Sweets

[luvsickbugs]

Anons: 🍑, 🦝,

I only write bottom reader

(includes power bottom and any gender!)

KINKMAS 2025

Marvel fics

Dc fics

Outerbanks fics

Harry potter/Marauders fics

coming soon fics:

Rogue x fem reader comfort

Rogue x male reader smut

Dave Lizewski x gn reader fluff

Rogue x remy x ftm reader fluff

[luvsickbugs]

I LOVE YOU OR SOMETHING..

characters: Marauders x gn reader

Warnings: yes this does include peter and yes i do write for him. Angst at the end of peters.

Plot: Just the way they show you how they love you without saying the words.

James Potter

He is a theater kid at heart, He would dedicated crazy pranks to you.

That pink firework that blew up in the great hall? That was for you. The ravenclaws books got cursed and chased them and tried to eat them? That was for you because how dare one of them pass you in a class??

It's a little crazy. But he thinks it's his way of defending you even if you dont need it and you will definitely be on top of that class again by next week.

He will nodded so quickly you think he broke his neck when you ask him if he would like to go to the library with you. He doesn't study even though you offer to help him, He just nods every now and then when you ask him something. His main focus being you, He will flip a page when you do but his eyes will not leave you unless you point out a word you dont know or if you ask him to read something or grab something..

He'll break his neck if you go, "Oh, I forgot we need--"

He'll find it just give him a moment, He has to get off the floor because he tripped over the chair trying to get up.

It's done with love and if you ever point out something is weird, He'll try and pull back but he doesn't know how to not love with his full heart so guide him and help him learn the way you wish to be loved.

Remus Lupin

Nothing crazy from him, I'm a big remus lupin has chronic pain truther.

His way of showing love is asking you to study with him in the astronomy tower, It's the only place he can really think and not get dragged off subject by the other marauders.

He would get you a refill of ink before you even noticed it was low, He would push you towards the best chocolates when you go out to hogsmeade. You ask him how he always picks the best chocolate candies, He just shrugs.

Speaking of that, I dont think he tells you until you both graduate hogwarts that he's a werewolf. I mean he probably would have never told his friends if they hadn't figured it out themselves.

It's not because he doesn't trust you, He doesn't trust himself, He knows what he is and he completely understands if you don't like him anymore for it.

And when you dont leave him, He might be slightly confused for a moment. He always assumed he wouldn't find love, He thought just because his friends didn't leave him that didn't mean you would stay.

Being friends with a werewolf was completely different than dating one.

He will make you vow to not tell anyone just like he did with his friends.

You will be waking up to small stacks of chocolate on your nightstand till the day you die now, please enjoy.

Sirius Black

Chaos. Simply chaos. That's how you explain him to everyone.

He wakes you up by jumping on you, He will talk your ear off while eating breakfast. He will be telling you about the pranks he dreamt about and how he cant wait to do them.

I hope you don't enjoy the library, You will be kicked out. He doesn't know how to whisper, He will ask you to tell him about the book you are reading and be questioning you in his normal voice which is pretty loud in a quiet library.

He will give you a confused look when you respond in a low voice, "What are you whispering for?"

Banned for a month.

He will give you his serving of desert for that whole month to make it up to you.

He will take you down to the lake and just bask around it with you. Maybe teach you how to skip rocks, Tell you stories his mother told him about creatures that used to live in waters. Until he saw you paying so close attention to his stories, The way your eyes never leave him and you nod along to it and ask questions when you were confused.

He would get flustered and immediately change the subject, "Look theres a--" He couldn't think of something so he would just gesture wildly to make your head snap towards wherever he was pointing.

He would swallow and gain his composure back as you would turn your head back with confusion on your face.

He would shrug, "You must've missed it."

Peter Pettigrew

He follows you like a shadow, It freaks you out sometimes. You just turn around and he'll be there.

He walks you to all of your classes even if you dont share them, His classes could be across the castle and he'll still make sure to walk you to yours.

You'll tell him, You would be fine walking by yourself for once and he'll immediately shake his head. "I have something to ask you.."

He'll use the walking you to class as the time to have weird or difficult conversations, Sometimes you would figure out he was asking for a prank or you'll find the thing at the foot of your bed and it'll click he was seeing what you would like as a gift.

He likes holding hands in the hall and eating and out in the courtyard-- There wasn't a place he didn't like to hold you.

The professors have to split you in the class or you'll be fused together.

You don't complain unless it's when he wont let you go to the bathroom in peace. You had to set a strong boundary about him not guarding the door while you went in. After many arguments, He finally got the message.

When hogwarts goes out and you have to send letters is torture to him!! His letters are filled with him talking about how he misses you so much and he wishes he could just be with you forever.

You reply with photos and sweet messages and he adores it.

The photos are above his bed.

And when the news of what happens that halloween night reaches your ears, It's a terrible night for you.

He didn't tell you he was a spy, You mourn him along with everybody else.

[fxlthyangxl-deactivated20240122]

website

[hesbythecampfire]

StopNCII.org is operated by the Revenge Porn Helpline which is part of SWGfL, a charity that believes that everyone should benefit from technology, free from harm. Founded in 2000, SWGfL works with a number of partners and stakeholders around the world to protect everyone online

Sounds legit

[songue85]

StopNCII.org is operated by the Revenge Porn Helpline which is part of SWGfL, a charity that believes that all should benefit from technolog

[nosferatusnoopy]

everyone reblog this!!

[luvsickbugs]

TEEN TITANS HEADCANONS

Characters: Robin x gn mime reader

Plot: You ain't a superhero and he is ?? (i can't think of a good description jsjddj)

Warnings: Nothing serious, Just some violence maybe will do the other teen titans/more of this. scary short headcanons.

Originally he thought you were working for the joker, You had your face painted-- You had a big heart painted on your face and there were two sparkly jewels one under each eye. Your eyelashes were white, One side of your mouth was painted in a smile and the other in a frown. (like this makeup)

He confronted you, of course with more force than he would other villains. He had you hung upside down, He was trying to get some of the other titans on the phone. The little circle phone they all used kept ringing. He glanced over at you, You were waving both of your hands by your shoulders.

He squinted his eyes at you, You hadn't made a peep since he caught you. He had even muttered "Finally someone thats just whelmed." when tying your ankles together as you just sat and watched him.

At closer look he realized you were doing the signs for clapping.

He walked towards you, He closed the phone with a snap. He glanced upwards at you once, Maybe it wasn't good to have someone that's just whelmed. This one seemed weird.

"What are you clapping for?"

You grinned at him, You pointed upwards towards your feet. His brows stayed furrowed, He didn't understand.. until you fell on him.

Well, He fell on his back, You landed on your feet.

One foot on each side of him.

You threw the rope that was supposed to be around your ankles in the air, You grinned and had your arms straight above your head. He half expected to see confetti fall around you.

And for just a moment, He was reminded of the circus. You looked you would fit perfectly there, The pose, The landing on the feet, The grin to the audience. He learned it all just so he could fly with his parents.

While he was drowned in his thoughts, You got the chance to walk away. He let you go and he just grabbed the rope.

Then he got his thoughts back and remembered you robbed a bank..

[wesandresons]

Goodbye Samira Mohan

[bullet-prooflove]

The Call: Brendon Park x Reader (NSFW)

Tagging: @kmc1989 @buckysteveloki-me @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @kawaiisludgeperson @afyreinjuly

Summary: Brendon decides to put a stop to David's calls once and for all.

Set After:

Scrunchies - Scrunchies… they’re the downfall of Brendon Park.

Love Games (NSFW) - Brendon and you love to play games, especially with each other.

An Exquisite Form of Torture (NSFW) - Brendon continues to turn up the heat as he holds you captive.

