in which…you make a new life for yourself after being rescued, but that doesn’t stop your ex from finding you.
before you read…18+. nsfw. smut!!!! shauna shipman being shauna shipman. did i mention gay sex. everything is morally grey. wc 3.8k.
no one came to visit you. not friends, not family, just an occasional deer and fox that leave their friendly marks on the dirt surrounding your home, always near the blooming june flowers.
though, you couldn’t say they were the ones who left a beat-up cardboard box on your porch.
you had yet to touch it, because that had meant bringing it inside, opening it, and seeing whatever the fuck it was.
and nothing about an anonymous delivery with no return address, at your cabin in the middle of the damn woods, screams good news.
especially when you’ve done your best to remain off the grid, and away from everyone that once knew you. those girls most importantly. what happened out there, stayed out there; that’s what she told you.
the words that left shauna shipman’s mouth after you were rambling in your hospital bed that you do like her—like like her—your heartbroken self trying to keep what you two had before they found you.
the long romantic nights in your shared hut, whether that meant physical or simply holding her after she was comfortable enough to cry to you.
that wasn’t often, shauna feared vulnerability.
you guess that’s why she couldn’t face her feelings for you when there was a such thing as being in the public eye. why she kept whatever she still felt for you, a secret.
you, her secret.
drunken sleepovers that made her feel alive again. locking you in the bedroom of some rando’s party. parking at the beach at night when it was just you and her and the water and the moon.
that didn’t last. she had jeff, and you had no one, just the weight of feeling like a burden.
you had moved away quietly just a year ago. not a word was said to anyone because they would just try to talk you out of it. thinking it was some fucked up response to your trauma, moving to a remote location, your only neighbors being the trees and passing animals.
maybe it was, or maybe it was just a cheap buy and a desperate urge to get away from everything.
although, that didn’t mean you could truly leave the past, in the past.
you get up from your dining chair, no longer able to occupy yourself with the latest flashy magazine you picked up in town, forcing yourself to walk to your front door.
you open it, and the wind chimes hung on your porch greet you, the metal echoing while the sun sets over the cabin. the package is still sitting at the top of the steps, taunting you.
before you step outside, your eyes scan the area, from the tall vibrant green trees around your home, to whoever could be stalking behind them. there’s no one and nothing, so you push the screen door, the warm breeze hugging you when you walk over and grab the box, not wasting time to get back inside.
you bring it to the table, using a dull knife to cut through the messy tape, a scowl on your face at the idea of something gross being inside.
luckily, it’s not.
it’s a vhs tape, no note, no other random object in the box, just that alone. eerie, and oddly intriguing. you slowly walk to the room over, kneeling before the boxed tv that’s currently on a broadcast of an old game show. the laughter from the speakers cuts off when you switch the channel, inserting the tape into the player beside you.
you should be more hesitant, more worried, but you were now way too fucking curious. the screen is static at first, then plain darkness with muffled voices.
that goes on for nearly a minute before the camera is seemingly tossed on a mattress, facing a wall.
shauna’s wall, her bedroom, and her voice in the background. then, she emerges in the frame, laying back on her bed with her elbows propping her up.
she wears a toothy grin and eyes something off-camera like she’s looking at meat. then you hear yourself.
“why would you fucking invite him?”
you sound pissed, and shauna seems to take enjoyment in it, still smiling like an asshole. typical.
“jeff literally passes out before the family guy theme song ends, chill.”
you turn the volume up, the approaching night causing the temperature to drop and the breeze to pick up, the wind chimes growing louder outside your windows.
“yeah, okay,” you laugh dryly, “i should’ve just gone out with natalie instead of this bullshit.”
“you still can, you know? i mean you’re fucking dressed for it.”
the smile had dropped from shauna’s face the moment you mentioned the other yellowjacket, her dark eyes seemingly scanning your figure still away from the camera, while the angered words spewed from her pink lips.
it goes silent. almost like the camera had broken, and didn’t pick up any audio.
you shift uncomfortably, noticing the way her pixelated face softens and she frowns with a pout. the switch; what she pulled in every argument that got you to shut up when you locked eyes with her doe ones. you predict the next words that leave her lips.
“i’m sorry, okay? c’mere…”
she was always sorry. always for a different reason, and you never once questioned her if she ever truly was; you liked to believe so. you feel pity for yourself, watching you emerge into frame, in that fucking dress she had gifted you.
it was a mint green with tiny white flowers—one that seemed familiar as if you’d seen it in her closet. though, shauna had never worn it.
you stood before her, and shauna dramatically pouted, her palm on the back of your thigh, pulling you into her lap and slipping beneath the material of the dress.
shauna wanted you to see this. to see her hands traveling on the sacred parts of your body and her mouth on your neck; eyes locking momentarily with the camera lenses. you hate her. she’s not here, and you haven’t seen her in so fucking long, but you swear you hate her.
you hit stop on the vhs player, the television screen now blue and reflecting off of your flustered face.
you didn’t need to watch it to remember it. that sleepover took place once your therapy started working and your family stopped coddling you so damn much. things had gone back to a somewhat normal and you thought one night with shauna would be fine. good, even.
you hadn’t known that making out with her until jeff showed up with a pizza, would lead to an argument that would cause you both to stop talking to each other.
you’d bring up her worst habits; like cheating when you could just fucking be together, and she’d say the meanest shit to you to get a reaction, and remove the burning spotlight from herself.
how could she ever date someone as pathetic as you? as boring? you didn’t answer her when she asked that.
she had ended it her hot headed rant with ‘you aren’t special.’
the words that were drilled into your head until the weeks passed and you left her, and that town, behind.
and out of everyone, shauna fucking shipman was the first to find you.
it hits you at once, she came here and you didn’t even notice.
the goosebumps rise on your skin, the metal of the wind chimes clinging with a force. your head turns immediately, eyes peering into the darkness that's outside your windows.
you’re not as pathetic as she thinks.
you get up, walking with hurried steps to your dimly lit room, though you don’t need the warm lamp beside your bed to see beneath it. you know exactly where it is, the shotgun you purchased not even a week of living out here. surely not the safest spot but easy access.
you bend down and grab it, not yet adjusting the safety as you follow your footsteps back to where the tv is still blue, turning and heading towards the door. you turn the porch light on, and exit the home, keeping the weapon pointed while you study your surroundings.
you think you should shout something; especially when a branch snaps to the left of your porch, but you remain mute. you even take a few steps forward, and down the stairs, holding a hardened face and scanning the forest with the gun.
a minute passes, and then two, and nothing greets you. not a scared deer or a protective mother bear or a terrorizing shauna shipman.
the nerves in your system don’t settle, and you nervously turn back around and rush into your small home; where the television screen is no longer blue, and playing the fucking homemade movie.
you don’t let the scene play out, briefly catching a glimpse of her mouth attacking your neck before you unplug the television completely, leaving the screen foggy and dark, with the shadow of two figures reflecting in it.
