy too, both of them moaning your name as they reach their absolute peak.

They don’t stop thrusting, riding out their collective high as their mixed cum slathers their warm cocks and bubbles out of the toy. Sunghoon feels their combined loads seep down to his balls the more he slaps it against the toy.

The video ends and Heeseung folds the laptop shut as he pulses against Sunghoon, who holds the toy still above them as he finishes cumming. He only pulls it away after making sure both of them have released every last drop and watches as it flows out and onto Heeseung’s softening dick.

“Gets better every time,” Sunghoon whispers, bringing his fingers to rub the toy’s folds and stuff their cum back inside. “You good?”

“I want to try double penetration with Y/N even more now…Is it weird that I liked that? A lot?”

“Nah.” Sunghoon tosses Heeseung a tissue box. “Whatever helps you get off.”

***

#enhypen smut #heeseung smut #sunghoon smut #enha smut #enhypen x reader #sunghoon x reader #heeseung x reader #enha hard thoughts #enhypen hard thoughts #enha hard hours #enhypen hard hours #heeseung #sunghoon #hard thought #heehoon

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heartyluv · 2 months ago

Note

I love your writings of Zayne and Sylus! Can you do one of Zayne and Sylus (separately) where reader tells them that she thinks they should break up because she feels like she isn’t good enough for him so she needs to focus on herself, plus he’s been so busy, and they haven’t had time to be with each other for a while. Which leads up to this moment. Zayne and Sylus ofc get angry because they love reader so much and deny her request. No matter what they will always chose her and who is she to tell him how to feel. Kind of angsty, passionate, and deep yearning if you get what I’m saying. Thank you.🙇🏻‍♀️

Note: You guys are getting all the angst today LOLL. I had some extra time to actually get this done, especially since it didn’t need to be too long. I hope you enjoy, luvly! Thank you so much for being here.

Warning: You talk badly about yourself in this, but I’m here to tell you that all of you luvlys deserve nothing but the absolute best and nothing less. I luv you. 😚

Zayne

Zayne was worried when he got a text from you while he was at work during another one of his late night shifts. He hasn’t been able to be around you for long for the last couple of weeks because of being on call so often lately, so when you messaged him on your own accord for the first time in a while at almost one in the morning, all his focus was out the window. It was a good thing he was due to go home soon.

“Hey, Z. Sorry if you’re busy. Nothing’s wrong, but if you had time tomorrow, could I come by and we talk for a little bit? Love you.”

He wasn’t waiting until tomorrow. Especially when he tried to text and call you and you didn’t answer any attempt. And not when you texted him like that. No emojis, no babe, no lovebug, not even an I in saying that you love him. So when he finally was able to get out of the hospital, the first thing he did was drive to your home.

He doesn’t know about the mental turmoil you’ve been dealing with. He doesn’t know that it’s been going on long before he started getting really busy.

You’ve been feeling insecure about, well, everything. About you not feeling like you’re good enough for someone as talented, intelligent, and handsome as your boyfriend, feeling like he deserves someone who can match him in ways you believe you’re incapable of doing. The distance hasn’t helped, and all you could think of was all the pretty doctors and nurses that he’s around everyday, all the women he encounters on the daily who are undoubtedly just as enamored by him as you were when you first laid your eyes on him.

You tried to convince yourself that this was just you having a moment of weakness, that you simply missed him so much that your brain couldn’t help but try and pin something on you since you haven’t seen him in what feels like forever. It got so bad that you genuinely wondered if he was working overtime, longer than usual, just to get away from you.

Because you knew Zayne was never that cruel, you came to the conclusion that it was time to talk, to tell him that perhaps breaking up is good for the both of you so he doesn’t have to deal with you.

You were rehearsing all of what you hoped you could properly communicate in your bed, when you got a text.

“I’m outside. Please open the door.”

Your whole body froze. He wasn’t supposed to be here now. But you couldn’t just leave him out there, so you dragged yourself out of bed to get ready to tell him something you’d never be prepared enough to say.

His eyes were full of curiosity, confusion, and concern when you stood face to face. He was so worried that he didn’t even bother removing his coat or making himself comfortable. Instead, he just turned your light on so that he could see you properly.

“I got your text, yet you didn’t respond to me when I tried to message and call you back. You’ve worried me. Tell me, what’s wrong?”

You swallow, feeling the tears in your eyes burn as you tried to get yourself right to say what you needed to. But every time you looked into his worrying eyes, your heart cracked. For yourself and for the fact that even with the love in them, you couldn’t help but feel like you were undeserving of it.

“I think we need to break up, Zayne,” you rush out, shutting your eyes and breathing out as if you were being held underwater. No amount of tugging on your pajama sleeve was going to ease your nerves, so you resorted to your fingers, picking at the skin until it hurt.

Zayne hated that. He placed a large palm on both of your hands, looking down at them before he looked up at you.

“Is it something I’ve done wrong? Because of my recent increase in absence?” he studies you, trying to look for any of your ticks to try and see if you’ll lie.

“I just—” the tears fall loosely, rushing down your cheeks. Instead of piecing your thoughts together, they just start spilling out uncontrollably. “I just believe you deserve so much more than me, than what I offer you. I could never be what you need, what you deserve. You’re one of the youngest and most successful surgeons in the world, Zayne. You are so perfect that it makes me wonder how I was so lucky to be given someone like you. And because of that it’s best for me to just let you go so that you—“

“Stop,” he interrupts you. “You don’t get to tell me what I deserve when everything and all I’ve ever wanted, needed, is standing right in front of me, trying to leave.”

Your heart beats rapidly from the intense emotions and heavy stress you’ve weighed upon yourself.

“I could lose my job, lose everything I’ve ever earned in this life, and the only thing that would keep me going is you, do you understand that?” He reaches his hand up to cup your face. “But because you’ve come to me with this, it’s obvious that I’ve failed in making sure you know and understand how special you are to me. And it is my responsibility to instill that security in you and us, again.”

He leans forward, pressing his lips to yours. He shut all of that down before you had the chance to dig an unnecessary hole deeper, even if that uncertainly is still in the back of your mind.

“I will listen to your concerns and I will mend your heart, but I will not let you discredit or talk down on the only person I’ll only and will ever, love. Is that fair?”

You nod, unable to speak due to embarrassment, relief, and even because of that tinge of fear in your chest. “I’m sorry,” you only mumble.

“There’s no need to apologize to me. It’s my fault for letting these thoughts have the chance to stew in your pretty mind when I know that reassurance is one of the things that keeps us strong. We’re okay, my love. We always will be.”

Sylus

When you started ignoring Sylus’ text messages today, he tried to give you the benefit of the doubt. You had times where you forgot to even look at your phone, so he couldn’t fault you. His kitten, funnily enough, was still human. He was bothered that you had only spoken with him once this morning and it was almost five in the evening now.

Even then, he figured that since he’ll see you later, you can tell him what was so much more important than him while he teased you about it. But when you ignored his phone calls, he knew there was a problem.

You never missed a call from him because his ringtone was the song he had playing when he asked to be your boyfriend. It was a beautiful night on a luxurious rooftop restaurant that he rented for the night as a special way to romance you. It was unique and the song always had you smiling, floating to your phone when you went to pick up as that same dreamy memory replayed in your mind. So now that you’re not answering, his anger and concern began to mend together.

“She’s home?” Luke says with confusion when he gives Sylus your location. He had him find you after his first and only attempt to call you went to voicemail.

“Boss, did you do something?” Kieran asks, his tone laced with shock. You never got like this and the only thing he could think was that after almost three years together, you must’ve had your first real big fight that they were unaware of.