THAT Guy - Brendon is forced to face up to his feelings for you when he finds out your meeting up with an ex.

Seven Days - Seven days is far too long to go without you...

Save It - A thirty six hour shift leads to another admission about your relationship with Brendon.

Doctor Dick - Brendon's day takes a turn when Whitaker gives him some critical information.

A Manipulative Fuck - You and Brendon discuss what happened with your ex.

Prequel to:

Delete, Block, Rinse, Repeat - A series of cryptic messages force Brendon to confront a secret he's been keeping for almost a decade.

His Father's Son - Brendon reflects on the past as he debates taking that first sip of whiskey.

Three little words.

Brendon didn’t realise that they could be such a turn on, that they could steal his breath away, that they could change absolutely everything.

Before you his world was grey, his emotions locked down, his life carefully curated. Now it’s ablaze with colour and texture, with emotion and wildness because this woman, the one who riles him up, who challenges him, who makes him feel like he’s living again, she loves him.

He looks down at you splayed out underneath him. Head tipped back into the cushions of the couch, skin flush as his palm rests on your throat, squeezing just enough to make you see stars. Your Raven’s t-shirt is gone, disappeared over the side of the couch somewhere and he’s balls deep in that sweet pussy of yours, your thighs wrapped around his hips keeping him close.

Your phone lights up.

David again.

And Brendon, he’s done with this motherfucker.

His mouth covers yours as he reaches for the device, his cock hitting that sweet spot as his fingertips skirt over the screen accepting the call. You tighten around him, teetering on the edge and his palm slips down to your jaw, thumb chasing over your lips.

“Tell me.” He whispers, his eyes locked on the phone. “Tell me again how you feel about me.”

“You want to know how nobody’s ever fucked me as good as you do?” You tease as he starts to thrust again, chasing your pleasure. “That you’re the only man who’s ever made my heart race, who drives me completely crazy and ruins me at the same time.”

“You know what I really want.” He goads you, your breath turning to whimpers with every well-timed stroke. “I want to hear those three little words as you come on my cock. I want to know exactly why no other man can do this for you.”

You’re right there at the precipice, clenching around his dick and Brendon, he’s right there with you, teeth gritted together staving off his own orgasm.

“Brendon…” You cry out, your nails sinking into his skin, raking down his back. “Fuck… you know I love you… fuck…”

The climax overwhelms you, ecstasy bursting through your nerve endings like those fireworks on the Fourth of July. The rapture takes him, hips stuttering as white, hot cum coats your insides. He’s still buried deep when he picks up the phone, fucking his spent even deeper, watching as it leaks out around his cock as he holds it to his ear.

“Don’t call her again.” He tells your ex-fiancé, his thumb smearing his cum over your pussy. “She doesn’t fucking want you.”

He hangs up the phone, tossing it onto the coffee table and you stare at him with your hand alongside your mouth, trying not to laugh. “You’re fucking crazy.”

“Crazy doesn’t cut it.” He says, leaning over to capture your mouth again. His dick sinks back in and you arch against him, huffing out a desperate breath. “When it comes to loving you Rae, I’m completely unhinged. I’d fuck you up against the window if I thought he was outside watching.”

Your eyes sparkle, your pussy clenching and Brendon realises he might have just unlocked a brand-new kink.

“Next time.” He promises you, his lips brushing over yours as he begins to thrust. “Next time I’ll make sure all the world can see.”

Love Park the Shark? Don’t miss any of their stories by joining the taglist here.

Before you join the taglist make sure to read the rules here as you otherwise you won’t be added.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[bullet-prooflove]

A Manipulative Fuck: Brendon Park x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @buckysteveloki-me @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @kawaiisludgeperson @afyreinjuly

AN: Yes dear reader, he did order from the same Italian place he cancelled David's booking.

Summary: You and Brendon discuss what happened with your ex.

Set After:

Scrunchies - Scrunchies… they’re the downfall of Brendon Park.

Love Games (NSFW) - Brendon and you love to play games, especially with each other.

An Exquisite Form of Torture (NSFW) - Brendon continues to turn up the heat as he holds you captive.

THAT Guy - Brendon is forced to face up to his feelings for you when he finds out your meeting up with an ex.

Seven Days - Seven days is far too long to go without you...

Save It - A thirty six hour shift leads to another admission about your relationship with Brendon.

Doctor Dick - Brendon's day takes a turn when Whitaker gives him some critical information.

Prequel to:

Delete, Block, Rinse, Repeat - A series of cryptic messages force Brendon to confront a secret he's been keeping for almost a decade.

His Father's Son - Brendon reflects on the past as he debates taking that first sip of whiskey.

Your phone is blowing up.

Brendon can see it out of the corner of his eye as the two of you eat Chicken Alla Limone on his couch watching the Steelers struggle to hold the line without Trent Nathan.

“I can’t believe he broke his leg high off edibles, riding around on a fucking golfcart.” You say spearing a piece of chicken and putting into your mouth. “You guys are gonna have such a tough season now.”

“At least you’ll get to gloat about your beloved Ravens.” Brendon sets his plate down on the coffee table before picking up his bottle of water. Your phone lights up again, another missed call, another text. He clears his throat before angling his body towards you, his back pressing against the arm of the couch. “Are we gonna talk about why your ex is calling or are we just gonna pretend it’s not happening?”

“I find it interesting that you know he’s my ex considering I never told you that.” You lean back, placing your own plate on the side table behind you. “But I assume you worked it out with all that social media stalking you did when I was away.” You give him a shrewd look as you settle yourself into his couch cushions. “You liked a post from four years ago.”

Damn…

For a surgeon he has clumsy fucking thumbs.

Brendon sighs as he picks up your socked feet, guiding them into his lap. He grasps the right one in his hand, pressing the heel of his palm into the sole to alleviate some of the ache you must be feeling from another twelve-hour shift.

“I’m not proud of it.” Your body arches like a cat underneath his ministrations, a low purr erupting from low in your throat as he exerts just the right pressure.

“You think I haven’t stalked yours?” You ask him before jabbing him in the ribs with your left foot. “You’re basically a thirst trap.”

His fingers wrap around your ankle, returning your weapon of choice back to his lap. You have more to say he can tell, so he waits.

“He thinks we shared a moment at the conference.” You concede, sliding deeper into cushions.

“Did you?” Brendon asked, trying his damnedest to keep his voice devoid of emotion as he continues to massage your right foot. You throw your arm over your head and laugh and at first, he thinks it’s because he’s found a ticklish spot but then he realises you’re actually laughing at him.

“Look at you, trying to play it so fucking cool.” You respond, prodding him again with your toes. “We’ve been together a year Brendon, I can see you’re fucking foaming at the mouth.”

And this right here is the reason he fell in love with you. You cut through all his bullshit, you see the things that other people don’t.

“He tried to kiss me in Seattle.” You tell him, putting him out of his misery. “We had dinner with a couple of mutual friends, and I went outside onto the veranda to get some air. He seemed to think it was an invitation. It wasn’t… I was…” You sigh, placing your foot back into his lap. He picks it up, giving it the same treatment as the other by sinking his thumbs into the muscle. “I was trying to take a picture of the view for you. You said you’d never been to Seattle, and I thought you might want to see what it looked like all lit up at nighttime.”

He would have loved to see that picture. He probably would have packed a bag and hopped on a flight over there just so he could experience it with you the next night.

“He told me he’d accepted a job at Mercy, that he’d moved back to Pittsburgh. He wanted to try again, and obviously I told him that I wasn’t interested in that. I thought he got the message but then suddenly he’s the moonlighting physician in my hospital, my old coffee order is in his hand, and he’s telling me to put on something pretty because he’s taking me out tonight. Clearly, I have better things to do.” You gesture at Brendon and he can’t help but smile. You look so relaxed right now, all the worries of the day cast off your shoulders as you lay there on his couch in an oversized Ravens t-shirt, allowing him to take care of you.