“that’s lame—you were just getting to the good part.”
you hear her before you see her. part of you doesn’t even want to turn around and face her, to acknowledge shauna is here and not in your nightmares and dreams. you don’t lower your gun, if anything you keep it lined with her chest when you do force yourself to look at her.
“what the fuck are you doing here?”
“i missed you?” shauna says so casually, as if the tension in the cabin was one-sided, or nonexistent completely. she doesn’t even care that you’re pointing a weapon at her—she knows you wouldn’t use it—and she moves away from the door, taking a seat on the couch. legs spread and eyes locked on you.
shauna doesn’t look much different from the last day you saw her; maybe with less makeup and longer hair. she ditched her light clothes for a dark long sleeve and pants similar in shade, and heavy boots rather than the flats jeff likes seeing her wear. she notices the steady trail of your eyes, leaning back in the cushion.
“you don’t think it’s like…stockholm-y to be out here?”
“i like it.”
her mouth opens, then shuts, a hummed laugh.
“yeah,” she mumbles, “i bet you do.”
you bite your tongue, and there’s a beat of silence.
“must be nice,” shauna speaks quietly, daring to remove her eyes from you to inspect your home, fingertips trailing the arm of the couch, “to just…leave.”
“didn’t really feel welcomed back at home,” you mutter, and it’s not rocket science to figure out you’re talking about her, not the occasional judgmental eyes or unwanted sympathy you received at the mall.
she ignores the passive aggressive comment, narrowing her gaze, “you left me behind…so fucking easy for you, too.”
shauna earns a short chuckle from yourself; because you couldn’t help but find it hilarious that she’s somehow the victim here. the narrative that she’s your precious lover that you left in the dust with a smile—when you cried to yourself the first damn night you were miles away.
“that what you came out here for?” you ask, lowering your gun until it points to the scratched-up wood floor, “to throw a pity party?”
“i deserve it after what you did to me,” shauna mutters, making your jaw slightly drop at the sheer audacity shipman had. you couldn’t say you were the best girlfriend, but holy fuck.
sure, you’d blame the shit that happened out there, solely on her, like you weren’t stood firmly by her side when she insisted on staying in the woods. and yeah, she’d beg to see you because you were the only one that understood her, and you’d ignore her calls and keep your door locked when she showed up unexpectedly.
but, shauna was worse. that’s what you tell yourself.
you shake your head, and point your finger, “i did you a favor by fuckin’ leaving—a-and you have him.”
“i never wanted him and you out of everyone know that.”
shauna gets up now, and her height doesn’t play a factor in how she seems to tower you. that’s just her when she got like this; pissed.
“i needed you,” her voice raises, stepping around the coffee table before her, but not yet closer to you. she’s being smart about this—catching her emotions bleed through her tone and gulping, blinking fast.
she pays no mind to the pain ripping through her chest, resisting the urge to scream how fucking badly losing you had hurt, and how selfish you are for not caring. you expect the switch, and her demeanor does indeed shift, but it’s not the kind eyes and light voice.
she slowly walks over, a hint of a grin on her face, watching you dare to raise the shotgun at her. you can only shuffle in place nervously when she’s right in front of you, pressing herself into the barrel.
“think you can do it?” she teases, testing you despite knowing the outcome.
“i just want you to leave, shauna—and not fucking come back,” you tell her, voice wavering and your stare trailing to the center of her chest, where your gun rests. you don’t even sound convincing to yourself.
“think you want a little more than that.”
her hand finds the top of the gun, gripping it at once, observing the way your pretty lips frown while the weapon sways. she truly did miss this.
how not only was it the fear that coursed through you, it was excitement. a quick widening of your eyes as they begin to mirror her darkened ones, letting her take full control of the gun now.
it’s why you connected with shauna shipman in the first place. you’re not that different.
the shotgun is now pointed at you, her head tilting to your kitchen. she demands, “walk.”
you obey. with soft steps, your feet carry you to the room over, barely making it in the archway before you felt the cool metal pressing into your backside, into the thin material of your lavender nightgown.
she pushes you to the small brown dining table in the middle of the room, though the weapon was more so encouragement than force. you bend over the surface without her having to ask, your face tilted sideways on the wood grain.
shauna is already high on euphoria at how easily you let go of any personal fucking ‘morals’ you claim to have, giving yourself up for her the way people do to their beloved gods. as if you never even parted ways. if only. she thinks she’d have somehow gotten you pregnant by now, had she continued to have access to you.
you’re just so beautiful, she thinks, putting the gun beside your head, gently stroking the side of your temple with her thumb. she only sees you in photos now, or envisions the common scowl on your face mid argument. but you like this, waiting for her, yearning for her; fucking angelic.
shauna roughly pushes your nightgown up, pulling down your underwear, nearly drooling at the sight. the plus side about you being out here, meant you were alone—no one to feel you in the ways she pictures before bed.
“you know,” she begins, holding back a laugh at the way you huff to yourself, already so damn eager for her, “i told you i missed you…you didn’t say shit back.”
you don’t respond, nearly twitching the moment her fingers find their way between your thighs, trailing up the skin, and to the most sensitive part.
you sigh, two fingers rubbing precisely in a circular motion with ease; your underwear had grown damp moments ago. another thing so easy for shauna.
“and that’s weird—because…” she leans over you, her hips pressing against your own while her weight is on your back.
her fingers suddenly leave your clit, swiping against your pussy, and she holds her hand up, just inches from your face. she’s forcing you to watch it glisten.
she tries to humiliate you, snickering, “seems like you do.”
shauna doesn’t expect you to grab her wrist, pull her closer, and wrap your lips around her fingertips, pushing your head down upon them. she gulps, a raspy ‘fuck,’ muttered near your ear—before she suddenly bites it, and reconnects her hand to your cunt.
you gasp when she wastes no more time, entering two fingers still coated with your spit inside of you, moving them as if she’s trying to remember what you felt like. you’re squeezing her, groaning her name, and shauna can confirm this is what heaven is.
not fucking pure white clouds and a golden gate like jeff’s parents insist to her—it’s your warmth. in every way that had meant.
she slowly pulls out, both of you exhaling, before she starts to pump them into you.
her wrist is angled in the most perfect way, that her index finger is prodding at that soft and special spot inside you; the lonely cabin filled with the lewd sounds of her fucking you and ragged breaths.
your heavy eyelids are focused on the gun in front of your face, shauna’s hand still on it while her other one is roughly working below your waist. you have to stretch your arms over to the edge of the table, attempting to stop sliding with each thrust—not from her fingers, but rather her pelvis pushing into your ass.