Prepared to debunk that theory, he suddenly got the text message that had him in front of your house faster than anything or anyone could comprehend.

“I’m breaking up with you, Sylus. I’m so sorry.”

Sylus angry was scary—because he didn’t look angry. He had the face that you could compare to a sleeping baby; calm, peaceful unbothered. But under the surface, he was one wrong sentence away from losing his shit.

Your door was thrown open, broken off the hinges when you ran into your living room. His head quirked to the side when he saw you. Puffy and eyes, runny nose, oversized clothing in a relatively warm house. He didn’t know what was wrong, but running from him? He wasn’t allowing it.

“It seems you’ve gotten my attention as you anticipated, sweetie.” He steps toward you, feeling his heart twist with concern as you look at everything but his eyes. “You ignore me, and I allow it all day. Yet to repay me for my generosity, my sweet kitten decides to push her luck and sends me nonsense.”

His playful attempt to control himself drops when he thinks of how prepared you were to just send him that message as if he would ever just accept such a thing. “There is nothing above me that I an incapable of fixing when it comes to keeping you happy. Talk to me. Tell me what needs to be done so that we can resolve it together like we’re supposed to.”

You taught Sylus what real communication was. In this moment, he’s thankful for it because he’s determined to use it to get rid of all your worries and concerns. He tilts your chin up when you refuse to look at him and that sends the waterworks rushing again.

Sylus has been so busy that this was the first night you would’ve seen him face to face in over a month. A part of the reason as to why you were driven to send him that message is because you felt like he was only ready to see you since you nagged him so much.

Even if you didn’t seem to understand that, it couldn’t be further away from the truth for the man looking down at you with determination. Being away from you was hard, but your safety meant more to him than anything. Being apart from you was necessary to ensure nothing ever touched a hair on your head while he handled things you didn’t need to concern yourself with.

Between him being gone and the type of charismatic man he is, you firmly believed that Sylus would inevitably find someone better. You became so dependent on him in a way that made you feel desperate. You felt that maybe you were way in over your head, that this separation was needed so that you could accurately reflect.

You believe that he should have someone secure in themselves, someone who could keep up with him. Someone that was better than you, someone more than you’d ever be.

“I’ve been thinking… And I believe that it’s good for the both us to separate. I didn’t intend to drop this on you, not like this. I just feel like I’m not worthy of you—that you’re a man that women would give nothing but the best to. All I want is for you to get the things that make you happy, not have you settling for something like me.”

You’re surprised that he actually let you finish.

He breathes out, shaking his head slightly. “For someone so smart, your mind must’ve worked tirelessly to convince you to believe something so ridiculous.”

His thumb runs along your bottom lip, staring at them before he looks into your eyes. “It insults me that you don’t think that I know what I want, that I know what I deserve. It insults me that you would belittle the only real thing I’ve ever had in my life, so boldly. It angers me, that I’ve not done my part to properly ensure that you know that you are the only person alive that I would destroy this planet and myself for.”

Your breath hitches when he pulls you closer. “If you ever believed for a second, that I’d let you simmer in this darkness, that I’d let you leave me, I need to do a better job in showing you the kind of man whose children you’ll carry.” He kisses your nose. “Whose ring you’ll bear.” Another kiss to your lips. “Whose heart you will always own.” A final one to your forehead.

“Sylus…” you whimper, feeling the emotions bubble inside you again, threatening to spillover. You want to believe that what you sent was a spark of simple insecurity. But you know it’s been inside you long enough for it to erupt the way it did.

It’s the fact that he would never even allow you to deal with any of this on your own that makes your tears spill.

“You don’t need to say anything, pretty.” He rubs the tears away, one by one as they come. “The only thing you need to tell me are ways we can make sure that this belief never plagues your mind again and how I can keep you confident in my love for you.”

He simply takes your hand, walking out of your apartment and makes a phone call to have your door repaired tonight because you’ll be staying with him until further notice.

“You’re stuck with me for life, kitten. Not even death could keep me from you. And I’m going to make sure that you always understand that.”

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace sylus #love and deepspace zayne #zayne x you #zayne x reader #sylus x you #sylus x reader #lads sylus #lads zayne #love and deepspace angst

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alchemistc · 1 month ago

Text

Based on my own post from earlier this evening because I can't stop thinking about it.

vanilla

He doesn't mean to see it. He swears. It's just - Tommy's laptop is right there and Buck's is all the way in the office and if he doesn't look up the lifespan of a Cecropia moth right now he's going to forget about it for a month only to remember in the middle of something vitally more important than watching Planet Earth reruns.

So he twists the thing around from its spot on the side table, boots it back up, types in Tommy's password (pA$$word3, because no one would ever guess that he'd be both so lazy and so creative in his laziness), and watches Firefox boot itself up. It's an older laptop, and Tommy doesn't take great care of it - case and point, he didn't even close out of his tabs, they're all still there, and - well. Shit.

That's the most ridiculous dildo he's ever seen.

Biggest, too.

Jesus.

Buck immediately forgets 100% of what he was doing.

And - and looking up Tommy's history is absolutely a line crossed - there's no reason for him to fucking spiral just because there's a bright purple dragon something on the screen with a base as wide as Buck's thigh. There's no reason why he should -

He clicks the search history and regrets it pretty immediately.

That kills two hours.

He has three more until Tommy's off shift, and now everything is worse. Because.

Okay so.

Like.

They have a pretty healthy sex life, Buck thinks. A year into Tommy and Buck Part Two and they still can't keep their hands off each other. And - so, like, sue him for preferring all the boring stuff he never really got to enjoy long term - the way he knows Tommy goes a little crazy when they're lying on their sides and Buck can just slip right in and press his lips to Tommy's shoulder, tuck his hand under Tommy's where he's got it on his chest, curl their fingers together and just breath into each thrust. Sue him for liking it when they're face to face and Tommy's looking up at him with the pads of his fingers tracing the shell of Buck's ear and he can see the love love love in his eyes, see the way his tongue curls out Buck's name like a prayer. Sue him for his fantasies always drifting to that sunny afternoon in their bed, Buck on his belly and Tommy everywhere around him, over him, inside of him, humming useless nothings into Buck's ear while the sweat from their skin eased the chafe of being pressed together from pelvis to collarbone.

Buck picks up his phone. Watches the familiar name ring out one, two, three - answered on the fourth ring.

"Am I not kinky enough, do you think?" Buck asks, and gets a drawn out moment of silence.

"Nope," Ravi says, and the call drops.

And who else is he gonna call, really? Hen and Chim? (Hard no, they nipped that in the bud back when Buck and Tommy were still in Part One) Maddie? Another line too far, but this one he doesn't feel like crossing today. Eddie? If he'd even pick up?

Buck dials out again.

Ravi picks up on the second ring. "Buck, I love you man, but I get a front row seat to your little love fest at least once a week, four hours a night. I am not equipped or willing to help you with your sex life."

Fair. That's fair. Boundaries are important. Ravi does an excellent job of setting his up and announcing where they are.

"It's just I found something in Tommy's browser that -."

"Absolutely not. I'll block your number for twenty-four hours."

"Right. Cool. Sure thing." Buck breathes.

"Talk to Tommy, if you're freaking out about it." Ravi caves, just a bit. "Every time. I say this every time, and it always works, doesn't it?"

True. On both accounts. When did Ravi become his go to guy?

(When he started picking up the phone whenever Buck called. When he came to Buck with his own shit and didn't apologize for it.)

"Yeah. You're right. I'm gonna talk to him."

"We're still on for Friday, right?"