“Was he bad to you?” He asks because he needs to know whether he’s kicking someone’s teeth in the next time he runs into that man. “When the two of you were together?”

“No, not bad.” You moan softly as his thumb digs into the pads of your foot. “David is very regimented, old fashioned. He likes routines and habits. It was book clubs on Thursdays, cello on Wednesdays, the same standing reservation at the same restaurant on weekends. It’s how he counterbalances working in the E.D. There’s so much you can’t control in there, so he exerts it in the other aspects of his life.”

“But not you?” His voice is sharp as he asks, an errant twang on a plucked guitar sting. “He didn’t try and control you?”

“Not in a traditional sense, it’s hard to explain.” Your brow furrows as you grasp for the words. “He’s not overbearing, it’s more subtle than that. Positive rewards for perceived good behaviour like coming home instead of going out after work, texts to see how my night was going when I was out with friends. An offer to pick me up but only at a time that would cut the night short. I know how it sounds…”

“It sounds like he’s a manipulative fuck.” Brendon responds, his palm settling on your ankle as he replays Whitaker’s words from earlier today.

You’ve always said that the kid was emotionally intelligent, Brendon just didn’t understand how much until this conversation. He had known there was something off with David, his questions, his assumptions. He’d picked up on the fact that man didn’t have your best interests at heart and come to Brendon because he knew that sometimes people don’t see how insidious it is, not when they’re in the thick of it.

He tunes back in because you’re talking again, sharing the rest of your story.

“When the fellowship came up at PTMC in Emergency Medicine, he didn’t want me to take it. I actually think that’s why he proposed to me, he wanted to change my mind, keep me close. A week after I agreed to marry him, I remember lying in bed, looking at that engagement ring and thinking, this is what the rest of my life is going to be if I don’t take that fellowship. It’s going to be some dull, laborious nightmare with missionary sex once a week and doggie style on special occasions. I ended things with him that morning, took the fellowship and he ran off to Philadelphia. I haven’t thought about him at all since then.”

“He clearly still thinks about you.” Brendon tips his head towards your phone which has continued to flash with messages throughout this entire conversation.

“That’s the thing, I don’t think it’s about me as a person.” You tell him, reaching out for the device and turning it face down. “I think it’s about being the one who got away, about him exerting control over something he didn’t see coming. It’s easier for him to reconcile it in his head if we end up back together than it is if I’m happy with someone else.”

“Did you tell him that?” Brendon asks you and you withdraw your feet from his lap.

You kneel up instead, your hands encompassing his face, tilting it up so he can look into your eyes. “This morning I told him that I was in love with a man who sets my blood on fire, that challenges me, takes care of me and lets me use his ridiculously expensive moisturizer without whining like a little bitch.”

“You did not.” He refutes, his hands coming to rest on your waist steadying you as your knees sink into the couch.

“I did.” You assure him, your nose trailing over his until your lips are barely apart. “That’s why he’s blowing up my phone, he thinks I’m lying to him because there can’t possibly be a man better for me than him.”

“You really told him that you love me?” He whispers, his mouth brushing over yours as his hand tangles in your hair.

“I did.” You confirm, kissing him. “Now this is the part where you say it back.”

Love Park the Shark? Don’t miss any of their stories by joining the taglist here.

Before you join the taglist make sure to read the rules here as you otherwise you won’t be added.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[bullet-prooflove]

Doctor Dick: Brendon Park x Reader (feat: Dennis Whitaker)

Tagging: @kmc1989 @buckysteveloki-me @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @kawaiisludgeperson @afyreinjuly

Summary: Brendon's day takes a turn when Whitaker gives him some critical information.

Set After:

Scrunchies - Scrunchies… they’re the downfall of Brendon Park.

Love Games (NSFW) - Brendon and you love to play games, especially with each other.

An Exquisite Form of Torture (NSFW) - Brendon continues to turn up the heat as he holds you captive.

THAT Guy - Brendon is forced to face up to his feelings for you when he finds out your meeting up with an ex.

Seven Days - Seven days is far too long to go without you...

Save It - A thirty six hour shift leads to another admission about your relationship with Brendon.

Prequel to:

Delete, Block, Rinse, Repeat - A series of cryptic messages force Brendon to confront a secret he's been keeping for almost a decade.

His Father's Son - Brendon reflects on the past as he debates taking that first sip of whiskey.

Brendon doesn’t register Whitaker’s presence, not until the second time the intern clears his throat. He’s reviewing the notes on sports star Trent Nathan’s shattered femur when the other man sidles up alongside him as if they’re the best of buds.

“What?” He snaps, his gaze still fixed on the chart in front of him as he weighs up the surgical implications. It’s a messy break, one of the worst he’s seen in a long time, which is why they’ve called him in on his day off.

He would much rather be tangled up in bed with you, discussing those three important words you were going to say last night. Instead, he’s creating a plan of action to put Humpty Dumpty back together again because the idiot took a bunch of edibles while playing golf and tipped over the stupid little cart he was driving. He’d be less pissed off if it was actually an athlete on one of your teams with the injury because he knows you’re just going to make the payoffs fucking unsufferable.

“I need to talk to you about something, and I don’t want to get my head ripped off.” Whitaker says with an uncharacteristic confidence. He’s got a bit of a sassy streak recently, something he’s wondering if he picked up from you. He quite enjoys watching him and the surly one he used to live with go at it.

“Spit it out.” Brendon says distractedly.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed but we’re a bit short handed down here today so Doctor Sullivan was called in.” Brendon’s gaze flickers up towards you in Central Six, he can see you through the glass listening attentively to a patient, making notes on the tablet in your hand.

“I am aware.” He states still irritated that you’re not in his bed, resting the way you should be. Twelve hours in between shifts isn’t long enough and he’s concerned you’re running on fumes. He’s tried talking to you about it but apparently you’re saving up for something, he hasn’t actually been able to ascertain what that is just yet.

“Are you also aware of who else got called in today?” Whitaker asks him, tilting his towards the breakroom.  “Doctor Roderick.”

“I have no idea who…”

But then it clicks… Dr David Roderick… your ex-fiancé. The one that took off to Philadelphia after you ended your engagement. Why the fuck is he even in this city, let alone in the fucking hospital?

“Apparently, he’s moved back Pittsburgh recently.” Whitaker informs him, leaning in close like the two of them are engaged in a conspiracy. “And he was asking me a lot of questions in the break room, like too many questions.”

“What kind of questions?” Brendon’s eyes narrow as he shoots a death glare through the wooden door. He wishes he could set it on fire, burn the man alive with that shitty dollar store coffee that management keep supplying.

“Like is Doctor Sullivan seeing anyone?” He looks pointedly at Brendon, who scowls. “Is her coffee order is still the same? Does she still like Italian? Then he took his phone out right in front of me and booked a reservation tonight at Alla Famiglia for two.” He places his palm on his chest. “And I know that place is pretty fucking romantic, like Doctor Robby treated both me and my wife to a meal there after we got married and…”

He trails off at the sight of the expression on Brendon’s face. His upper lip curled up into a snarl, his eyes ablaze with indignant rage.

Of course, he knows Alla Famiglia, he pays them a very tidy sum each month so that they’ll drop off food to his condo despite the fact they don’t actually run a delivery service. You love their Chicken Alla Limone and, on the nights, he doesn’t cook, he rings in an order to get your favourite dish because he loves the way it makes you smile when you take that first bite.