“say it,” she breathes, “tell me you missed me.”
again, you ignore her, only paying attention to the way she was fucking you with no mercy.
her hand frees from the weapon to the base of your neck; a delicate hold with a careful squeeze.
you groan, “i did—i did, shauna.”
she smiles with cocky satisfaction, before occupying her lips on the backside of your shoulder, sinking her teeth into you in sync with her fingers.
you’re clenching around her now; shauna moaning into your flesh at the sensation, slowing down her movements to really feel you.
you’re so close, you weakly try to hump her hand, to increase the speed she’s suddenly lacking. shauna laughs at you this time because you’re too intoxicated on her to care.
“missed you real fuckin’ bad.”
the words leave your mouth like a hushed sin, raw and honest, and probably something you’ll regret once you come down from this high. shauna is fucking thriving.
“should’ve come sooner,” she says, picking up her pace, earning the most heavenly cry from you when she pushes her fingers deep and presses hard. “you just looked so peaceful out here…all alone.”
your blurry vision, somewhat steadies, back onto the gun, replaying what she had just told you again in your head. but it’s too late, your mind goes fuzzy and your legs go limp, whimpering her name when she brings you to that sweet edge.
“c’mon,” she whispers from behind you, “fucking give it to me.”
you feel her fingers slide out of you, focusing once again on your clit, rubbing harsh and sloppy circles that make you see stars. shauna could never forget your body, or how to treat it, it’s her favorite place.
her hips continue to grind into you, teeth nipping at the back of your neck, tickling a sweet spot while you tremble head to toe.
“ssshauna.”
it comes out a very bleak warning, shauna humming but not letting up between your legs. you swear the table she has you bent over will have your nail marks in it, scratching down the surface, shutting your eyes while her hand tightly clutches your throat.
she pulls you up—you can hardly even stand—her grip from nearly choking you is keeping you from collapsing. you’re leaning your weight on her body, still trapped between her and the table, the woman now silent as she brought you to another orgasm.
and it happens fast…for the both of you. shauna couldn’t help it, you felt too perfect squirming against her, and you use her name like your only prayer—she missed this way too damn much.
she has to taste you. she earned it, after all.
with a long trailed stroke on your pussy, she brings her fingers to her salivating mouth, sucking on them and not wasting a single drop of you. her eyes shut in bliss, wishing this could last forever.
then, she snuggles her head into the crook of your neck, an innocent kiss compared to what she had just done.
for a few minutes, the cabin is still, and shauna holds you while you both come down from your high. that is, until you slip from her arms, tugging your underwear back up and fixing your nightgown. her fixated stare doesn’t leave you, and you turn around to meet it.
“…you knew i was here.”
shauna blinks at you, walking away, opening one of the cabinets in the kitchen. she grabs a glass cup, conveniently knowing where they were located, and fills it at the sink.
“i mean, i’m here, aren’t i?”
you bite your tongue, your eyes not leaving hers while she gulps the water down. the faulty wiring in the old cabin makes itself known, the lights flickering once more, a heavy gust of the night breeze flowing through the windows.
“shau—” “how about i run you a bath? with those bubbles you like, hm?”
you don’t get the chance to reply, subtly flinching when she hits the glass on the counter to set it down. with a soft smile, she walks toward you, halting her steps to kiss the apple of your cheek. you start to turn your head, and she grips your chin, tilting your jaw to her.
you’re upset, she knows this, you get stubborn.
deep down, you won’t admit why, but shauna doesn’t need a verbal confirmation from you. she hears you, crying out her name in the darkness of your bedroom, windows open like it was a fucking beckoning.
keeping old polaroids of you together on your nightstand to hold when you needed her. because no matter how many times you scream and shout that you hate shauna shipman—you love her so much more—so deeply and there’s simply no way you could ever stop.
you know what she’s capable of, the sick shit that happened in those woods that she fucking loved. you’ve seen her at her worst and her cruelest and you don’t care.
you’re upset shauna hadn’t made her presence known sooner.
you close your eyes when shauna kisses you, your fists balling around the fabric of her black shirt. it’s not rushed, not at all messy, shauna’s mouth is practically eating yours with a slow hungry passion.
it transports you to the past, and for a moment, there is no bad. not even the kind that you accepted and tolerated and took depraved amusement in. it’s just two people that love each other for who they are, no matter what.
the world unpauses when her tongue stops moving with yours.
shauna pulls away, and continues to the bathroom, walking down the hall and glancing back at you, waiting for you to follow.
thinking about sevika with a gf who has asthma… (i got it too yall teehee totally not self indulgent)
imagine she’s absolutely going to TOWN on you—gripping the plush of your ass, pulling your hair, holding you down,
AND THEN with each unforgiving thrust that knocks your breath out, it QUITE LITERALLY does that. so when your chest heaves and breathing get a little louder, she just slows down, hips never stopping, reaching for your inhaler on the nightstand. THEN she holds the inhaler to your mouth and presses the canister so you can breathe it in.
helps you count to five and all that before givin you a lil kiss and continuing. slower this time, but WAYYYY deeper
Yolanda Garcia, with a female reader who works in pediatrics, sees her holding a baby and can't get it out of her head. In a more intimate moment between them, Yolanda says she wants to get her pregnant. She can't get it out of her head.
⠀ꕀ ❛ baby fever ❜ yo𝓁anda 𝓰arcia ꒱ ｡
• ⟮ yo𝓁anda 𝓰arcia 𝒙 𝓯emale! reader ⟯ ͏͏
smut ◞ baby fever (obvi) ◞ strap usage ( r receiving ) ◞ manhandling kinda ◞ garcia wants to knock you up so bad ◞ passionate sex ◞
…in which after dr. al—hashimi asks you to examine the abandoned baby jane doe, yolanda can't get your image out of her head until you're in her bedroom…
✉️ garcia requests are VERY welcome in my inbox xx
despite working at the same hospital with your girlfriend, you didn't see each other as often as you'd like. you were mostly upstairs in the pediatric ward, and she was in the trauma center. it could be exhausting, but you both still managed to steal a few moments alone a couple of times a day.
you were called downstairs in the morning, and just outside the elevator, you met dr. al—hashimi, who asked you to come with her to help with an abandoned child.
"does she has a name?" you asked, catching a glimpse of yolanda, but before you could even smile, baran placed her hand on your lower back, leading you toward the pediatric ward.
"jane doe. her vitals have stabilized, but i… wanna make sure."
you both walked inside together, and then you noticed a little girl fidgeting restlessly in her crib. baran stayed by your side for a while before her pager goes off. she leaves, promising to return in a bit. after one last glance at her, you fuss with the child for a few more minutes, making sure there are no problems or life-threatening issues.
after finishing, you immediately prepare to leave to return to pediatrics, but something about this girl touches you deeply. so small. so innocent.