Buck has to search his memory to figure out what he's referencing. Tommy's taking Ravi to the farmers market over in Venice Beach that Buck refuses to go to on principle because Sherri's Treats aren't even homemade. She gets the baked goods from Costco and decorates them with store brand icing.

"Talk to Tommy," Buck throws back, just to be a brat, and Ravi sighs.

"Touche."

He's still freaking out when the call ends three minutes later, and he doesn't want to have to pull this trigger.

Except. Like. It's still there. Right on Tommy's screen. Watching him.

The phone rings six times.

He's contemplating how ridiculous it is to leave a voicemail when Lucy answers with a groggy "'lo?"

"Am I not kinky enough?" Buck asks, and gets the start of a cackle and then a long, slow pause.

She's gonna hang up on him. She's absolutely going to -

"It's ten-thirty in the morning on a Wednesday, Buckley."

And it sure is.

God, this would never have happened if he hadn't started an update on his phone mid-episode.

"Walk me through it," she continues, all business, all of a sudden, and so Buck tells her, grateful for her hums and uhuh's as she starts her day. Buck talks over the sound of her brushing her teeth, and pouring her coffee, and absolutely doesn't mention that he thinks she should probably have better sleeping patterns while he spirals about Tommy being unsatisfied with the sex they have.

"Gonna break bro code here a little to tell you you have literally nothing to worry about there. Seriously. You're getting gold stars every night, I promise you."

"He's been looking up gimp suits and gags, Lucy!"

She's quiet on the other end, for a moment.

Then she starts laughing.

Again.

Which is a great feeling for Buck. He loves it when Lucy laughs at him.

"Oh, Jesus, I'm sorry. Honey those aren't for you."

Well, now he's kinda mad at the implication that Tommy would -

"Not for Tommy, either," she interrupts, like she knows where that spiral leads. "I forgot what time of year it was. This is new for you."

"What's new for me?"

He can picture the sly grin on her face as she pours something into a bowl - milk maybe. Then cereal.

God, what a psycho.

"Tommy and an army buddy of his have had this escalating prank war going on for like...seven, eight years? I don't know, I wasn't here at the start of it, but I guess it started as the most heterosexual man you've ever met trying to be a good ally to his newly out buddy and sending a set of butt plugs to the only address of Tommy's he had available."

Weird. But not the weirdest thing he's ever heard. "Which was?"

"Oh, Harbor. Yeah. Got it his first week there. So now every year on the anniversary they try to send each other shit at work that should technically be grounds for a sexual harassment claim from their coworkers. Last year Tommy got a fully custom furry suit. Dude probably dropped thirty grand on that thing."

He shouldn't ask. He definitely shouldn't -

"It was a horse. Because of his big fat -."

"I get the picture, thanks."

"So yeah. It's coming up on time for them to push a boundary a little too far and actually have someone complain about it, this time. They won't stop until one of them gets a write up."

It's kinda funny. Kinda sweet, too, in that really weird way military men are with each other. Irrationally, Buck kinda wants to slew foot the guy for being an unintentionally massive flirt.

Straight dudes are the literal worst at allyship, in the weirdest ways possible.

"He's out of state, so don't go getting territorial, Buckley."

Never gonna live that down.

"But seriously though? Back to the original point. Which is you freaking out that Tommy is unsatisfied in your sex life. Number one: talk to him. You guys are the actual worst. Always gotta have a second opinion before you bite the bullet and do the normal thing. Number two: I know too much. And I know you have nothing to worry about. Number three: when he gets home I want you to record his reaction when you turn the laptop screen on him like a spurned wife and send it to me. I'm having a bad day. I could use the entertainment."

"You just woke up."

"And had to talk an old coworker down from a ledge about how satisfying his sex life is with a current coworker. Bareback, no lube, just wake up and go."

"I think this also counts as sexual harassment."

"You started this conversation with 'am I kinky enough' so I'm not super concerned."

By the time he gets off the phone with Lucy he's very firmly on solid ground. And also wondering exactly how much Tommy actually talks about their sex life when he's not around. Tommy keeps things pretty close to the vest. He can't imagine he's going around bragging about that time he started crying when Buck hit his prostate right as he licked into his mouth and slid a hand up his arm to link their fingers together.

Maybe in less detail.

Something about seeing God, maybe. That seems more like his style.

---

Tommy has a routine, when he gets home from work. Keys hung up, jacket on the coat rack, duffle tucked into one of the cubbies of his makeshift mud room. Shoes under the bench, two minutes of head scritches for Goose as she meows her way down the hall to greet the only man she'll ever love.

(Buck's super cool about the fact that Tommy's breakup cat hates him. Totally chill.)

When Goose has had her fill and darted off to go bounce off the walls of the office, Tommy likes to amble in to whatever room Buck is in and drape himself across Buck's back for a moment, mouth pressed to the knob of Buck's spine, hands roaming for a moment before he manages a greeting.

He's making risotto for dinner when he hears the lock click in the front door.

He's ignoring Lucy's text reminding him to get a reaction shot.

He listens to Tommy talk back to Goose like he understands every "mrow" listens for the shuffle of socked feet down the hall, listens to him pad across the kitchen tiles, braces himself for the dead weight of Tommy against his back.

Tommy's got a hand halfway up his shirt when he mumbles into Buck's ear. "So I hear we have something to talk about."

"Ravi snitched."

"Ravi still thinks I'm the sensible one, of the two of us."

Buck snorts. Tips his head back against Tommy's shoulder and basks in the moment while Tommy buries his nose behind Buck's ear.

"Before I say anything else, I know you said I can use your laptop whenever I want but you should know I definitely snooped where I shouldn't and jumped to some wild conclusions. Which Lucy has already cleared up on your behalf, because apparently we're both too chicken shit to have a conversation without using a lifeline."

Tommy stills. "I didn't close out my browser session last time, did I?"

"You did not."

"And Lucy told you about the horse costume Dom sent me last year."

"She sure did. She very specifically called it a furry suit, though."

Tommy blows out an exasperated breath against his neck. "And you were freaking out because...?"

"I thought maybe you were bored with the sex we have."

That gets Tommy going. He pulls free just to get enough leverage to spin Buck to face him, hands on his hips and eyes catching Buck's like if he doesn't see Buck's eyes in the next five seconds he'll do something crazy, and Buck doesn't really know how he got so lucky but he's not gonna look a gift horse in the mouth. Even if it's a furry.

"Evan. Please understand when I say this I'm not exaggerating. Our sex is life altering. I want to have slow, quiet, vanilla sex with you until the day I die."

"Which won't be for like another fifty years."

Tommy hums. "I'm gonna be popping Blue Chew when I'm ninety-five and have two bum hips."

"Oh, so I have to do all the work?"

"Why do you think I dated younger?"

Buck has to kiss him about it. And then he has to pull back and duck his head to remind Tommy of the part he blazed right past. "Full disclosure, when I said I snooped I meant I went into your search history."

Tommy's chuckle shakes them both. "I figured. You go back far enough to find the single porn link in amidst all the shitty plastic used actuators for sale on eBay?"

"I'm not a masochist, Tommy." Figures he'd get so frustrated looking for a part to fix the rattling in the Jeeps dash he'd want to rub one out. Usually takes him more than a single video, though. Probably he'd decided he'd feel too guilty to actually get off until he had the part ordered.

Tommy shifts his weight a bit. Wedges a knee in between Buck's legs. His eyes get that sparkle to them that means he finds Buck to be an adorable menace. "How married to the risotto are you?" he asks, hands shifting from Buck's hips to behind his thighs.

"Not - not terribly." It had been a distraction from thinking about Tommy's army buddy, mostly. The recipe still isn't perfected and even though Tommy's complimented it every time, Buck can tell it's missing something and Tommy is just letting him figure it out on his own.