“I just wanted to let you know because if someone was making moves on my wife…” Whitaker sucks in a growl and Brendon thinks he might have really underestimated this kid, especially his loyalty. “I don’t know what is going on with you and Doctor Sullivan, but you seem to care about her. I mean I’ve seen you sneaking in those lunches in when you think no one’s looking. And that’s good, she deserves someone who cares.”

“You don’t think he cares?” Brendon asks, jerking his head towards the breakroom.

Whitaker shrugs his shoulders. “I think there’s a reason they’re not together anymore.”

Yeah, there must be, although Brendon doesn’t actually know what that is because technically the only reason he knows there is an ex-fiancé is due to him stalking your social media.

“Alright, you’ve been useful.” Brendon concedes, rapping his fingertips on the tablet in front of him with Trent’s notes on them. “I’m sure you’ve got patients to see, attendings to bother.”

Whitaker salutes as he takes off and Brendon makes a mental note to gift a little thank you to the intern. Him and Lola from the morgue are having a baby soon he recalls, maybe there’s a car seat they need or something.

The door to the breakroom opens and there he is, Doctor Dick in all his glory.

Not today motherfucker, Brendon thinks, getting out his phone to request that Alberto at Alla Famiglia cancels that reservation. I hope you fucking starve.

Love Park the Shark? Don’t miss any of their stories by joining the taglist here.

Before you join the taglist make sure to read the rules here as you otherwise you won’t be added.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[bullet-prooflove]

Save It: Brendon Park x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @buckysteveloki-me @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @kawaiisludgeperson @afyreinjuly

Summary: A thirty six hour shift leads to another admission about your relationship with Brendon.

Companion piece to:

Scrunchies - Scrunchies… they’re the downfall of Brendon Park.

Love Games (NSFW) - Brendon and you love to play games, especially with each other.

An Exquisite Form of Torture (NSFW) - Brendon continues to turn up the heat as he holds you captive.

THAT Guy - Brendon is forced to face up to his feelings for you when he finds out your meeting up with an ex.

Seven Days - Seven days is far too long to go without you...

Prequel to:

Delete, Block, Rinse, Repeat - A series of cryptic messages force Brendon to confront a secret he's been keeping for almost a decade.

His Father's Son - Brendon reflects on the past as he debates taking that first sip of whiskey.

Sex. It’s always the reason you end up at Brendon’s place.

Wild, uninhibited, ruining you for any other man kind of sex.

“Not tonight.” He tells you, cupping your face between his hands as he whispers the words against your lips. “No fucking tonight.”

It’s a relief in a way because you are bone achingly tired from what ended up being a 36-hour shift. You’d managed to catch a couple of catnaps, here or there but nothing beyond an hour or two.

He must have picked up on your exhaustion through the texts you’ve been exchanging because he’d picked you up this evening. You’d found his Porche 911 parked alongside your own car despite the fact he has his own designated space.

“You’re not in any fit state to drive.” He’d told you, holding the passenger door open. “My place is closer and has a memory foam mattress.”

Both were adequate selling points to a sleep deprived attending.

“This is the first time we’ve done this without sex.” You whisper as he undresses you in his bedroom. It doesn’t have the same hurried urgency it usually does, his touches are light, tender as he unbuttons your shirt, allowing it to flutter to the floor at your feet where your jeans are already in a heap by your ankles.

“I know.” He whispers, his nose nudging against yours as he drapes his Penguins t-shirt over you. The fabric is soft and cool, like a caress over your skin as it falls across your thighs. “We should definitely have more sleep overs.”

Something has changed between the two of you since you went away to that conference. Your relationship has shifted and if your honest, it has been for a while now. You just hadn’t wanted to acknowledge it in case you were misreading the signs, looking for something that wasn’t there.

But it is there, after his admittance back in the on-call room it’s impossible to deny that what started off as crazy hot sex has transformed into something akin to dating. You share meals, fight about whatever game is on the TV, you even check in on him because sometimes there’s a sadness in his gaze you can’t explain.

The holy shit, this is real moment came in a quiet hotel room, when you had him propped up on video chat and he snort laughed when you described something one of the lecturers said. That fucking noise had you falling to pieces, and you realised just how much you enjoy spending time with him.

In the shower afterwards you’d thought back over the past year and tried to identify when that man stopped being your workplace nemesis and became the guy who sneaks protein bars into your purse, and doubles up his lunches so you don’t starve in the E.R.

It’s impossible to pin down, because from day one you’ve always had his full attention, even when you were at each other’s throats.

“Brendon…I…” You search for the words but your brain stumbles over them. Now is probably not the best time to be having this conversation, not when your dog tired but it’s important that he understands you feel it too, even if you can’t articulate it. “I’m not seeing anyone else, I haven’t been for over a year now since we started… I just thought you should know that.”

The edges of his mouth tip up into a smile, his thumb trailing over your jaw as he looks into your eyes. You’d say you were falling for him in that moment, but the truth is you already had a long time ago, you were just too stubborn to admit it.

 “You’re too much of a handful for me to even think about anyone else.” His forehead comes to rest upon yours, his lips ghosting over the corner of your mouth. “That first night we were together… I knew…”

He doesn’t say the words but they remain sitting there between the two of you. You’d known too in your own way, known something monumental was happening, that your entire life was about to change.

“I want to say it.” You murmur, your fingers lacing at the nape of his neck as he walks you back towards the bed.

“Save it for me.” He requests, lying you down amongst his sheets. The mattress feels like heaven underneath you, the quilt like clouds as he tucks it around your exhausted form. “Save it for when you’ve had twelve hours of sleep and you aren’t running on adrenaline.”

“It won’t change my mind.” You mutter into the pillow, turning on your side as he climbs in behind you. His arm drapes around your waist, gathering you up against his chest. Your fingers entwine with his, guiding them up to the space where your heart beats underneath the fabric of the navy-blue Penguins t-shirt.

“We’ll see.” He tells you, his lips grazing over your ear as he buries his face into your hair. “If you wake up tomorrow feeling the same way, you can tell me then.”

Love Park the Shark? Don’t miss any of their stories by joining the taglist here.

Before you join the taglist make sure to read the rules here as you otherwise you won’t be added.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[bullet-prooflove]

An Exquisite Form of Torture: Brendon Park x Reader (NSFW)

Tagging: @kmc1989 @buckysteveloki-me @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @kawaiisludgeperson @afyreinjuly

AN: You should 100% read Love Games (NSFW) before reading this otherwise the beginning makes no sense.

Summary: Brendon continues to turn up the heat as he holds you captive.

Companion piece to:

Scrunchies - Scrunchies… they’re the downfall of Brendon Park.

Love Games (NSFW) - Brendon and you love to play games, especially with each other.

Prequel to:

THAT Guy - Brendon is forced to face up to his feelings for you when he finds out your meeting up with an ex.

Seven Days - Seven days is far too long to go without you...

Delete, Block, Rinse, Repeat - A series of cryptic messages force Brendon to confront a secret he's been keeping for almost a decade.

His Father's Son - Brendon reflects on the past as he debates taking that first sip of whiskey.

You’re on the cusp of coming again when Brendon returns to the bedroom after a snack and some electrolytes. That steady thrum of the vibrator is building you up, he can tell from your ragged breathes, the clench of your thighs around the wand that’s held in place against your clit with his belt.

The way you look at that moment, teetering on the edge, it’s beautiful. Your skin is flushed, your chest heaving and that whine… it sends a shot of adrenaline straight down to his dick as he strokes it lazily in the doorway.

“You know this is revenge, right?” He says, stepping towards the bed, his feet sinking into the plush grey carpet. “For what you did to me the other night.”

“You liked that.” You hiss through grinding teeth, your furious eyes fixed on his.  