"and who abandoned you, princess?" with a heavy sigh, you gently place one arm under her fragile head and the other under her back, lifting the little girl. she squirms in your arms for a few seconds before cooing something incomprehensible and snuggling into the bare patch of your warm chest. some time passes, and you relax, trying to breathe slowly and steadily until quiet footsteps catch your attention.
garcia had been there for several minutes, watching how calmly this troubled child lay in your arms, how you spoke to her as if she were your own. god, it made her chest tighten painfully, her throat dry. you looked so attractive, so tender, that she felt ashamed of her thoughts.
"are you peeping, dr. garcia?" you say quietly, turning to her with a bright smile on your face. she swallows hard, maintaining an impassive expression. she walks steadily until her figure towers yours.
"it's not every day i see my girlfriend holding an abandoned child in her arms," she says, leaning sideways against the doorway.
"she's adorable, isn't she?" you look at little jane doe again, running your thumb over her cheek. "poor, poor baby…"
yolanda's stomach nearly flips as she hears your voice change, taking on a deeper, sweeter tone. she imagines you talking to your own child like that.
"yolo? are you okay?" you tilt your head, looking at her with mild concern, and that look makes her dizzy.
"yeah, i… it's just a shitty shift today, you know," she sighs, pushing away from the doorway to come closer. "have fun with the babies, hermosa. i'll go do adult things." yolanda smiles teasingly, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead and gently run her finger down your cheek, making you smile, quietly saying "i love you" as goodbye.
while you're absorbed in your work, garcia's thoughts continue to drift back to the moment she saw you in the children's ward. god, no one had ever made her feel like this, and it was suffocating her…
yolanda's kisses were too dirty, too passionate, she was so loud. her hands roamed your naked body, greedily claiming every inch, not knowing where to linger for more than a few seconds. "fuck, fuck… mi amor..."
her hips slammed against your ass with every thrust, driving the thick strap deeper into your tight pussy until you felt her begin to turn your insides to mush.
the fabric of her jeans scraped against your skin because she didn't even bother to undress, throwing herself at you with a passion you'd never seen before.
"yolo—yolo, oh my god… fuck!" your back arches so hard it lifts off the bed as her hands slide over your biceps femoris before she puts your legs on her shoulders, bending forward and literally folding you in half. the angle forces the strap to sink even deeper, taking your breath away, a ragged cry of pleasure ripping from your chest that leaves you almost choking.
garcia looks down to where her cock disappears inside you, and her stomach twists again. if only it were real. if only she could come inside you, put her baby inside you, and then again and again, until the feeling of carrying her child is imprinted on your body. and then it comes.
"i wanna get you pregnant." your eyes widen, trying to focus on her face and not on how perfectly she's destroying you. "w—what…?"
garcia swallows hard, moving lower, stretching your muscles further until her lips are inches from your ear.
"i want you to carry my child, no… my children… all swollen and round with my baby. i wanna make you pregnant, you hear me? i want you to give birth to my child. i want…" her breath catches in her throat as another particularly rough thrust sends shivers of pleasure through her body. god, she was desperate. so were you.
"fuck…" forming thoughts in your head was nearly impossible with the things she was saying and the way she was touching you. loud moans are replaced by silent cries and whines, your hands grabbing her shoulders, sliding to her neck to pull her in for a kiss. you instantly take her tongue into your mouth, letting her take control. kiss, bite, suck until your lips go numb.
"i wanna carry your child…" you whisper against her lips, holding her face close to yours. "i want—oh my god…! i wanna give you as many children as you want…"
yolanda's eyes light up with something darker than passion, something primal, as she moans loudly, attacking your lips again until you feel a metallic taste on your tongue and warm tears of pleasure rolling down your cheeks.
why are you in My Mind need dada garcia like a plant needs water...
thinking about garcia doing things that the other residents lowk think is an hr case but you haven't said a word about it and insists shes just messing around and that you two are close. exactly how close though is undisclosed...... 🤨🤨🤨
yes garcia will actually manhandle you if you're in her way in the or. hands grasping your waist and literally moving you. yes perlah and princess talk about it. and just like the casual intimacy that would have any other resident immediately concerned, but it's fine, you can handle it. so she learns fast that you'll allow her to do things like lecturing you in the women's bathroom and also having no issue using physical force (slapping you, grasping wrists) if you're just not getting what she's saying or you talk back to her.
dada garcia coming in still smelling faintly of sleep and a mild cologne #Yum. yes you catch whiffs of her when she brushes past you (again, you're in her way). also Ummmmmm something something garcia somehow ends up tearing her scrubs one day so she goes to that exchange machine thingy to get a new set except the machine's lowkey busted so she just lays her old scrubs on top and wrenches the drawer open to get her new ones. thinking of waiting until the pitt is having a dead hour and slipping into that room and just holding her ripped scrubs to your nose Garcia i need that dick
a/n: i love all of the fics for robby and abbott as much as the next girl but where is the love for my ladies?? need more wlw imagines pls and thank youuu
you know how they say 'don't shit where you eat', turns out it's not a bunch of random words strung together, it's a saying for a reason and pretty sound advise. but when you first laid eyes on dr. yolanda garcia every single thing your best friend cassie mckay advised you went out the window and you dove head first into your whirlwind relationship with garcia.
it was picture perfect at first, she made you breakfast in bed whenever you had days off together, walks in the park, you even owned a dog together (which she kept since she was more emotionally invested in sammy anyway) almost a year and a half in the cracks started to appear, long nights with no calls or text, shortened answers, it just didn't seem like she wanted to be with you any longer so you did what she clearly couldn't do and broke it off.
you were devastated of course but 5 months later and you're starting to get back on your feet. the one hard rule you both agreed on was to keep it professional at work and you tried to... sometimes.
"and what do we have today?" you say walking into the buzzing trauma room.
"high power machine degloved his arm almost crushing it completely. his buddy wasn't looking and fell onto a button. freak accident," perlah says.
the new interns and med students gather around waiting to be instructed.
you walk up to the patient. "wow, i know you guys don't get paid enough for shit like this,"
he almost laughs but it's too painful. "no kidding," he grunts instead, clearly trying to mask the pain.
"sir, my name is y/n y/l/n. you feel pain anywhere else on your body?"
it was at the moment your ex walks in.
"what's up party people?" she asks before her eyes lock on you. "why are you here? this is my consult."
"the page went to all surgeons. i got here first," you shrug.
"god, i wish i had popcorn for this," langdon says as he asses the patient.
"shut up langdon," you and garcia say in unison. if you weren't in a constant state of botherment with her, you would've smiled at that.
"okay, i'll just stand here and watch," garcia says making her way to the back, eyes still trained on you.