"Maybe we could order in and I can show you how satisfied I am with your service."

"We - that's definitely an option. On the table."

"How about this very sturdy counter, instead?"

They haven't done it somewhere not-the-bed in months.

Their knees aren't gonna thank them for it.

Buck has to attempt to ignore Tommy mouthing at his neck to remember if there are enough ice packs in the freezer for the both of them, right now.

"Yeah - yep, let's do that instead."

Tommy gets both hands under his ass and lifts.

He doesn't quite swoon over the move, anymore, but it still makes him more than a little giddy.

"Wait, did you decide on the dildo over the gimp suit, because if you're escalating at the same rate as your friend I think -."

"Can we talk about Dom after I get my satisfaction scores in, please?"

"Shutting up now."

"I don't believe that for a second," Tommy says, and then shuts him up with his mouth anyway, just for good measure.

#bucktommy #bucktommy fic #tevan fic #if you hadn't noticed i'm apparently still peeved with the OG crew #but lucy and ravi are fun to play with

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dumbass-hyperfixations · 3 months ago

Text

The text comes at 9:07.

Eddie: Happy birthday, Hen! Hope you have a good one :)

Hen smiles down at her phone as she sets down her bag in the locker room. Someone really ought to teach that man how to use emojis (seriously, is he secretly 50?), but the text warms her heart too much to be bothered by it. At least someone remembered, even from another state. She’ll take the typed out smiley emoticon as a win.

Hen: Thanks Eddie 🥳 how are you doing?

Eddie: Almost done fixing up my house and making small breakthroughs with Chris every day. But I’m sure Buck’s keeping you all updated. How about you? Any big plans today?

Hen: I’m sure it’s going great, we’re all rooting for you ❤️ and yes, Buck’s giving us all the updates, hasn’t shut up about you since you left 😂

Hen: No big plans today, though. Shift, then takeout for dinner.

Eddie: Not even cake? You’re breaking my heart :(

Hen sighs. She’s breaking her own heart over this silly little thing. She feels ridiculous, being so excited and then so disappointed over such a small thing. She scoffs as she kicks off her shoes and shakes off her jacket before answering Eddie.

Hen: I guess I’m just not in the mood this year. Maybe Karen and I will get dinner over the weekend.

Eddie: Oh, Buck and I tried this great Italian place the night before my last shift at the 118! You should ask him for details, their spaghetti bolognese was amazing :D

Well, definitely not doing that. Not while Buck and the rest of the 118 are being excited over a different H.E.N. in their lives right now. Another thing she’s ridiculously jealous of today: firefighting gadgets. And the way Eddie isn’t able to keep Buck out of their conversation even for a second. She bets Buck never forgets his birthday.

Hen: Thanks, I appreciate the tip 🤗

Eddie: Anytime. Hope you have a great day :)

Yeah, Hen thinks. Against all odds, she hopes so, too.

***

Another text comes around at 14:32, while Hen is taking a break on the roof after that call for Archie, the self-proclaimed invisible man.

Eddie: Hey, just got off the phone with Buck. I’m sorry those dummies forgot your birthday :(

Despite it all, Hen chuckles.

Hen: Don’t be acting like you didn’t remember just because of the Facebook alert. I know you well, Diaz 😉

Eddie: Guilty. Still sent the text though!

Eddie: And I know it sucks, but just remember that they still love you. We all do. Probably gonna be making it up to you for a week. I’ll bet you 10 bucks Chim’s gonna send you balloons. Maybe even a serenading mariachi band.

She snorts into her phone.

Hen: Oh god, I hope not. Haven’t I suffered enough?

Eddie: True. You can always guilt-trip Buck into doing yard work for you, though. He’s pretty handy with that. Kind of wish he was here now, helping me around the house.

Yeah, she bets he does. God, those two are so sickeningly codependent. She’s gonna have to hold an intervention one of these days.

Hen: He’s been giving me THE WORST puppy eyes since they realized they forgot. Could probably make him wash the cars too.

Eddie: Yeah, saw ‘em. He called me all sad, asking about your favourite pie. If you don’t talk to him soon, your house is going to look like a bakery display for a week.

Hen: Thanks for the tip. I DO NOT need my kids on a sugar high after all of this 😂

Eddie: At least they remembered, right? And Karen?

Hen: LOL. Mara dressed up real cute. Not for mama though, for picture day 💔 and Karen at least noticed my (very very nice) birthday outfit, but didn’t connect the dots.

Eddie: Ouch

Hen: Yup. I guess she forgot because of the kids’ schedules. Still hurts, though. There’s usually not a thing missing from her trusty planner.

Eddie: I guess she figured she’ll remember. You guys have celebrated how many thousand birthdays together now? She probably just got too confident in her ability to remember everything she loves about you.

She tries to scoff, but it comes out a little wet. Of course, he’s right. And Karen’s gonna feel so bad when she realizes.

Hen: Damn you for being right.

Hen: I’m gonna be angry with you about that, because you and Athena are the only two people I can’t be mad about missing my birthday.

Eddie: Hahaha sure, if it makes you feel better! Gotta go now, getting ready for work.

Hen: I still can’t believe I’m gonna walk back down to the loft and not see you on shift with us 😔 your talents are being wasted in that Uber

Eddie: Don’t I know it :( take care, Hen. And make Buck your gardener! I’ll be expecting pics.

Hen: 🤔🤔 starting to think gardener Buck is more of a gift for you than it is for me…

What can she say, even in her desperate sorrows, she loves making fun of the whole BuckandEddie thing, no matter how platonic it might be.

The answer is immediate.

Eddie: I’ve gotten tired of all the cooking/baking photos Maddie keeps sending me. He needs new hobbies.

Hen: How many of those do you have?????

Eddie: So many.

Eddie: Save them all, though. I like seeing him happy.

Eddie: He is happy, right? Not just putting a brave face for me every time I call?

Well. She can’t even make fun of that.

Hen: Ever seen those videos of amputated dogs that are learning to move around with prosthetics?

Eddie: Yeah?

Hen: Looks kind of like that. Happy, but still getting used to those wheels instead of legs ❤️

Hen: (The amputated legs are you. And the wheels are all those six thousand two hundred and twenty-two FaceTime calls you’re having on and off shift.)

Eddie: Yeah, I got that. It’s the same for me, really.

Eddie: Really gotta go now. Let me know if Chim sends you balloons!

***

At 21:20, Hen’s the one to send the text.

Hen: [image attached]

Hen: I actually got those fucking balloons. Are you psychic?

Hen: Also featuring chocolates from Bobby.

Eddie: Ha! Not psychic, he’s just predictable.

Hen: LOL, that he is. The worst part is that I actually kind of love them.

Eddie: Not seeing 10 different pies on the table, though. Master baker crisis averted?

Hen: Not yet, but he acted like an awkward butler around me for the rest of the shift. Needed some time to cool off, but I’ll ask him tomorrow.

She sets the phone down and opens the basket of chocolates. There’s a note inside with yet another apology, a birthday wish, and a promise of homemade dinner on their next 48 off. I am loved, I am loved, I am loved, I am loved. She thinks the words on a loop in her head, intending on doing so until she believes then again. God, today sucks.

Her phone pings again, Eddie’s contact illuminated on the screen.

Eddie: I just realized. We have never texted as much as we did today.

Surprised, Hen snorts out a laugh.

Hen: That can’t be right. We’ve known each other for well over 7 years now.

Eddie: I’m serious! Check our previous messages.