He did like that. Handcuffed to the headboard, made to come over and over and over with your hand, your mouth, your pussy until he was a fucked-out mess in the sheets. He’s never been the focus of someone’s attention like that, he’s never been explored so meticulously, taken so thoroughly. You’d stripped away his entire ego, snatched away all of those burdens he carried and left just him, the man underneath it all. The one that craves connection so badly he’d almost begged you to stay the night. You had anyway, reading his needs the same way that he reads yours.

Underneath that bratty, bad girl attitude that turned up tonight is a woman that needs to be taken care of, who gives so much of herself that he’s scared that one day it might be too much.

“I really did enjoy the last time you had me at your mercy.” He admits, climbing onto the bed with you. His fingertips toy over the buttons on the vibrator as he props his head up so he can meet your gaze. “And I know that you like this too, giving up control. You work so damn hard baby, I know it’s tough letting someone else take over.”

His palm slaps over your mouth, your eyes widening in surprise, almost rolling back into your head when he increases the intensity of the vibrator. Your nostrils flare, your wrists jerking at the restraints as your muscles tense, that muffled cry screamed into his hand. Your thighs start to tremble, and he turns the wand off just before it all becomes too much.

You sink into the mattress, your eyelids fluttering closed as you try to catch your breath. He reaches down between you, unfastening the belt, tossing it and the vibrator over the edge of the bed. Your thighs part immediately but there’s no reprieve for you because he’s already between them, throwing your legs over his broad shoulders, forcing his face into those damp mesh panties. The scent of you fills his senses, his dick leaking into the mattress as his nose brushes over your clit. You whine, a ruinous sound pulled from somewhere deep in your chest as you try to squirm away, but his hands grip your hips, hurling you back against his mouth as he nuzzles that ripe little bud.

It’s an exquisite form of torture, and Brendon he learned from the best. The way you took him apart the other night was an artform and he endeavours to do the exact same thing to you.

Every drag of his tongue, every teasing kiss draws out your ecstasy, driving it to new heights as he explores your cunt through the mesh underwear, utilizing that friction. His fingers delve underneath the elastic of the leg hole, soaking them before he pulls the panties aside.

That first taste, it’s like nectar from the Gods, so fucking sweet in his mouth he just has to bury his tongue in you. You curse his name, head thrown back into the pillow as his thumb traces deviant circles on your clit.

His cock is dripping, wanton and desperate to get inside you but he holds his ground, chasing your pleasure like the hounds of hell are on his trail as he rushes towards his goal. You come with a gush against his face, thighs clamping around his head, back arching.

Underneath he can hear his neighbour, jabbing at the ceiling with a broom again but he honestly can’t bring himself to give a fuck.

You collapse back into the mattress, his filthy little minx overwrought and overstimulated from the pleasure he bestowed upon her. He wishes he could take a snapshot of this, keep it for all eternity but he knows from experience the damage that pictures can do. His palm roams over your navel, travelling up along your sternum before he presses down, keeping you pinned underneath him.

“One more.” He says, palming his cock, tapping the head of his dick against your swollen clit. “I’m going to untie you and then you’re going to give me one more.”

“I don’t think I can.” You whisper as you look at him, tears clinging to your lashes.

He remembers this part well, that feeling of being overwhelmed, of being on the boundary of giving yourself so completely to someone else.

“Yes, you can.” His firm body anchoring yours to the mattress as he reaches over you to unfasten your bindings. He frees your wrists from the black leather cuffs, and your hands are on him immediately, stroking over his back, drawing him closer as his head dips, kissing you. It’s tender this time, a vow that he’s got you, that you don’t need to be scared of letting him see this part of you. “We’ll do it together, it’ll feel so good sweetheart, I promise.”

His mouth seals over yours as he enters you, the tip slipping just inside, staying right there at the first inch. You flutter around him, nails raking up his back, breathing rough and uneven as your tears kiss his cheek. His hand captures yours, fingers entwining as he pushes slowly inside, his cock nudging against that sweet spot as he bottoms out. Your walls hug every part of him, so impossibly tight that the oxygen is forced from his lungs as he staves off the orgasm tingling in his balls.

“I could stay like this.” He mumbles into your mouth as he steals greedy kisses. “Keep us both right here on the edge.”

“You wouldn’t be so cruel.” Your voice is raw, the threads of your sanity melting away as your fingers dig into the space between his knuckles.

“No.” He whispers, looking into your eyes so you can see the truth in them. “Not with you.”

He rolls his hips, and his name rips from your throat, a desperate prayer that has him at heaven’s gate, the rapture flooding through his veins like a narcotic as you grip him so fucking hard, he sees stars. He erupts in hot, white spurts, claiming you for his own as his hips stutter with pulse after pulse of cum. His mouth covers yours, stealing messy, languid kisses as your thighs tighten around him, keeping him deep.

“This is what you needed isn’t it?” He murmurs, his lips chasing away the salt from the apple of your cheek. You don’t answer, and he understands that it’s too big in this moment, too much to put into words. Instead, you nestle even closer, tucking yourself in against his form.

“It’s alright.” His voice is full of reassurance as he buries his face in your hair, breathing you in. “It’s here whenever you need it, I’ll give it to you whenever you want.”

Love Park the Shark? Don’t miss any of their stories by joining the taglist here.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[bullet-prooflove]

His Father's Son: Brendon Park x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @buckysteveloki-me @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @kawaiisludgeperson @afyreinjuly

AN: Warning child death.

Summary: Brendon reflects on the past as he debates taking that first sip of whiskey.

Companion piece to:

Scrunchies - Scrunchies… they’re the downfall of Brendon Park.

Love Games (NSFW) - Brendon and you love to play games, especially with each other.

THAT Guy - Brendon is forced to face up to his feelings for you when he finds out your meeting up with an ex.

Seven Days - Seven days is far too long to go without you...

Delete, Block, Rinse, Repeat - A series of cryptic messages force Brendon to confront a secret he's been keeping for almost a decade.

Whiskey, it’s always been Brendon’s drug of choice.

Some people after they lose a child lose the will to live. They throw themselves off bridges, step under trains but not Brendon. He had fallen back into old habits, numbing the pain instead with his old friend Johnnie Walker.

In the years before his son’s arrival, he’d been a functional alcoholic.

At the time he would have said the life and soul of the party.

 A fuckboi, you would have called him.

If he’s honest with himself, he was a drunk outside of his work hours, scheduling his surgeries for late afternoons so he didn’t have to operate with a hangover.

He worked hard, played hard, fixing up professional athletes at a high-end sports clinic for astronomical fees. He was the best at what he did, focusing on minimally invasive techniques and fast rehabilitations. His spent his evenings in the club, his weekends at the types of parties only celebrities hear a whisper of, and his roster was filled with one-night stands he barely remembers, which incidentally was how his son Tobias was conceived.

He has absolutely no recollection of the puck bunny when she turns up at the clinic five months pregnant with his child, not until she shows him the pictures. Park the Shark, a nickname given to him by an NBA player whose fucked up ankle he fixed, was a messy son of a bitch, leaving a trail of shit that he’s spent years and thousands of dollars trying to eradicate from the internet. He demands a paternity test almost immediately and that kid… it turned out to be 100% his.

The moment he realised he was going to be someone’s father… his entire universe had been flipped upside down.

His own parents were a haphazard, shitty pair, both with addiction issues. It didn’t take a genius to see where his own had come from.

I’ll do better, he’d promised the sonagram on the fridge as his fingertips traced over the shape of his son. I’ll love you the way that I should have been loved.

He stops going to the parties, pours his booze down the sink, replaces his cravings with the gym. By the time his son is born, he’s four months sober, and rocking it.