"fine by me. it's your time wasted," you retort. "you," you say pointing to one of the newbies.
startled, she points at herself.
"yes, you. name?"
"uh, santos. trinity santos."
"okay, santos. i need you over on this side. you're gonna carefully dress this arm before we take him up for a head ct,"
"how do you know he needs a head ct. his arm is a straightforward repair," garcia pipes up.
you make it a point to look at your ex and then at the patient, "sir, when you hurt your arm, did you fall? hit your head?"
"yeah, pretty hard," he says through clenched teeth.
you give an 'i told you so' smile to garcia causing her to roll her eyes.
"i think i'm done here," garcia says walking out annoyed, which you feel pretty content with.
"nooo, it was getting so good," langdon says.
"langdon, for the love of god, get a hobby. santos, on my right," you say.
santos makes her way around. you hand her gauze. "perlah, push some morphine,"
you cover his exposed arm with the skin dangling off. screams erupt from him.
"i know, sir. we're almost done here. okay santos, wrap 'er up,"
"can't we get a nurse to do this?"
you look at her, kind of shocked, very disrespected. "excuse you?"
"garcia's probably on some gnarly case right now and i just-"
you take the gauze from her. "you're free to go, dr. santos"
"oh i- no i just meant-" "i said you can go," you turn away from her. you point to another one of the interns/med students. "dr..."
"whitaker. just whitaker. i'm ms4."
you hold out the gauze to whitaker. "is wrapping gauze on this patient a task you feel is beneath you, whitaker?"
"no, dr. y/n," he shakes his head.
"great, it's all yours," you say moving out of the way as he comes around and starts wrapping.
･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･
bar hangouts after long shifts got you through most of your days. you get to have your hair down, literally, and decompress from the day with your colleagues. it's essential to your survival.
mckay rants about her day. "and he was such a weirdo, like 'sir, your daughter is about to have surgery. stop trying to get my number'... god, i can't stand men,"
"amen," you say clinking your glass with hers.
"hey, as the only man here, i take offence for all of us, okay? some of us are good guys," langdon interjects.
"no, i'm not having this conversation with you again, frank, i'm just not," you chuckle.
"what? i'm just saying..." his joyful voice trails off as he stares at something, rather someone, behind you.
you look at him confused, "what are y-"
you turn around, now face to face with santos. she looks solemn and nervous and behind her... garcia.
"what the fuck is going on?" langdon whisper to mckay.
"i don't know but i feel like we shouldn't be here for this," mckay whispers back.
"we'll be at the bar," she announces to the table, dragging langdon by the hand who so clearly wanted to stay.
it was like you were in a staring competition with garcia. even after all this time, you couldn't help it, you can't take your eyes off her.
"santos, garcia... what's up?" you say stretching our words. why were they together and what did this have to with you?
"go on, santos, tell her," garcia says sternly, hands in her leather jacket. oh, she means business.
"y/l/n, i mean dr. y/l/n, i wanted to... apologize for my behaviour this morning. every case is important and every patient deserve our upmost care. i should've known better. i'm sorry," santos fiddles with her jacket zipper, avoiding eye contact.
you were just as shocked as this morning. "oh... okay, well, it's much appreciated. and you're right, you should've known better but... it's your first week and we are at a bar right now and i don't wanna talk about work, so if it's okay with you, it's water under the bridge,"
santos finally looks up, a smile adorns her face, "yeah, water under the bridge, i'd like that. thank you dr. y/l/n,"
"okay, that's all, santos. you can go now," garcia says.
santos scurries away to the other side of the bar with her age-mate colleagues leaving you with garcia.
tilting your head a bit, you give her a look, "okay, cut the bullshit, what was that about?"
"she kept bragging about getting off your case and needing a bigger challenge than wrapping gauze so i gently put her in her place," garcia shrugs like it's no big deal.
"and then brought her to do... that," you add.
"yeah, well, she was disrespecting you and i couldn't have that," garcia says with a seriousness, a protective seriousness, that you haven't seen in a while.
"i don't need you protecting me, yolanda, i'm a grown ass woman,"
"oh trust me i know you are," she says in a flirtatious manner but reigns it in quickly when she sees your deadpanned face. "i'm more than aware that you don't need my protection, but that doesn't mean i won't give it. i always will... even if you hate the sight of me."
you're silent for a moment, playing with the empty beer pint in front of you.
"i don't." you finally say. garcia looks at you, trying to decipher your words. "i don't hate the sight of you."
"you don't?" she asks, hope ever so present in her voice.
you shake your head. the next words bubbled to the surface and out of your mouth before you could stop it. "i miss you actually,"
"b-but you broke up with me? and i still don't know why."
"here's why, yolanda," you shifted in your seat to face the standing woman. "i broke up with you because you forgot about me. i don't know what was going on with you at the time and maybe i should've asked but i do know that i faded into the background. it was like... like you didn't see me anymore. so i did us both a favour."
garcia hangs her head in shame. "i-i had no idea you felt that way,"
"i'm not without fault i should've tried harder to communicate, i don't know," you shrug defeatedly .
"for what it's worth, i miss you too," she says taking one step closer to you. "and i really wanna fucking kiss you right now,"
"oh and there it is," you shake your head amused at her honesty.
"what, too soon?" she smirks.
you stare into her eyes and you know she means every word she's saying right now.
"okay, you can kiss me..." you say. garcia is quick to move in between your legs and cup your face. you put a hand on her forearm, "... on one condition,"
"name it. i'll do anything," she strokes your cheek with her thumb.
"i... want us to prioritize each other. but not like before. i mean intentionally. i... can't go through this again,"
"you won't. i promise," she says softly before drawing your face up to her hers closing the gap. a warm and comfortable feeling ran through your body as your lips touched. the kiss was soft and passionate. it would've gone on longer if your well-intentioned friends didn't ruin.
"let's goooooo!" langdon yells from the other side of the bar.
"get it girl," mckay joins in.
you pulled away from garcia laughing and slightly embarrassed. she strokes your hair. "so... does this mean i get a second chance?"
"yes... but you’re on probation so tread carefully," you say, kissing her once more, signing a new lease on your relationship.
ʚ cont— you bend shoko over your desk and fuck her freaky style (with a strap)
“Oh my fucking—” Shoko’s eyes roll back in her head, her hand reaching back to grip your ass. Her manicured nails dig into your skin, leaving crescent moons behind.
You have her bent over your desk in your office late into the night. Everyone has long gone home, or to the faculty housing on the school grounds, leaving Shoko and you alone in the school. The lights in the room are off, save for the single lamp on your desk, illuminating her pale skin in an orange glow that makes her look like an angel given flesh.
“Yes,” she gasps, eyes rolling back in her head. “Right there, baby.”