And Hen does. The last text before today was a few months ago, when she wished him a happy birthday during their 96 off, to which he responded with a simple thank you. Before that, a bunch of school-related email screenshots and links, mixed in with some carpool-themed “I’ll be there in 15!”s and some Denny and Chris sleepover related negotiations. Each short text thread at least a few days, if not weeks apart. Wow.

Hen: LOL, are we even friends 😂

Eddie: Right?! Like, I know we are, but we have absolutely no way of proving it.

Hen: I’m blaming it on the twelve hundred groupchats the Buckleys have created over the years.

Eddie: Seconded! Why do we need one for every get-together? The original groupchat is fine.

“Mama?” Hen looks up to see Mara standing in the doorway, looking a little unsure of herself.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Mom’s calling you for dinner,” Mara says. “Or, she’s asking if you feel like joining us.”

Hen sighs and stands up. To her surprise, the weight of her chest is lifted somewhat. She didn’t even notice that she calmed down and switched her mood during their chat.

“Of course, I’m coming,” she says and hugs Mara again for good measure before they head to the kitchen. Just to let her know nothing is wrong, that she’s not mad at her. Or anyone, in fact. This stuff happens. I am loved, I am loved, I am loved.

After dinner, she sends Eddie the picture of the cake Mara and Denny brought her.

Hen: [image attached]

Hen: Got the cake after all ❤️🎂

Hen: Thanks for today ❤️

Eddie: Looks good! And, anytime :D

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brazilian-vampyra · 1 year ago

Text

♱ NEEDING SOME LOVE? ｡ﾟ ♡

(english)

⋆ ִֶָ ๋ ✮⋆ synopsis: you are a succubus and offers affection after jjk men pass or are in stressful situations.

⋆ ִֶָ ๋ ✮⋆ characters: ryomen sukuna, gojo satoru, geto suguru, toji fushiguro, choso kamo, nanami kento.

⋆ ִֶָ ๋ ✮⋆ warnings: strong language, rough sex, unprotected sex, praising kink, hair pulling, degradation kink, oral (both receiving), fem!dom, male!dom, creampie, nipple play, teasing, love bites, needy behavior.

⭑ 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎 ⭑

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐄 was tired. He was hella tired.

Some time ago, Kento decided to give up his life as an office worker and put into practice everything he had learned at Jujutsu High. Enduring Gojo Satoru shouting in his ear like he did in high school was the worst of the problems, the big "x" of the issue now was dealing with the curses that arrived in the city.

Sukuna's return seemed to have brought a streak of bad luck to everyone else, and it stressed him, God, how it stressed him.

He had fought against a curse called "Mahito". He was all patched up, had blue hair, was tough and very ironic, the kind that brags about their deplorable exploits. His stupid actions meant that Nanami had to spend more time at work, as he was going to finish his shift at 6 p.m., but Mahito was persistent and stupid, forcing him to work overtime.

He left office life so he could stop working like a convict, and now he was forced to work overtime because of this stupid curse?

It's incredibly disrespectful.

He arrived at the apartment tired, just thinking about taking a relaxing shower and sleeping. Maybe this vacation to Malaysia should be brought forward.

He unlocked the main door and when he entered, he turned on the orange lamp next to it, casting dim light across the room. He was already loosening his tie and muttering some swear words when he came across a peculiar figure on the sofa. You were lying on your side, resting your face in your hand, looking at him with a mischievous smile and slightly shaking your tail.

The tail, as well as the horns and wings were part of your real form, but you made them disappear to be more comfortable sometimes.

━━ What are you doing in my house? — the blonde questioned, without paying much attention to you.

━━ You know how it is, no big deal... — you slid onto the couch. ━━ Just checking if my favorite blonde is okay...

━━ I am very well.

You giggled indiscreetly.

━━ You seem stressed to me...

━━ I can ease my stress on my own, I don't need another curse bothering me today.

You got up from the couch, walking over to him with a hand on your chest, pretending to be offended.

━━ Aww, too bad. I'm not a curse, you know this... — you said, making your most fantasy features disappear, looking like a normal human. ━━ Are you going to treat me like that night was nothing?

He grunted, taking off his tie to make himself more comfortable.

━━ It was a dream. A fucking dream.

━━ It wasn't a dream... — you teased. ━━ But I agree with you on the fucking part. Wow, we fucked so much!

You kept remembering about it, with a mischievous smile on your lips.

━━ What did you come for, you devil? Feed? If so, I'm tired, I don't have any energy to give you.

Well, that's the truth. Succubus feeds on a person's vital energy through sex.

━━ Do I look evil, Kento? I'm here to take care of you. You let me feed myself, I think it's fair that I take care of you.

You took a hand to the blonde's defined jaw and slid your fingers over his skin, watching as he shivered.

━━ You'll see... I can wash your hair... — you took one of his hands and brought it to your face, so he could feel your warm cheek. ━━ Kiss your pretty lips and we can explore each other's bodies, so you will sleep very happy afterwards. Don't you think you need some love?

His mischievous smile was a beautiful invitation. And the blonde gave in to the temptation and desire you emanated. You calmly convinced him, and now you were in the bathroom, in the shower, moaning and feeling the warm water slide over your skin. Nanami's strong body hugged yours from behind, while his hands were covered in liquid soap with passion fruit and chamomile essences.

His huge hands slid over your wet skin and went to your breasts, playing with your nipples between his index and middle fingers; giving you an awesome stimulation.

You could feel his hips grinding against your ass and his cock slides through your tight insides, giving you as much pleasure as you were giving him. The blonde's deep moans were close to your ear, making you bite your lower lip. Your hands were on the blue tiled wall, providing you with some support as he delighted in your body.

━━ I told you... you would be happier- ugh, fuck...

━━ I think you're right, I can't resist that fucking pussy... — he kissed your shoulder. ━━ Goddamn, if these curses keep stressing me out I'm going to need you every week...

━━ I'll always be here for you, darling... — you smiled, biting your bottom lip and brought a hand up to his wet blonde hair, while his lips were on your shoulder, tasting your wet skin. ━━ Every time you need... to give you the sweetest dreams ever.

[...]

⭑ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 ⭑

𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐑 can be irritated and stressed, like ordinary people. With Sukuna's return, there were other curses with Kenjaku causing problems, such as a stranger called Jogo. They didn't seem like a big problem, nothing he couldn't handle, but it was certainly something that would irritate him and require more strength and patience.

He had to balance this with his teaching duties and training the host of the king of curses, Yuji Itadori.

Sometimes Satoru fantasizes about what his life would be like without the responsibility of being a special grade sorcerer. Maybe he could be like most who don't have to worry about literally being humanity's last hope if the curses ever want to claim dominance again.

He had lost his best friend a few years ago, and it still hurt him. He had to take care of Yuji, Megumi and Nobara, as well as put up with hearing shit from other elitist sorcerers.

All of this made Satoru frustrated.

This caused erotic dreams to happen with a certain frequency, and the figure that satisfied him was you, a succubus. You're wrong if you think that your relationship with the most powerful sorcerer was just sex, nothing like that, you also talked a few times, flirted and even saw each other in real life.

At that point, you could already consider each other very close.

Now he had arrived home and removed the bandage that covered his vibrant blue eyes.

━━ I know you are here, sweetie.

He hadn't turned on any lights yet, but then you emerged from the shadows when he turned on the yellow lights in the living room. The lights were in a weaker tone, precisely so that he could be more relaxed and rest, providing a cozy atmosphere.

You were wearing a button-down shirt he had. A long-sleeved white shirt that had a few buttons lazily closed. Your thighs were bare, your smooth skin perfectly visible and your seductive scent carried far and wide. Your horns were not visible, nor were your wings or tail.