The moment that little boy was placed in his arms, his entire life had changed. His world before Toby was closed off, dull and muted. Now it was cracking open, bursting with colour and vibrance as he stared down at the baby with his eyes and a pert, heart shaped mouth.

He ends up becoming the primary caregiver almost immediately. He half expected it when he had his lawyer draft up the custody agreement because Rowena’s interest wasn’t in how often he got to see his son, it was solely on the amount of child support she’d receive.

That was fine with Brendon. He taken the full paternity leave, doing night feeds with formula because Rowena wanted to get back on the bunny circuit. She was itching for a husband this time, and there were a couple of new rookies on the Penguins who were young, dumb and didn’t know any better.

By the time Toby is four, his mother has only seen him six times in his entire life. She vanishes the moment the kid starts to get upset at the fact a virtual stranger is trying to wrestle him into Gucci dungarees. Brendon tries to partition for full custody, but Rowena fights him on it because she wants to keep that child support money rolling in.  

He manages to balance out his work schedule with an elite daycare centre near the clinic, one that focuses on interactive and immersive learning. He picks his son up on the way home, making them both dinner before a bath, story time and bed. He adores the little life they have. The nights snuggled up on the couch watching Pixar movies, the days at the park playing on the swings, the nightlight he has in his own room because Toby likes to sneak into his bed since they’ve switched from a crib to a big boy mattress.

For the first time Brendon’s heart is full…

And then he gets that phone call, the one that feels like someone has reached inside his chest and torn his god damn heart out.  

There was an accident at daycare, a shoving match between two kids over a stuffed giraffe. Toby wasn’t even been involved, he’d been a bystander who’d caught an elbow, fallen back, hit his head on the corner of the table.

By the time Brendon gets to the hospital, his son is brain dead.

The only thing keeping him alive is the ventilator breathing for him.

He can’t explain the way he fractured in that moment, how the pieces of him shattered, crunching underfoot as he was faced with an impossible decision.

Turn off the ventilator and allow Toby to pass peacefully or keep him alive and watch his body start to deteriorate.

He spends two days trying to contact Rowena. The number he has for her isn’t in service, his Instagram messages go unread. There’s nothing he can do but sit in a hospital chair and watch his son wither away with every hour that goes by.  

By day three he can’t take it anymore. He can’t be this cruel to the person he loves the most in this world

He signs the paperwork and holds his son’s tiny hand as he passes away in the early hours of the morning. In the aftermath he sits there, staring at an empty bed as the steely haired nurse with the gold J in his ear arranges for his son’s body to be taken to the funeral home he’d recommended.

“They’ll take very good care of him.” He promises as he talks Brendon through the process of what happens next. He’s clutching SmuSmu in his hands, a stuffed shark they’d gotten at the aquarium because Toby had heard someone call him by his nickname and thought it was hilarious. “He’s in the best possible hands.”

The earnestness in that man’s voice…

Brendon truly believes him.

It’s two days before the funeral that Rowena finally gets in touch. The things she says, they’re vicious. He takes them on the chin like the man he is until she accuses him of ending Toby’s life intentionally to hurt her, to stop those child support payments that she needs to fund her lifestyle.

He hangs up on her then, texting her the funeral updates before he delves into the bottom of a bottle. She doesn’t attend and he doesn’t expect her to.

He’s loosening the tie around his throat when he steps off the elevator after the service, and finds two cops at his door. He’s forced to explain the circumstances of his sons’ death, that his mother, who has been absent his entire life is lashing out in her grief.

It gets worse after that, phone calls, texts, social media posts. All blaming him for Toby’s passing. He blocks her on everything, spends days locked in the home he built with his son, drinking, crying, punching walls until he breaks his hand.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.” His voice cracks as he tells this to Jesse, the same nurse that took care of his son. The other man is checking the IV in his arm, making sure it’s secure so that they can flush his system. He needs surgery on his hand, but his blood alcohol level is far too high to be considered anywhere near safe to go under the scalpel. “I don’t know how to live without him.”

“I’ve never lost a child, but from what I have learned from people who have… There’s no quick or easy way through it.” There’s a sadness in Jesse’s voice, one that comes with seeing far too much tragedy. Brendon gets it, the E.R, it’s not for the faint of heart. “Having support helps, we have a list of groups, I could get some of them for you?”

Brendon doesn’t speak, that emotion is welling up in his chest, his eyes stinging as he catches a glimpse of the family room across from the nurse’s station, the place where he’d been told his son was brain dead. Jesse pulls the curtain across when he catches his stare, severing the connection between the two spaces.

“Why don’t you tell me what he was like?” He offers, pulling up a chair and Brendon, he does, he tells him everything. From his son’s tinkling laugh, to the way he would shake his tiny butt to Shakira.

Jesse laughs and Brendon finds himself laughing too, then he’s crying again, apologising and that nurse… he’s the kindest man on this earth. He simply reaches over, squeezing his arm as he looks him right in the eye and says. “This is how you keep going. You remember the wonderful bright little boy he was. You keep that memory in your heart, think of it when you feel like you’re crashing out.”

And he does.

Everytime he considers picking up the bottle, he remembers Toby’s little hands leaving paint marks all over the coffee table, his voice singing Baby Shark as he pointed himself and then Brendon.

He stops drinking, hits a weekly grief meeting, quits the clinic.

He takes a job at PTMC instead, using his expertise to reattach limbs and restore mobility to folks who wouldn’t get that kind of treatment otherwise. That work… it fills his soul just a little, enough to make him feel like he’s making a difference.

After a year he moves into a new condo, one with better security because Rowena’s started up again, only this time she’s sending letters and making in person visits, screaming about what she’s owed.

“You’re looking good, better in yourself.” Jesse tells him when they run into each other in the E.R. He’s recently made the switch to PTMC after a bad break up, he also needs a change from Emergency Pediatrics,

“Yeah I am.” Brendon admits as they share a smoke together in the ambulance bay. “No one here knows…”

He doesn’t have to say anymore than that, he can see that Jesse gets it. He’s done everything he can to cultivate his reputation as a no-nonsense professional, despite the fact NBA player Marcus Brawn had swept in during a charity visit to the cancer ward and almost fucked the whole thing up for him by yelling ‘Park the Shark’ across the nurse’s station.

Unfortunately… the nickname had stuck.

It’s Jesse that he calls tonight as he’s sitting in front of that whiskey glass, itching to take that first sip. It’s him that physically pulls Brendon from the stool, who escorts him to a meeting, who calls Rowena and threatens legal action if she dares contact Brendon again.

It’s him that drops Brendon off at your apartment building, who reminds him if he’s serious about you, really fucking serious then you need to hear the truth from him before Rowena decides to blow up his life, because that woman, she’s seven shades of hateful and he does not believe for a single second that this is the end of it.

“Hi.” You say when you open the door, wearing a black t-shirt and pink pyjama shorts with ghosts on. Your hair is piled up on top of your head in a messy bun, held in place with a matching scrunchie. “I wasn’t expecting you tonight.”

“I know I…” He swallows hard against the lump in his throat, the one that feels like it’s about to damn near suffocate him. “I need to tell you something… it’s about me… I…”

His eyes start to burn, his heart palpitating his chest, his hands curl into trembling fists. You’re going to run he knows it, you’re going to say it’s too much, slam the door in his face and…

Your arms wrap around him instead, drawing his rigid form into the shelter of your body. He melts against you, burying his face into your hair, breathing you in. Your palms smooth over the contours of his back, rubbing light, soothing circles as he clutches you to him like a lifeline, like you’re the only thing keeping him tethered on this fucked up little planet.

 “It’s ok.” You say softly, your lips brushing over his cheek in a featherlight kiss. “Whatever it is you have to tell me, it’s going to be ok.”