You moan, gripping her hips with both your hands to fuck the strap into her cunt. You roll your hips the way she likes, making her breath cut off abruptly, before she buries her head against the desk and moans.
Shoko isn’t very loud when the two of you have sex, but the noises she does never fail to make you drip. Her raspy voice sounds so erotic when she moans. And her gasps and grunts, so desperate and raw, make your head spin. It was a good thing you had your strap in your room at the faculty housing. When Shoko sent you a text an hour ago letting you know she was going to need some “help” de-stressing after work, you’ve never ran so fast to grab what you knew she needed.
“Right here?” You ask, repeating that motion while reaching between her legs to find her swollen clit. Finding her fingers already toying with the little bud, you slap her hand away and replace her touch with your own, using your middle and pointer fingers to draw tight circles against her clit.
Shoko grips the desk, nodding with her face buried in the papers. “Don’t you dare stop.” One of her legs kicks up in pleasure, her heel bumping into your ass. You can feel her squeezing her thighs together, pressing your fingers harder into her needy clit.
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” you smirked, leaning down to press a kiss to the back of her overheated flesh. Her long hair draped over the back of her naked spine, creating the most erotic sight you’ve ever seen. Her waist looked even more insane than it usually did with her position. She looked so sexy, it was hard to control your thrusts when your own need made you want to selfishly squeeze your own thighs together in appreciation. But she needed this. Your needs would come later.
“You needed me bad, huh?”
She nods, turning her head to the side to look at you. The tips of her ears and her cheeks are flush red. And her dark shadow covered eyelids keep fluttering as you fuck the strap into her, making her body bounce. “Yes.”
You lean over her body and she lets out a loud hiss as the strap is pressed against her ass, as deep as it can go. “And you’re taking it so well, my pretty girl.”
She smirks, her laugh tapering off into a groan when you roll your hips in circles, matching the rhythm of your fingers on her clit. “I love your mouth.”
Leaning forward with a smile, you capture her lips, as soft as butter, and pick up the pace of your thrusts. She gasps, breaking the kiss, but you don’t allow it. Finding her lips once more, you lead her to follow your lips and tongue, taking control. “You’re so hot,” you gasp. “I’m obsessed with you.”
Shoko chuckles, her teeth digging into her bottom lip. “R-really? I had no idea.”
You thrust forward, your pelvis slapping against her ass, and she cries into your mouth, a sound much louder than she usually makes. It makes your head fucking spin. “Yeah,” you nod, playing along. “I love your body,” you slide your hand up the side of her body, feeling her curves before sliding back down to grip her ass. “Love your sounds,” you kiss her parted lips, thighs cramping as you force your tired body to keep fucking her, knowing the tension you’re feeling is because she’s about to cum. “Love how you need me.”
“Shit. Baby—” The hand that was on your ass curls behind your head, as she forces your foreheads together. Her eyes open, and they’re so glassy with pleasure, so wet and shiny, you can see your reflection in them. The love reflected back. She nods her head, her eyes rolling back. “I love you.”
You’re a fucking goner.
With a desperate sound, you pull away and adjust your stance behind her. “Hold on to the desk,” you order, and she obeys without hesitation. It was a good thing too, because you gave her no time to wait before you pulled back, and slammed the strap into her, yanking her hips against you with every thrust.
“Ah!—” She cries, knuckles whitening around the corner of the desk. She reaches between her legs with one hand, quickly finding her clit to rub furiously in the way she needs. “Shit! Shitshitshitshit— I’m gonna—”
You feel yourself clench around nothing, clit throbbing in neglect. “Cum for me baby, cum all over my cock.”
Her forehead thumps against the wood at the same time her back arches. And fuck, is it the most beautiful sight you’ve ever seen, watching her find her pleasure. Her thighs snap together, knees bending and legs going weak as she orgasms around you. Her pleasure drips from between her legs, making a mess on the floor under her.
“Good girl, Shoko. So fucking sexy,” you moan, eyes bouncing from her plump ass, to her perfect arch, to the sliver of her face you can see. Her mouth is open as she cums silently, only gasps and half moans getting caught in her throat.
You keep fucking her through it until she removes her hand from between her legs and places her hand on your lower stomach. The wetness from her cunt touches your flesh, and your head spins a bit. God. You are so helplessly in love with her.
“Fuck…” she gasps, back relaxing from it’s arched state.
With a chuckle, you run your hand down her damp spine and pull out of her, biting your lip at the sight of her orgasm all over the toy.
With one hand still on her body, you loosen the strap from around your hip with a hand and let it fall down your thighs until it hits the floor. Kicking it away, you come up behind her and wrap your arms under hers, nuzzling your head into the back of her neck. “You smell so good,” you whisper, kissing her soft hair. “Was that okay?”
She turns her head to see you, pushing back against you subtly to let her free. Once she is, she sits on the top of your wooden desk and grabs your hips, pulling you between her legs.
Her bare body in all its glory on top of your desk is a sight you quickly burned into your memory to never be forgotten. Her hands slide up your torso, over your breasts until she wraps her arms around your neck. “Do I look okay?” She asks, cocking a brow.
Her body is flushed red, her hair is a mess, and her makeup that was once perfect, is now smeared under her eyes and dripping down her cheeks. You reach up and tuck a strand of her unruly hair behind her ear, before cupping her cheek in your hand. “Perfect,” you answer.
A smile slowly curves her features until she lets out a low breath of a laugh. “You really are obsessed with me.”
She pulls you in as you lean forward, breaths tickling her perfect lips. “More than you will ever know,” you whisper. “You have ruined me, my sweet, perfect woman.”
pairings: baran al-hashimi x f!reader, slight yolanda garcia x f!reader
contains: jealous!baran, slight angst, flirty!yolanda, unestablished relationships
word count: 1186
The trauma bay always had a life of its own—monitors chimed, gurney wheels rattled, and voices cut through the chaos with practiced urgency. You’d learned to move with it, go with the flow with disciplined haste from years of experience.
Still, today felt a bit off.
“Hey, hermosa,” Yolanda Garcia called, leaning against the counter beside you like she had all the free time in the world. Which, in this moment, she somehow did. “You’ve been avoiding me all shift,” she said.
“I’ve been working unlike you,” you replied teasingly, not looking up from the chart you were reviewing.
“Mmhmm,” Yolanda hummed, seemingly unconvinced. “And yet, somehow, you’re still able to look this pretty sweaty and all.”
You couldn’t help but let out a soft snort at that. “You use that line on everyone, YoYo?”
“No,” she said easily, taking a couple of steps closer to you. “Just the ones I want to take out on a date,” she smirked.
You finally glanced up from charting and immediately regretted it. Her lopsided grin oozed confidence and was the kind that made you a bit nervous if you looked at it too long.
And then another voice suddenly pulled you back to reality.