He went feral just by seeing this.

━━ I can see in those pretty eyes how tired you are... — you walked closer to him, hugging his neck affectionately. ━━ Wanna tell me what happened?

A muffled laugh echoed between you, a laugh coming from him before he slid his tongue across his lower lip gently.

━━ It's amazing how you always come up with the right words, and that lovely voice... — he wrapped his arms around your waist. ━━ It doesn't even feel like you're here with the purpose of sucking me dry.

You laughed at the audacity of the perfect white-haired sorcerer's words.

━━ Do you think I'm a mercenary who only cares about your life energy, Satoru? What we have is special... — you looked at him with your best puppy eyes.

He smiled happily upon hearing this.

━━ Don't you think you're needing some love, handsome?

You looked at him with your pink eyes, like a shining gemstone. Glowing with lust.

Gojo's response was his lips immediately being pressed against yours. His warm tongue slid against yours, allowing you to taste the mint gum he had been chewing all day. His hands held and squeezed your waist, making you moan against his lips, and he bit your lower lip lightly.

When you realized, you were on his bed. Your clothes were making a trail that led from the living room to the bedroom, and your bodies were sweaty on the sheets. You were on your side, with your head on the pillow, feeling one of Satoru's hands squeezing your breasts while the other held your thigh, slightly raised so that he could thrust his hips with precision against you.

The blue-eyed man bit your neck a little between kisses, probably leaving your skin marked, but he liked it. He liked to have the feeling that you were his.

━━ This pussy calms me down in a way... — he moaned, never stopping moving his hips against you, making the sound of your bodies echo throughout the room. ━━ It's like it was made for me...

━━ Take it easy, love... — you gripped the sheets tightly, feeling his body against yours as your vision was clouded with pleasure. ━━ Or you'll get addicted...

━━ Fucking hell, I already am... — hearing him go crazy was priceless. ━━ I need that damn pussy sliding on my cock every night...

[...]

⭑ 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎 ⭑

𝐅𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊 that even though it was half a curse, the human feelings of this man who was almost two hundred years old were the strongest. He — who had exhausted eyes — was lost among difficult and confused thoughts.

His current mental state lived up to his appearance. He was as worn out as his eyelids and his dark circles. The physical and mental exhaustion of the blood handler was increasingly evident, he no longer knew what to do. He had constant and massive existential crises, which made his head scream.

Being by Kenjaku's side felt right, but something in him told him that wasn't the only option he had. Halloween was coming, the coup in Shibuya was going to happen and Choso only thought about running out of there and never coming back, evaporating like water in a hot pot of rice. But on the other hand, he must avenge the death of his brothers.

Why did life have to be so difficult?

He entered the room, throwing himself on the bed and burying his face in a pillow as he sighed heavily and tried to clear his thoughts. That was when a shiver ran down his spine and he looked at an armchair next to him.

There you were, with your horns and wings and your tail, slowly swaying back and forth like a cat.

━━ Hi, baby.

You smiled and waved calmly at him.

━━ W-Who are you? What are you doing here?

━━ Oh, don't you know who I am? — You were surprised. ━━ Well, let me put on a friendlier appearance to talk to you then.

In the blink of an eye your mystical features disappeared.

━━ Better, right?

You fixed your hair softly.

━━ I'm a succubus, by the look on your face I can assume you've never met one, right?

He nodded shyly.

━━ Well, Choso... I noticed you're so stressed. So tired, so depressed... — you walked over to the bed, running your hands through his silky hair. ━━ That brought me here.

━━ Can I assume you want to kill me...?

You laughed at the man's naivety.

━━ Kill you? No, no. Why would I kill such an adorable guy like you? — he was so adorable and cute. ━━ All I need is a little bit of your life energy, and don't worry, you'll recover in time.

━━ And how do I give it to you?

━━ You'll have to cum for me.

His pale cheeks turned red like ripe strawberries.

━━ W-What!?

━━ Feeding me during sex is the best option, and the best thing is that it doesn't hurt you either... — your hot pink eyes glowed at him, in a tone of eloquent desire. ━━ Don't you think you need some love, baby?

Yes, Choso had to assume that this was the best option for him at the moment. He might have to give you some of his life energy, but at the same time he would be rewarded for it. He was a bit inexperienced, and he didn't hide it — maybe he couldn't even try to hide it.

While you were kissing, he ended up asking to taste your pussy. That was the most promiscuous and shy request a man had ever made to you, two extremes at once. He accepted, and now he was eating you out with a desire that not even an extremely experienced man had ever eaten. His eyes were closed, his hands were squeezing your thighs and his face was buried between your legs.

The desire left him intoxicated, too focused on making you feel good.

Your legs were draped over his shoulders and you held onto his beautiful dark hair, squeezing it every now and then just out of sheer will, as you let him dictate at his own pace. Kamo's tongue slid inside you and his lips worked together to make you moan more and more.

At that point he couldn't take it anymore. The noticeable erection inside his pants was making that piece of clothing tighter and tighter, and if you kept moaning like that while he tasted you, he would probably end up cumming in his boxers. It had been a long time since he had tasted pussy this sweet, and now he felt like he was being bewitched or something.

━━ Hmm... you're so sweet, hm... — he kept eating.

━━ Such a good boy, you're doing well... — looked down, seeing his lips on your soaked sex. ━━ Don't be shy, rub your face on it...

Without even blinking, he held your thighs tighter and rubbed his face against your pussy, making you moan loudly and grip his hair tighter. That was unexpected, as you didn't expect to be dealing with a man who would obey so much.

Choso Kamo is indeed a good boy.

[...]

⭑ 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 ⭑

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐀 𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐍 was far from being a bed of roses. Unlike what is shown in movies or comics, it is a sad, strange life with a growing sense of death because at any moment there could be a sniper waiting for you. Or another hitman who was hired to kill you as personal revenge for some of your work.

It was no different for Toji, who had to kill people almost every day.

The smell of iron coming from the blood was no longer something he found strange, as it was like smelling the good smell of a disinfectant or a perfume that was pleasant. Most of his clothes were black, just so he wouldn't worry about blood stains, his house didn't have light-colored carpets, precisely so that he wouldn't have to do such intense cleaning if blood leaked through a trash bag.

He lived in an extremely simple apartment, in a suburban neighborhood where the rent was very cheap.

Perhaps if his gambling addiction hadn't consumed him, he might have been in a better situation, as he was paid very well for his services. It was no surprise, after all Toji is a professional at what he does.

Today he was hired to kill an extremely important man, and he was protected by some very experienced and strong sorcerers, that was a lot of work and Toji got hurt a little. Now he had taken a cold shower and put on black sweatpants, lying down on the double bed in that small room, lit by the orange light from the streetlight that invaded through the window.

You teleported to his bed, laying down next to him.

Upon smelling her sweet scent entering his nostrils, Fushiguro wrapped a strong arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

━━ I was already thinking about summoning you, my little devil...

His deep voice shook your bones, reverberating on it.

━━ Missing me, my love? — you teased.

━━ Always, honey.

━━ Had a bad day?

━━ Bad as fuck, but now I have you here.

━━ I think you're needing some love, don't you agree? — you turned to him, smiling mischievously and running a hand over the scar he had on his lip.

━━ I need all the love in the world right now.

And so you started kissing. It was an intense kiss, with a lot of desire and lust as your tongues touched and he grunted against your mouth. His kiss always seemed to take the air out of you, leaving you shocked at how good he felt.

Toji Fushiguro is ridiculously good in bed.

Right now, he was reminding you why he's the best you've ever had. This man was fucking you in a deliciously sinful mating press, holding your thighs as his green eyes were locked on yours and he was thrusting his hips against you like there's no tomorrow.

Fucking looking into the eyes was something so intimate and serious that you had never done with anyone; Toji could consider himself a big important milestone in your centuries-old succubus life.

━━ So fuckin' good f'me... — he was going crazy, just like you.

It felt strangely good, feeling him thrusting while you were stuffed. This man had already come and was still hard and needy for more, so much so that some of his hot cum was dripping down your poor little hole.

━━ You're such a whore, aren't you? This pussy is dripping and you still want more...

You smiled mischievously, biting your bottom lip and looking at him.

━━ What can I do? You're irresistible...

[...]

⭑ 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 ⭑

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐒 was not satisfied with his concubines.

Yes, you did not read it wrong. No, that wasn't a doubt, it was an affirmation.

You, like a good succubus, had been watching him from the shadows for a while, because after all, his life seemed to be extremely interesting. Realized from the beginning that he had four concubines, all of them beautiful, with the most different bodies, different shapes. Always dressed in flashy lingerie and wearing jewelry.

But somehow, he no longer looked at them with that hunger and desire he had at first. You wonder why?

The truth is that there was no answer to this notorious question. He had probably just lost interest in them or sex in general for a while because of the problems that were plaguing him. After all, he is the king.

With this in mind, you decided to pay a visit to the lonely king.

You entered his throne room, wearing beautiful red lingerie, adorned with some rubies, which framed your curves very well. Your soft skin was completely exposed and you made a point of letting your perfume emanate far away, as well as your pheromones.

━━ Sukuna... long time no see.

You teased him, laughing softly. You never had to bow to him, he "forgave" your audacity.

━━ Little brat... can I know why are you bothering me?

━━ I came to offer you help.

━━ Help?

━━ I noticed you don't care about your concubines anymore... from afar I feel your dissatisfaction.

He laughed mischievously, in his classic way.

━━ And what did you come here for? Apply to replace one of them?

━━ Sukuna, speaking like that, it seems like you don't know me — you made a subtle gesture with your hand. ━━ I just came here to propose a deal.

━━ What type of deal?

━━ You give me some of your vital energy and I give you pleasure...

He would have said "yes" right away the way he was, but playing hard to get was part of his personality.

━━ What makes you think I would accept this deal?

You smiled mischievously and began to crawl towards him, slowly climbing the steps that led to his throne at the top. Like a cat, it crawls slowly until it reaches the ball of yarn.

━━ Oh, my king... — you knew how to play dirty. ━━ I was watching you the whole time, I can see how frustrated you are.

You rested your head on his thigh, covered by the white kimono.

━━ You're needing some love, my dear...

And he agreed to this deal the right way. You knew you would have to put up with all the brutality of the king of curses, and you were willing to do that, especially because he didn't go beyond the limits, but he really was remarkable.

The white kimono he was wearing was already open, exposing his beautiful body with the marks that were his striking feature. You were kneeling right in front of him, while he held your hair and moaned, with his eyes closed and tilting his head back. Your mouth slid over his huge cock, feeling how his precum slid over your tongue every time you played with his sensitive, pink tip.

Sukuna's moans were as profane as his dark, morbid nature.

But they were truly a pleasure to listen to, and they were so good that it was making your thin panties weat with your desire, which ran down your slits as you used your mouth on him.

━━ F-Fuck... what a good fucking slut you are... — he pulled your hair.

You gagged on his cock a few times. Which was completely acceptable since he was indeed huge.

You were still going to have a lot of fun in that room, you couldn't even imagine that you could fuck in as many positions as he was going to fuck you on that throne.

[...]

⭑ 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 ⭑

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑 was on the verge of going crazy.

Summer was a difficult season, as curses were everywhere and spread like plagues. In fact, the heat was so intense that it could kill the curses on its own, but he, as a sorcerer, had the obligation to act against them.

All that stress was already becoming unbearable, Suguru was already one step away from freaking out and killing everything and everyone in sight — whether it was a curse or not. He no longer cared about anything, and only thought about how complicated his life was and that maybe he wished he could have been born without this gift, so that he could do what "normal people" do.

Fortunately, or unfortunately for the man with long dark hair, you already had an eye on everything. I analyzed him from afar at various times, and thought about when would be the right time to approach him. You heard that he had been having these outbursts since Jujutsu High, now he was an adult and was still trying to control himself for not causing a giant disgrace.

Now he was on the balcony of his bedroom, it was a moonlit, starry and hot night.

His hair was tied up at the top and loose at the bottom, so he felt a little fresher. He was only wearing gray boxers and had picked up a cigarette, when he was about to light it, he noticed that he had lost the lighter.

━━ I always leave it here on the balcony table...

He muttered to himself.

━━ Looking for this?

He heard an unfamiliar female voice behind him and immediately looked to see what it was about. It was you, you were there looking at him like a predator looks at its prey, with your hot pink eyes.

━━ Don't get closer, or I-...

━━ What? Are you gonna eat me? — you teased, while holding his lighter. ━━ I mean, depending on how it goes, I accept it...

━━ Who are you?

You took the cigarette from his hand, politely asking "excuse me", and brought it to your lips, lighting it with the lighter and inhaling the smoke before bringing it to his lips. Suguru should assume that was a very sensual thing to watch, more so than he would like to admit.

You introduced yourself, saying your name to him and offering a gentle smile.

━━ Are you a curse? — he was smoking his cigarette calmly. ━━ I can feel your cursed energy.

━━ Succubus and incubus are not curses, but we have cursed energy.

━━ Then why are you here? I don't think I have anything that interests you, except my skills.

━━ I think your skills are formidable, but I don't want them, don't worry — you leaned over the balcony and took the cigarette from his lips, smoking it before giving it back. ━━ I want something else, and it can help you.

━━ I'm listening.

━━ I want to have sex with you.

Suguru almost choked on his own smoke at that moment. A creature appeared on his bedroom balcony in the middle of a summer night and suddenly said it wanted to have sex with him? That's weird.

━━ Sorry, I'm usually pretty straight to the point, haha.

━━ Can you explain? — he was recovering from his surprised cough.

━━ I feed on vital energy, and I need yours. Don't worry, I won't take everything, and you will recover pretty quickly because of your cursed energy level.

━━ What do I get from that?

━━ I have been watching you during this time, I know you are stressed and exhausted from having to deal with curses. So... I can make you feel good, really good, trust me...

━━ I won't sell myself for lust, not even if... holy shit.

While he was talking, you took off the thin t-shirt you were wearing and left your breasts exposed, leaving now only your denim mini skirt.

━━ C'mon, Suguru... don't you think you deserve some love? — you told him, in your seductive way.

The answer after that was clearly yes, and he buried the cigarette in the ashtray before kissing your lips eagerly and holding you in his arms, dragging you to the bed. Even though you had just met, it wasn't difficult for you to find the harmony between your bodies because somehow, you had the perfect fit.

You told the sorcerer that he just needed to let you ride him so he could be calm and sleep happily. He didn't think twice before accepting the proposal, and now you were there, in his lap.

Geto was lying down, with his eyes closed and moaning slyly while keeping his hands on your hips. You kept your weight on your knees, resting on the mattress as you moved your hips up and down, feeling your pussy milking his cock. His fingerprints would stay on your hot skin for a long time, you never wanted to forget this.

He looked beautiful with his hair messy like that, begging for more and being sensitive.

━━ W-What kind of black magic is this? W-What are you doing to me? — he moaned frantically. ━━ Oh my fucking God... that's so perfect...

You giggled mischievously as you continued moaning and said in your most promiscuous tone:

━━ I put a spell on you... — you brought a hand to his face, sliding it across his lower lip. ━━ Because you're mine...

[...]

۰ ࣪📂 ٬٬ 𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: maybe it's a random topic but i was fantasizing about it one day and decided to write :) everything was written by me, don't take it as yours or get inspired without giving credit.

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john-get-the-salt · 3 months ago

Text

Routine (w/ jack abbott)

Imagine: The nightly routine of working in the pitt with your husband

Contains: Jack being a simp for his girl, RN! Reader

Warnings: Cursing, insinuation of future sexy time but no action

AN: I would take Jack and Robby at the same damn time next question

The day may have been winding down for the city of Pittsburgh, but in your car things were just getting heated up.

Jack was driving, and the two of you were crushing red bulls and blasting 90’s music. Night shift in an ED wasn’t for everybody, but it definitely was for you two. This was your nightly routine to get pumped up for the long night ahead. Maybe there would come a day you two tired of night shift….but that day wasn’t today.

Jack parked and let the song finish so you could finish your karaoke before turning the car off.

“Ready for another hopefully fun night Mr. Abbott?”

“Every night with you is fun Mrs. Abbott.”

You winked and then once getting out of the car linked your hand with his.

You two strolled into the ED with a sync that only came from years of working together. After dropping off your bags and clocking in you did your signature hand shake, kissed each other briefly, and then parted ways.

You had the routine down to a T.

The night turned out to be pretty busy, so you and Jack only caught each other for few minutes at a time. Still, it was enough to be able to find him across the ER and wave or wink at each other.

Amidst the typical craziness, you got a young woman sent back from triage with a laceration to the forehead.

It was all very routine, you were in the room taking her updated vitals and charting some demographics before one of the docs would be in do the sutures. All normal stuff, other than the visitor who was at the woman’s side. He seemed anxious and aggravated, with his arms crossed. He was shifting all of his weight from foot to foot and kept staring at the woman. But the woman wasn’t looking at him, so he was just staring intensely at the side of her head.

Little alarm bells were going off in your head, but you recognized you needed to tread carefully.

“I apologize I’m sure you’ve gone over this already, but for documentation purposes do you mind telling me how you got the injury?”

The woman opened her mouth but before she could speak the man interrupted.

“Like we told the last person, I was at work and she tripped over some books and caught her head on the coffee table. How many times do we have to repeat ourselves to a nurse before an actual medical profession see’s her and let’s us leave?”

You pressed your lips together to keep any choice words from escaping. There weren’t many things you hated quite as much as being talking down to because of your your credentials.

“I apologize sir, it’s just protocol for me to ask again before the doctor comes in.”

The man grumbled but said nothing else. You typed on your computer for a moment before then asking, “Now ma’am did you have any loss of consciousness after your head hit the table?”

“I-”

“No she didn’t.” Again he interrupted.

“If you wouldn’t mind sir I really need her to answer the questions herself to the best of her ability.”

“No, I was there and I’m telling you she didn’t.”

“I’m sorry, I thought you said you were at work?”

The mans eyes narrowed and his face grew beet red. He lurched forward a few steps to get in your face so you took a step back closer to the door. You thanked your higher power that you’d left the door open and weren’t shut in.

“Listen here you bitch, I said she’s fine. We just need some stitches so we can get the fuck out of here.”

You risked glancing outside the door and made eye contact with another of the RN’s standing just outside in the hall. She made a notion with her hands to show she’d called for backup, which filled you with relief. She then made a move like she was going to come in and you shook your head just slightly. Having another nurse come in would likely just escalate things further.

Sir,” you raised your voice so it would carry out of the room, “you have 5 seconds to back the hell away from me before I call security and have you escorted out.”

But that was enough to set the man off again. He took another step and reached his arm out towards you when-

“Wooooah there.” Jack jogged into the room, putting himself directly in between you and the upset man. You released a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding.

“What’s going on in here?”

You looked to the man, eyebrow raised in challenge.

He grit his teeth but stopped fighting. “Nothing, I was just stepping out for a moment.”

“You do that sir.”

The man stomped past the both of you and out of the room, while the pt apologized profusely.

“It’s ok ma’am, someone will be in shortly to finish helping you okay?”

She nodded and you followed Jack back out into the hallway. You both watched as the man was walked back out into the waiting room by security.

“That was hot as fuck.”

You snorted, turning to your husband to find him staring at you with a wicked grin on his face. “What? Me ruining any chance of a good patient satisfaction score?”

“Fuck satisfaction scores. I love seeing you all stern and mean.”

“It was a close one.”

“He’s lucky, I could’ve taken him down like it was nothing.”

You huffed a laugh as your husband puffed his chest out. “Yeah, I know you could have. Thankfully it didn’t come to that….not that I wouldn’t have enjoyed the sight.”

His grin grew even more and instantly regretted your comment. His ego really did not need to be fed anymore.

“I’m gonna go grab the social worker to come talk to her, wanna eat soon?”

“Yeah, as long as you promise to start talking to me the way you talked to that guy.”

“That would be highly inappropriate on the workplace, sir.”

His eyes darkened a shade at that word, and you smirked.

“Huh. I’ll make a mental note of that for later.”

“You’re trouble, you know that?”

You shrugged.

“You knew that when you married me.”

“And I hope you never let me forget it.”

You laughed and he grabbed your hands and pulled you closer to him. He wasn’t big into PDA, but the hall was empty and no one was around. He cupped your chin with one hand and brought your lips to his. He gave you one long kiss, followed by another few quick ones.

You were left breathless, while that bastard just gave you a sly wink before you parted ways. What were you going to do with that man?

Jack really wasn’t going to let that incident go. For the rest of the shift, anytime he caught your eye, he would wiggle his eye brows and you just knew he was thinking about how hot he found angry-you to be.

Eventually the shift came to an end and the sun began to rise.

You were just grabbing your stuff from your locker when Jack found you.

“Ready?”

You nodded around a big yawn. He took your hand in his and walked you out to the nurses station where Robby was getting settled in.

“Morning sleeping beauty,” you greeted.

Robby grinned at the nickname. “Good morning. Aren’t you looking bright and perky this fine morning.”

You flipped him off and Jack just watched in amusement. You and Robby acted like siblings with the way you bickered.

Jack gave his fellow senior resident a quick report of the current house, running through anything important that day shift should know. While he yapped you leaned on him, head on his shoulder.

You were juuuuust nearly asleep when he wrapped an arm around your waist and gave you a kiss on the temple.

“Come on sleepy head, we just gotta make it home.”

You groaned but allowed yourself to be led out of the ER and to your car in the parking lot. Once you were both in and settled Jack drove off, leaving the hospital behind. You snuggled into your seat, eyelids heavy.

“I might not make it home, Jackie.” You said around another big yawn. “I might have to be carried in.”

That nickname only came out when you were really sleepy, so Jack would know you meant business and surely agree to carry you inside…..right?

“That’s fine sweetheart. But if you’re asleep I’m not getting you a mcgriddle.”

You shot up in your seat like you’d just been narcaned. You’d forgotten what day it was! After every Friday night shift, you two stopped at McDonald’s on your way home to grab something to eat before you passed out for the day. It was something little, but it gave you both something to look forward to as a reward. It was part of your routine.

“I’m actually more awake now than I’ve ever been!”

“Oh really? Isn’t that funny.”

“If you get me two McGriddles I’ll call you some mean names tonight before work.”

“Make it this morning after we eat.”

“Deal.”

#fanfic #imagine #drabble #fanfiction #x reader #writing #the pitt #jack abbott #jack abbott x reader #the pitt fanfiction #the Pitt imagine #jack Abbott imagine

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