Love Park the Shark? Don’t miss any of their stories by joining the taglist here.

Before you join the taglist make sure to read the rules here as you otherwise you won’t be added.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[abcdfghjklmpqrobin]

Au where nobody tells 10 year old Damian who Jason is. And the way they talk about him, Damian just assumes Jason is like a raccoon or something.

Damian: Grayson, why does Pennyworth leave food on the counter every night?

Dick, on his phone, not even paying attention: Oh, that's for Jason.

Damian: For 'Jason'?

Dick: Yeah. Sometimes he sneaks into the kitchen at night, so Alfred started leaving food out for him.

Damian, confused: I've never seen anyone here.

Dick: Well he doesn't always come. And last time, Bruce caught him crawling through the window and scared him away so, who knows when he'll show up again.

Damian, definitely thinking of a raccoon: So then Pennyworth is feeding a random stray that crawled out of God knows where?

Dick, annoyed: He's not a 'random stray', Damian, he's family, and he has been living in this house for way longer than you have.

Damian, trying to remember how long do raccoons live for:

Damian: I hope he doesn't die soon.

Dick: ????!!

*Later that night in the Bat-cave*

Tim, typing away in the computer:

Damian: Drake. Have you ever met Jason?

Tim: Uh. Stupid, annoying and looks like a skunk? Yes, why?

Damian, picturing a mix between a racoon and a skunk:

Damian: Is he friendly?

Tim: Well, the first time I met him, he attacked me, so...

Damian: Hmm... What did you do to provoke him?

Tim: What did I do to– Bitch–

Tim: Nothing! He just didn't like me taking 'what was his', or something.

Damian, nodding: You invaded his territory.

*The next day*

Damian: Father, when do you think Jason will visit again? I want to meet him.

Bruce: Um. I don't know, Damian. He doesn't come here often.

Damian: Why?

Bruce: Because he lives somewhere else.

Damian: Why doesn't he just live here with us instead? He would be safer.

Bruce, wincing: I don't think he would like that, Damian. He's not confortable here.

Damian: But, maybe if I befriend him I could convince him to stay.

Bruce, sighing: I don't think so, Damian. You have to respect his space.

Damian: Oh...

Damian: I hope he doesn't get rabies

Bruce: ???!!

[luvsickbugs]

'i hope he doesn't get rabies' 😭😭😭

[bullet-prooflove]

Seven Days: Brendon Park x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @buckysteveloki-me @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @kawaiisludgeperson @afyreinjuly

Summary: Seven days is far to long to go without you...

Companion piece to:

Scrunchies - Scrunchies… they’re the downfall of Brendon Park.

Love Games (NSFW) - Brendon and you love to play games, especially with each other.

THAT Guy - Brendon is forced to face up to his feelings for you when he finds out your meeting up with an ex.

Prequel to:

Delete, Block, Rinse, Repeat - A series of cryptic messages force Brendon to confront a secret he's been keeping for almost a decade.

It’s been seven days.

Seven days since Brendon’s had you in his bed.

Seven days since he’s actually been able to touch you.

You’d come back from that conference in Seattle and dived straight into a series of night shifts, covering for Shen while he’s on his honeymoon. Which means when Brendon’s clocking off, you’re clocking on with the exception of today because you’re working a double. All he’s seen of you throughout this entire time is a navy blue scrunchie disappearing behind a curtain as you take on yet another patient.

It’s driving him fucking crazy.

When he steps off the elevator into the E.R. it isn’t because he needs to be here. He doesn’t NEED to check in with the patient with the arm break he can fix in his sleep, the same way he doesn’t NEED to ask Mohan where the bane of his existence aka the love of his life is currently squirreled away.

Yeah, he’s decided he’s owning that now.

Seven days apart will do that to a man. It will have him questioning his sanity as he deletes all the other girls he’s fucked in the past from his phone.

Hook ups, booty calls, scrub bunnies, all of them gone.

“She said she’s gonna grab a couple of hours of shut eye in the on-call room before transitioning onto the nightshift.” Mohan tells him bewildered by his presence as he finishes up examining that break that doesn’t actually require his attention. “Enter at your own risk though, she gets super cranky when she’s woken up.”

He knows, he’s had to deal with the grumpy morning version of you whenever he heads out for the gym before six am on your days off. It’s usually pacified with pasties and the best oral sex you’ve ever had in your life, at least that’s what the complaints from the downstairs neighbour tell him.

You’ve just stripped off your scrub top when he pushes his way through the door into the on-call room. It’s not much more than a windowless room with single bed. The sheets are freshly laundered and someone, Abbot he suspects, has placed a Himalayan salt lamp on the nightstand. It casts a warm, peachy glow throughout the room, creating a soothing ambiance as you glance at him over your shoulder, clad in a black sports bra he has peeled off you many times.

You pause folding your tunic as his arms wrap around you, gathering you up close. The way you fit against him… Christ, it’s perfect. He buries his face into the curve of your throat, the tension bleeding out of his body as he breathes you in.

“You’ve missed me.” He can hear the tiredness in your voice underneath the teasing. These shifts, they’re not good for you. He wishes he could just sweep you off your feet, carry you home and have you sleep the next twelve hours away on his memory foam mattress.

“Your ass maybe.” His breath ghosts in your ear as you lean back against him. “And you know, you have great tits… Did you miss me?”

He’s trying not to be needy, to show all of his cards but it’s getting hard to keep them all in order, to not send them skittering across the table in a messy jumble of feelings.

“I missed a part of you.” You murmur, your hips fitting snuggly against the cradle of his own.

You thread your fingers through his, guiding his hand towards the waistband of your scrubs. He growls into your ear, a ferocious desperate sound as his fingers hook in the elastic, dragging them lower. He gets them halfway down your thighs before the door behind him clicks open.

“Doctor Sutton, I just need…” Whitaker’s voice falters as Brendon’s head jerks towards him, a snarl twisting at his lips.

“Get. The. Fuck. Out.” The words are almost violent, harshly punctuated as he tugs your scrubs back over your hips, covering you up from preying eyes.

“Sorry, sorry, I just-”

Brendon does not fucking care. He practically back kicks the door shut into to the R1’s face.

“Fuck.” You drawl out the word, snatching up the tunic of your scrubs from where it’s fallen onto the bed and pulling it on. “I have to go fix that. I should have known better than to-”

“No.” Brendon sighs pinching the space between his brow with his forefingers. “I shouldn’t have followed you in here, I should have just waited.”

This has the potential to be a catastrophe, not for him but for you. If this gets out that the two of you were almost fucking in the on-call room, he’ll get a slap on the wrist, and an atta boy. You… you’re looking at a suspension at least.

“I’ll talk to him. He’s a good kid, he’s not looking to blow up anyone’s spot.” You straighten your scrubs and once again Brendon can see the exhaustion in your features. You’re running yourself into the ground, burning out. It’s part of the reason he wanted to check in with you, because he knows where this leads, he’s been here before. He wanted to make sure you weren’t heading down the same path, that you were actually giving yourself time to rest. “You better head back upstairs before they start wondering where their moneymaker’s gone.”

It’s not meant to be a dig but the words, they settle like a barb underneath his skin. They’re a reminder that as important as you are to him, the two of you are in two completely different worlds when it comes to status in this hospital.

“Rae.” He says and you pause in the doorway, your hand grasping the handle. “I did miss you, you know? This wasn’t about the sex, it was about you, about wanting to see you…”

It’s important that he says that, that you know he wasn’t trying to solicit a hook up. He just wanted a moment with you, a few seconds to reconnect before he returned to a quiet empty condo later this evening.