“You’re needed in Trauma Two, Dr.”
The voice echoed throughout the room. It was controlled. Too controlled.
You didn’t have to turn to know who it was.
You could see Dr. Al-Hashimi's silhouette. She was standing behind Yolanda, arms crossed, gaze fixed on you with such an intensity that it made your stomach flip. You couldn’t put a finger on her gaze. It wasn’t exactly anger, but there was something there that filled your stomach with butterflies.
She was analyzing you. Trying to figure out something in her mind.
“Am I?” you asked, raising a brow.
“Yes,” Baran said, her voice clipped. “Unless you’d prefer to keep . . . flirting with Dr. Garcia.”
Yolanda couldn’t help but laugh. “Wow. Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today.”
“I’m prioritizing patient care unlike both of you,” Baran replied flatly.
“You sure about that?” Yolanda gazes at Baran.
Despite the tension, you couldn’t help but fight back a smile, stepping past Yolanda before this escalated into something else. You finished up your charting swiftly, and you say, “I’ll be right there.”
Baran didn’t move immediately when you passed her—feeling the tension radiate off her body, you put your hand on the small of her back when passing her. As you walk past her, she fell into step beside you, leaving Trauma Bay One. Her presence is demanding and quiet.
“You’re easily distracted today, especially with Dr. Garcia,” she said after a beat.
“I’m not distracted, nor am I distracted by her.”
“You let her interrupt you five times since she was called down here,” Baran says while staring intensely at your face, looking for any reaction.
You blinked. “You were counting?” you say, slightly bewildered.
Baran didn’t answer that. Instead: “She seems to only do that when you’re around.”
“What? Flirting?” you said, glancing sideways.
Baran’s jaw tightened at the last word. “Yes.”
“I don’t really see an issue with it. She’s probably doing that to pass the time in this hellhole. Do you... have an issue with that?” you say.
“It’s highly unprofessional.”
You huffed a laugh at that. “In this hospital? Be serious.”
That earned you a sharp look. Not unkind. But not friendly either. “Well... some of us like to keep our standards high,” she says.
You stopped just outside Trauma Two, turning to face her fully now. “Is that what this is about?”
“What is?”
“You're pulling rank because Yolanda called me beautiful in Spanish.”
“I didn’t pull rank at all.”
“You practically marched over to us, demanding I head to Trauma Two over a simple word.”
“I gave you an assignment. It’s best if you get to it immediately.”
“Mmhmmm. Is that what we’re calling it, Dr. Al?”
Baran let out a broken exhale, her breath uncontrolled, as if she was fighting an internal battle. “We have a patient who needs help immediately. I need you focused. I’d rather you not have all your attention on Dr. Garcia like you have been doing this whole shift,” she murmurs out the last part.
And there it was—the shift. The real reason. Or at least, part of it you tell yourself.
Your expression softened slightly. “You could’ve just said that.”
“I did.”
“No, you didn’t, Dr. Al,” you look at her face, searching for anything that confirms your suspicions.
Something flickered across her face—annoyance, maybe. Or something more complicated.
Before she could respond back, Yolanda’s voice rang out from down the hall “Don’t steal her from me all day, Dr. Al-Hashimi!”
Baran didn’t even look back. “She does belong to you, nor will she ever,” she says to herself in a quiet whisper. You were barely able to make out what she said.
The words landed harder than they should have. Shock was felt all throughout your body.
You raised your brows. “Wow. Soooo. . . what was that?”
“What was what?” she says, seemingly confused. Immediately, Baran seemed to realize what her internal thoughts slipped out into a whisper without her realizing it. She realizes it’s too late to take it back. Her expression spooked, her composure snapped back into place. “Inside. NOW,” she said, gesturing towards the supply closet.
But you didn’t move right away. You stood your ground.
“She doesn’t mean what she says to me. We’re just friends,” you said quietly.
“I know.”
“You don’t have to worry about. I’m a big girl I can take care of myself.”
“I know that too.”
You tilted your head. “Then why do you look like you’re about to fight Dr. Garcia in front of the nursing station?”
That made her pause.
For a moment, the noise of the ER faded—just a beat, just enough to feel the weight of her attention fully on you.
“I don’t like it when she flirts with you. It makes me wonder if she can have you when I know I can do better than she could ever do,” she said finally.
Realization sets in, and that makes you blush profusely. “You could have just said you liked me cause I may or may not like you too,” you murmur as a shy smile reaches your face.
Another beat. Tension is brewing intensely.
Then—
“Dr. Al-Hashimi!” Dr. Javadi calls over. “I was wondering if I could get your insight on a case I’m working on.”
Baran broke eye contact first, turning sharply toward the room. “Coming.” She hesitated, just briefly, before turning her attention back onto you. She turns to you, “I’d like to continue this talk over dinner after this shift,” she says, a small smile reaching her face.
You can’t help but walk away with the biggest smile on your face.
What you both didn't realize is that someone has been watching both of you the entire time.
From across the hall, Yolanda watched with a knowing smile heading back upstairs.
She's the type of being super shy and awkward in the first interactions, but once she gains trust, she transforms into the sweetest angel ever.
She gets surprised when you tell her that you were kinda scared of her at first because she looks so cool and so intimidating. She literally can't believe it and will ask you for a list of reasons why you were scared of her.
You and her became so close to each other that dating just made sense!!!
She gave you a peck on the lips after you helped her do her eyeliner, it took her too many tries to gather the courage. But you were holding her chin so softly and your lips looked so kissable. She couldn't resist.
Two dates later, you asked her to be your girlfriend with a gorgeous bouquet of dark red roses.
She said yes, of course.
WHILE DATING
She's extremely touched-starved and super shy to ask for physical contact or PDA. The first week she just holds your pinkie like she did when you were friends. Then it progresses: she falls asleep in your shoulder in the train, she fidgets with your rings, she loops her arm around yours...
When you ask her if it's okay to hold hands, she says yes immediately, nodding vigorously not even trying to hide her excitement.
The first kiss is even better. She's the one asking you, with her hands behind her back and dancing in her heel if she can kiss you. You imitate her, nodding and saying yes at the moment.
She has a secret folder on her phone titled “you ♡”. It’s filled with the most mundane candid photos she’s taken of you: you laughing with your head thrown back at the diner, you half-asleep on her couch with her oversized black hoodie swallowing you, you making a stupid face while trying to match her winged eyeliner, you holding her hand under the table.
She can get possessive some times, wrapping her arms around your waist and resting her chin on your shoulder. If someone is trying to hit on you she just looks at them dead in the eye. "She's mine."
Later, she gets so red, mumbling apologies about being weird and unnecessarily possessive. But you just keep kissing her knuckles until she stops hiding her face.
She loves horror games but know that you get jumpscared easily, so she lets you cuddle by her side, eating snacks. Every time you jump at something, she pauses the game to give you a kiss on the tip of your nose and feed you a gummy bear.
She calls you "babe" most of the time, "angel" or "darling" if you are alone and she's feeling bold.
Loves leaving lipstick stains in your face and neck. Will take pics of you after a make out sesh with her makeup all over her face.
In your sixth month anniversary, you gifted her one of those make up palettes with different shades of face paints. You know how she's been saving full goth glam (white face and all) in her Pinterest. She beams, jumping in your arms and giving you a big kiss on the lips. That night, you two spend hours doing goth make up to each other.
You don't meet her friends after a long time of dating. Maybe 8 or 9 months. Not because she wants to hide you (she actually posts you every time she can) but because she's terribly embarrassed of whatever she has as friends.
She warns you that her friends can be a little weird some times and that it's totally okay if you don't like them. Seeing Mikasa's aesthetic, you were expecting something totally different than what you found.
Some dudes, a nerd and a girl who has gone through four bags of chips since you spotted them.
After the hang out, she keeps asking you about them and if you liked them and if you want to break up with her????
"Why would I break up with you? Your friends are cool, baby. Not as cool as you, tho." You lean to kiss her lips and she smiles like an idiot against them. "You're such a flirt," she tells you, wrapping her hands around your waist to pull you closer. "But be honest, you really didn't find Jean weird?" "Not at all, babe. Eren was staring too much, tho."
⤷ ゛𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 volleyball player!mikasa + friend of a friend!reader , series incoming !! <3 fanart from here ˎˊ˗
⤿ warnings: fem!afab!reader ✶ friends to lovers trope ✶ european!writer with a little struggle in understanding american college dynamics ✶ college!au ✶ fluff ✶ smut ✶ minor angst element.﹙♥︎﹚ : nsfw content
ꪆৎ CHAPTER I :: pretty fly ( for a player ) ⊹ ࣪ ˖
ʚ hollow eyed in the field, your friend has the idea of having you meet the new presence she’s been longing with. a party has begun, bound to fall for the indulgence.
ꪆৎ CHAPTER II :: none of your business ⊹ ࣪ ˖
ʚ you have your interest caught into the tough college routine, but some free time isn’t considered as damage, as far as you’re concerned.
ꪆৎ CHAPTER III :: so nervously now ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ﹙♥︎﹚
ʚ crazy way to start a quarter, known as the right time to engage in new activities and forget the nightmares that afflict you within the schedules.
ꪆৎ CHAPTER IV :: knocks at the door ⊹ ࣪ ˖
ʚ as soon as things start to light up, the stress you’ve gathered comes to the surface again, weirdly reflecting on anyone that’s trying to talk to you.
ꪆৎ CHAPTER V :: take me back ⊹ ࣪ ˖
ʚ soon, awfully soon, actions start to face their own consequences. luckily, someone’s there to hold your temper in.
ꪆৎ CHAPTER VI :: not letting up ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ﹙♥︎﹚
ʚ you have the audacity, you’ve hidden it for too long. it’s now time to join with your own feelings, and it may be a benefit for someone’s state, apparently.
🏷️ tags . . . @bewitched-pearl @mimipeeeeepee @pancakes21 @bbatzvil @diouna @mariistic @mojo-is-rising ➥ if you wanna be in comment on this post !!
tags: afab! reader, shy! reader, face sitting, one slap
notes ! - I’M BACK?????? i missed u also i <3 laid back mikasa i want her to fuck me anywhere she wants whenever she wants literally use me 😞
“don’t feel shy lovely” mikasa held you, thighs pressing against the sides of her face. you didn’t listen to her. your legs shook with anticipation, your pussy hovering over her. “but i don’t wanna hurt you mikasa and…” you trailed off as you felt her hot breath on your pussy, clenching and unclenching around nothing. “wanna finish that sentence baby?” your hands trembled at her words, “or do you wanna let me make you feel good?” she gripped your thighs, forcing you down on her face, making you gasp in surprise. her mouth immediately locked on your throbbing clit, hand coming up to rub her thumb across your dripping pussy. your arms almost buckled beneath you from the sudden feeling, pure pleasure washing over you as mikasa ate you out determindedly. “m-mikasa… fuck- feels really good” her light chuckle under you sent shivers up your body and your thighs squeezing mikasa’s head even more. “i know baby but you gotta relax for me, alright?” you try to compose yourself, taking a deep breath, but a sharp inhale interrupted your attempt as mikasa started to push two of her fingers inside of your sopping cunt. “oh my god please mikasa” you practically collapsed on her, one arm letting up and the other folding. you began to grind on her face, your chest rising and falling quickly, heartbeat increasing. “someone’s desperate, huh?” your cheeks flushed at her words and you whined, stopping. you felt a lazy yet harsh slap burn on your thigh, your whimper echoing against the walls. “don’t stop pretty, let me make you feel good. i wanna make you see stars.”
˖᯽ ݁˖· ─ Rockstar!Maki who always gives you a kiss before her concerts because your kisses give her “luck”.
˖᯽ ݁˖· ─ Rockstar!Maki who is always seen backstage hugging you tightly and only letting go when she has to do sound checks or her concert is about to begin.
˖᯽ ݁˖· ─ Rockstar!Maki who only lets you do her makeup. If you’re not able to do it, she’ll reluctantly let a makeup artist do it. But she’ll glare the entire time.
˖᯽ ݁˖· ─ Rockstar!Maki who has a lot of lyrics about a specific girl that captured her heart..
˖᯽ ݁˖· ─ Rockstar!Maki who accidentally made it public that she was dating someone. During an interview the interviewer asked if anyone had stolen her heart and without thinking she said:
“Yes, and she’s wonderful. I’m very lucky to have her.”
not even her PR team could cover that up.
˖᯽ ݁˖· ─ Rockstar!Maki who, after she (accidentally) told the world she was dating someone, made sure to tease her fans of who it she’s dating by making posts like:
“Me and her are excited to release this new album!”
˖᯽ ݁˖· ─ Rockstar!Maki who takes you to all of her album shoots and gets the photographer to take extra pictures of you so she can frame them in her at-home music studio.
˖᯽ ݁˖· ─ Rockstar!Maki who officially announced you to her fans when she pulled you onto the stage and kissed you after a song specifically dedicated to you.
˖᯽ ݁˖· ─ Rockstar!Maki who released a cover album consisting of her covering your favorite songs.
˖᯽ ݁˖· ─ Rockstar!Maki who started to teach you how to read music sheets and even how to play the guitar (she just wants to watch you do something she loves).
“x reader” fics where hot women are fighting over me and getting jealous acting like i’m a 10/10 stunna but i’m literally reading them in bed like this
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kaledo-art
areudirty
ellievsbear