“I know.” The edges of your mouth tip up into a fond smile. “Despite what I said it wasn’t just your dick I missed. It was you Brendon, I missed you.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[invincibledc]

#FUCK GOLD, I WANT PLATINUM

03'ROBIN X SELINA’S PROTEGE!M!READER

🐈‍⬛PLOT: a simple swift black cat who caught the attention of a handsome Robin who can’t help but put his hands on the slick cat.

🐈‍⬛INFO: reader and Robin are the Batcat of jumpcity and of this story. That’s all I can say as of now since I wrote this at 10 pm on a Sunday night about to go to sleep for school…

🐈‍⬛GENRE: short story/drabble

WC: 402

You purred lowly at the fellow boy wonder who seemed to have his eyes locked onto your figure.

“Well hello, birdy. Whatever did I bring you to come and interrupt my looting?” you questioned.

A slick smile on your face as you donned a nice pearl necklace over your tight black suit. You had thrown on what is similar to your idol, which is Catwoman. Except more “manly” you presume.

“You know why I'm here, Catboy,” Robin says with gritted teeth. He hated how he wanted to kiss that smug grin off your face. He hated how cute your purrs were.

He hated how he found you attractive.

He hated how you were his enemy.

“Oh, really? Is it cause you missed the thrill of chasing me? Or just me instead.” You said bluntly. It wasn’t a lie that you also wanted to see him.

He’s cute and handsome.

You dropped down from the pile of money, landing on your feet like a cat as you walked to him deathly slow. Your eyes low as Robin help back a swallow of his saliva down his throat.

“Why so stiff Birdy? I ain’t gon' hurt you bad.” You said softly, wrapping your arms around his neck as you purred. Rubbing your face against his neck.

Just like a cat marking their territory.

Robin felt his face flush as his body controlled his mind. His arms wrap around your waist.

It felt… normal.

Oddly normal.

Like it was made to be placed there.

You glanced up with your chic eyes, smiling at how he was so hypnotized by your presence so easily.

“You’re so cute.” You whispered, cupping his face as his breath started to become labored.

He couldn’t say anything. Nothing.

It only made you crave him more.

You leaned close, closing your eyes as Robin started to follow your lead and close his eyes.

As your lips were close, you pushed Robin back.

Robin grunted and opened his eyes, eyes widened at you waving his belt that held all his stuff for emergencies and missions.

“Next time, Birdy. You can get your award if you don’t interfere with my looting, darlin'.” You said with a purr as you rushed off with adrenaline knowing that he would give chase for you.

And you were right when he screamed your name and chased after you.

Oh, how the bird always chases the kitty cat.

[ghostpainters]

1980's inspired Teen Titans

Here's some fun Teen Titans redesigns I did for the heck of it. I'm still working on Blackfire, and I am hoping to get around to some of the others. I know the roster of characters I have right now doesn't make any particular type of sense. But I just started drawing the characters that I like to draw and let it grow from there :)

[bullet-prooflove]

Delete, Block, Rinse, Repeat: Brendon Park x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @kawaiisludgeperson @mayemperess @reids-girl31699 @luvsickbugs

Summary: A series of cryptic messages force Brendon to confront a secret he's been keeping for almost a decade.

Companion piece to:

Scrunchies - Scrunchies… they’re the downfall of Brendon Park.

Love Games (NSFW) - Brendon and you love to play games, especially with each other.

THAT Guy - Brendon is forced to face up to his feelings for you when he finds out your meeting up with an ex.

Blackmail, it’s not for the faint of heart.

Brendon learns that when the first image appears on his phone accompanied by an unknown number and a message that reads:

Does she know the truth about you?

The picture is of the two of you in the doorway of his apartment building, your fingers curled into the lapels of his jacket, your face tilted up as he leans in close to kiss you. It gets a little NSFW after that, his hands roaming up your skirt, your fingers on his belt buckle. He pulls you inside before it gets X-rated, away from the camera but the rest of the night plays out in his mind.

Going down on you in the penthouse elevator, your panties grasped in his hand, wrapped around his cock as he jerked off into them.

He deletes the message, blocks the number.

But when he gets out of surgery hours later, there’s another picture waiting for him, another message typed out.

Him leaving a church this time, his hands tucked into his jacket, his head bowed as he focuses on the wet steps underneath him.

Does she know where you go every Thursday?

Delete, block, rinse, repeat.

He’s at a bar when the next one comes, staring at the liquor bottles that line the back wall, nursing a coke. He does this sometimes, tests himself. It reminds him that he’s strong, that he has the power to control himself.

An image flashes up on his screen, one that punches the air right out of his lungs as the little boy stares back at him.

Does she know you killed him?

He raises his hand, signalling to the bartender for a whiskey, his first in almost seven years.

Does she know you murdered your own son?

Love Park the Shark? Don’t miss any of their stories by joining the taglist here.

Before you join the taglist make sure to read the rules here as you otherwise you won’t be added.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[bullet-prooflove]

THAT Guy: Brendon Park x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @kawaiisludgeperson @mayemperess @reids-girl31699 @luvsickbugs

Summary: Brendon is forced to face up to his feelings for you when he finds out you're meeting up with an ex.

Companion piece to:

Scrunchies - Scrunchies… they’re the downfall of Brendon Park.

Love Games (NSFW) - Brendon and you love to play games, especially with each other.

Brendon is in a mood.

He’s been in a mood ever since you left in an Uber this morning, a suitcase in tow to catch your flight to Seattle. There’s a medical conference out there, something that he wasn’t invited to because it’s formulated specifically around the challenges facing emergency room physicians. You’re excited because you get to learn some new shit and catch up with some old friends… including David, the man you used to be engaged to.

You haven’t told him about that, he only knows because he’s spent a couple of evenings stalking your social media, scrolling through the highlights of your life.

Birthdays, Christmas, weddings.

He got to know all the major players in your circle.

Including David, who is now woefully single after breaking up with his girlfriend of two years.

The timing of that… it doesn’t quite sit right with Brendon, which is why he’s manically flicking through the conference social media channels hoping to catch a glimpse of you and get a read on the situation.

The thing is, he’s not THAT guy. He’s usually hit it and quit it.

But with you… he’s becoming THAT guy.

Your absence forces him to examine his behaviour when he’s putting himself through his paces at the gym. It’s a brutal, punishing work out that leaves his hip aching by the time he thrusts himself into the shower. He places his palms on the cool tile, the water pounding onto the back of his neck as he closes his eyes and focuses on the sensation.

You aren’t in love with her. She’s a just fuck buddy, a hook up, a booty call.

That’s what he tells himself… but he knows that isn’t true.

He wouldn’t miss you on the nights you don’t stay over, he wouldn’t have cleared out a drawer for your stuff to live in, he wouldn’t be fucking worried about some asshole with a Captain America smile, swinging in to sweep you off your feet again.

Christ, he fucking hates this.

His phone is ringing when he steps out of the bathroom. He rolls his eyes, grasping for it as Sisqo’s Thong Song taunts him from the nightstand. He has no idea how you figured out his passcode, only that you like to change his ringtone to the most obnoxious shit you can think of. He still hasn’t lived down the WAP incident.

He misses the call by a second, your name disappearing before he can hit the button. He growls in frustration but then that message pops up, the one that lets him know that he has absolutely nothing to worry about because you’re still thinking about him even though you’re spending the entire conference with David.

It’s a picture of you in his Steelers t-shirt, with a pair of hot pink panties underneath. In your hand is that wand you love so much, it’s twin sitting in the bottom drawer of his nightstand.

“Are you going to pick up the phone?” The message reads. “Or am I going to have to get myself off?”

Love Park the Shark? Don’t miss any of their stories by joining the taglist here.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee