Tora | 28 | She/They | Bi | Hodge-Podge Blog™️

“This is Dr. Michael Robinavitch, I am the chief of emergency medicine at PTMC. If you fire her, she will sue you, and I will testify on her behalf.” — “Don’t worry, we got you.”

[notyetraised-fromperdition]

I Can't Do Nights

Title: I Can't Do Nights Pairing: jack abbot x r4!reader Summary: Jack wants to spend a night with you for the first time. You tell Jack why you "can't do nights." Jack shows you why you can. CW: mentions of sleep apnea (central or obstructive you decide); mentions of behavioral health patients and scenarios from my work in the er; unspecified, possible age gap if you want; pretty blank slate reader; no angst, all fluff Word Count: 2196

“I can’t do nights.” You cringe internally at the slightest wobble in your tone.

Jack raises an eyebrow. “Technically, it’s daytime.”

You roll your eyes, leaning on the counter as you put in orders for your most recent patient. “You know what I mean.”

With his typical smirk, Jack retorts, “I don’t think I do, actually.” 

You sigh and look around, trying to be discreet. “Can we… talk about this later? We only have like an hour until handoff.”

Jack leans on the opposite side of the counter and lets his fingers inconspicuously drift along your hand holding the tablet. “Of course, I’ll talk to you in a bit,” and off he saunters away to his next patient.

Next to you, Ellis prods, “What’s that about?”

“He wants me to sleep over.” You keep your eyes trained on the tablet. Ellis notices your brows furrow in concentration. 

“And you don’t want to?” Ellis raises an eyebrow in disbelief. The ED almost threw a celebration when you and Jack went public three months ago after watching the two of you pine for the six months prior. 

“No, I do.” You really do.

“So what’s the problem?”

“I can’t do nights,” you repeat, biting on the inside of your cheek. What was that theory of pain, Gate Control? The theory that causing pain can distract from other, often more severe, pain? Your inability to do nights was painful. You wanted to lay next to — no, ON — that man so badly it physically hurt. 

“That explains nothing.” Ellis pushes the tablet down onto the counter, grabbing your direct attention.

“This stays between us, got it?” Ellis chuckles at the finger pointed in her face. 

“Got it.”

“I…  I snore,” you say under your breath and shield your eyes from public view.

“... That’s it? It’s probably cute.” Ellis shrugs and tilts her head. 

“No, like, I snore-snore. I go to bed looking like a fighter pilot because I can’t protect my airways when I sleep.”

“Oh, sleep apnea? You have a CPAP,” Ellis states casually as horror washes over your features. 

“Could you be any louder?” You whisper shout. “Yes, and it does not bode well for sleep overs at my own place, let alone his place. I have to travel with fucking durable medical equipment.”

“I’m assuming you haven’t told him.”

“Of course I haven’t. He still sees me as cute, pretty, maybe even sexy at times. I’d like to keep it that way.”

“This sounds like a bite the bullet, come to Jesus moment if you ask me. Either he’s gonna be able to hang with the CPAP or he won’t. You’ll find out sooner or later no matter what if you want to keep seeing him seriously.”

“I know it’s just… it’s going really well and I want it to keep going well.”

“Well, don’t count him out so soon. Dr. Abbot has dealt with worse than a smart and pretty lady with a breathing disorder.”

You let out a big breath, straighten your shoulders, and pick up the tablet again. “Speaking of breathing disorders, I need to ask Lena to get the patient in Central 10 a sitter. My guy’s knocked out on 10 and 2 and can’t be in B1 or 2 because we need to monitor his SATs continuously. And he can’t have a CPAP because he's a behavioral health patient unless he has a sitter.”

“Sounds like fun. At least it isn’t you in there, otherwise your mister would know your secret far too soon.”

***

“... lastly Central 10, Mr. Sanchez, 57, came in actively psychotic with command hallucinations and persecutory delusions, exhibited extreme agitation, received 10 of Zyprexa, 2 of Ativan. Upon sedation was unable to maintain an airway, moved from BH to medical to monitor SATs and receive CPAP, has a sitter. Otherwise medically stable. Awaiting CIS and psych consult. Expecting admit to psych.” You plop the tablet into Samira’s incredibly capable hands and shoot some snazzy finger guns on your way out.

“Have a good night!” She calls out.

“Technically it’s daytime!” Jack repeats to Samira and he falls in line beside you as you walk to the lockers. You let out a huff and shake your head as you shrug out of your scrub top, leaving you in your long sleeve undershirt. Quickly changing into some sweats, you then grab your jacket and backpack. “Ready?” Jack asks.

You nod and steel yourself for the conversation you know is coming. As the two of you approach your car, Jack leans against the driver’s side hood of your car while you toss your things into the front seat. “I guess it’s later now, huh?”

Jack nods and shoves his hands into his hoodie pockets. “Yeah, unless you’re able to magically do nights now.”

“No, no I’m not. I wish I could though.” You sigh and cross your arms, leaning against your closed driver’s side door. 

“Are you open to sharing with me any particular reason why? It’s okay if you don’t want to spend the night.” Jack looks down at his feet and back up at you.

“The thing is, I do want to. I want to spend all of my free time with you, awake and asleep. It’s just… how do you feel about medical devices?”

Jack raises an eyebrow and responds rather incredulously, “Sweetheart, I have a fake leg. I’m all for medical devices. Give me all of the medical devices.”

You feel your face get warm. “No, I mean- You can take that off at night, how do you feel about a medical device in the bed?”

“What are you getting at? Is this a sex thing? I’ll try almost anything once.”

“No!” You cover your face with your hands. “IhavesleepapneasoIeithersnoreorIhaveawholethingwhenIsleep,” You mumble quickly.

You feel Jack’s hands around your wrists, gently pulling your hands from your face. “I’m gonna need you to repeat that a lot slower. I’m old.”

You take a deep breath. “I have sleep apnea. I snore. I have a CPAP. It’s not good for sleepovers.”

“I’ll just come over to your place then.”

“No- I,” You stop short and lean forward to rest your forehead on Jack’s shoulder. You can feel Jack begin to adjust so he can look at you. You extract your wrists from his hands and hold the sides of his face, keeping your own hidden. “If you want to hear it, I cannot be looked at. I cannot be perceived.”

You feel him nod and press a kiss to the top of your head, his hands resting on your waist. “Okay.”

“I don’t want you to see me wearing the mask. It’s not cute.”

Silence.

“And if I don’t wear the mask, I snore so badly. Also not cute.”

More silence. Then his voice, “You know what is cute?” You feel him lift your head to meet his eyes. “You, breathing. You, suffocating? Not so cute.” His signature smirk begins forming.

You narrow your eyes. “Don’t laugh. Asshole.” You begin to pull away and he guides you back to him.

“No, baby, I’m not laughing. I do think you in a CPAP is a bit humorous, but in the way a tiny chihuahua looks cute and silly in a puffy sweater.” He cradles your face in his palms and you feel the flush on your cheeks flare again. “And if you fall asleep without it on, I’ll wake you up. Soon enough, I’ll learn how you like it and put it on for you.” You pout your lips, contemplating, and Jack continues, “Also I knew.” 

Your eyes widen, “What? Knew what? No, you didn’t.” No, he didn’t. Dear whoever is up above, please-

“That you snore. You can’t stay awake through a movie or TV show after a shift to save your life.”

Is this a panic attack? You’re having a panic attack. You’re dying. Maybe? It’s the apocalypse, that’s what this is. You hope it’s the apocalypse. “No, nonono-”

“You sleep talk, too. You normally wake up after an hour or two and don’t remember that you ever fell asleep. And then you go home, or I go home.”

“Oh my god, we have to break up now.”

“Hey, shh. I never said anything because I figured you’d tell me when you wanted to. Honestly, I think snoring would be a weird deal breaker. Pretty sure I’ve napped and snored in front of you and when I wake up you just look at me all googly-eyed.”

“Yeah, but you’re old! That’s expected.”

“Ouch,” Jack chuckles. “It was a joke when I said it, thank you very much.” You settle into his hold more firmly and take a deep breath. Jack rests his head on top of yours. 

“My place?” You question quietly.

“Your place, let’s go,” Jack smiles and opens your driver’s side door for you before going around to the passenger side.

***

Back at home, you feel your muscles relax as Jack slowly rubs his thumbs into the base of your neck as you pat your face dry with a towel. He looks delectable in his gray sweatpants, topless. He places a quick kiss on your shoulder and he moves to grab his toothbrush. You finish your skin scare as Jack wraps up brushing his teeth. He gives his face a quick scrub and you collect a bit of moisturizer on your fingertips. As Jack turns to you, you gently spread the moisturizer on his face and down his neck.

You take an extra moment to admire the lines by his eyes, the shape of his lips. You lean up to press a quick peck to his lips. The corner of his lips tilt up as Jack returns a contented smile towards you. Despite not having spent an actual night (day) together, the two of you often wind down after work side by side – hence, your apparent napping and snoring in front of Jack, unbeknownst to you. 

The two of you make your way to your bed. Jack settles onto the side of the bed opposite your CPAP machine. He is able to make himself comfortable rather quickly, taking his prosthetic off and covering his legs under the covers, when he notices you still sitting on the edge of the bed. He extends a hand to you. “Come here.”

You lean towards him and let yourself find a place in his arms, your head resting on the comfortable curve of his shoulder. You take a deep breath and close your eyes. “I wish I could just fall asleep here. And stay asleep.”

Jack tightens his hold on you. “Do you think I’d let a mask and a tube come between us sleeping comfortably together? I’ve slept in warzones. Some air and textures do not surpass any desire I have to be with you.”

“Those are some fighting words, Jack. Romantic, even.” Your fingers drift along the skin of his chest.

“I am the most romantic man you have ever met. That’s on purpose. I plan on keeping you.”

Your heart pounds. “You’re a quick decision maker. Makes sense why you went into emergency medicine.”

“Quick decision? We’ve only been together three months, but I’ve wanted you for nine months. But yes, I planned on keeping you around six weeks in.”

You press a kiss to his chest and feel sleep tugging at you. “Mmm, that’s nice. I’m gonna keep you, too.”

***

You wake to your alarm at around six in the evening, in relatively the same position, but your mask is on your face and you feel fully rested. Jack is still on his back and his arms are still around you. You slip your mask off and pat any excess condensation off your face with your hands. Confusion rattles around your slow to wake brain. 

Jack stirs and awakens when he feels your movements. “Morning, sweetheart.” His voice is even more gravelled with sleep. “What’re you thinking about?”

“I don’t remember putting my mask on?”

“You didn’t. I did.” Jack rubs his eyes with the hand that isn’t still wrapped under you.

“How– When?” Despite being rested, your brain still needs time to get up to speed. Jack is apparently always at the ready.

“I have a medical degree. I was able to figure out how it clasps and get it sealed.” Jack rolls over a bit, pushing you back on the pillows, and gives you a solid good morning kiss. 

“Mm, that’s actually really sexy,” You mumble into the kiss. You run your hands along his arms that prop him above you.

Jack pulls away and smirks, running the fingers of one hand along the indentations on your face, “You’re actually really sexy when you’re well rested. Told you I’d be all good with the CPAP. I get why you were nervous and I’m glad you trusted me. ”

“I did sleep really well. Thank you for taking care of me. You slept okay?”

Jack’s smirk turns into a gentle smile, “Best sleep I’ve had in a long time. It’s a good thing you plan on keeping me, cause you are shit out of luck if you think I’m spending another night without you next to me.”

***

NO AI TRAINING: Without in any way limiting the author’s exclusive rights under copyright, any use of this writing to “train” generative artificial intelligence (AI) technologies to generate text is expressly prohibited.

[starlord-s]

the betting pool goes crazy when you create an instagram highlight that just says:

j

javadi is the first to notice, her chronically online self, and when she flicks through the photos it’s clear that you’re soft launching a man. the back of his white t shirt as you walk down the street, your hand holding his across a table during a romantic dinner, your smiling face as you hold a gorgeous bouquet of roses. whoever this mystery man is, he’s soon to be instagram official.

all it takes is an offhand comment from javadi to whitaker for it to spread around the ED. because of course she should’ve known that whitaker would tell santos, who then tells mckay, who then tells langdon, who then tells mel and so on and so forth until it even reaches robby.

all he can do is smile because he knows you’ve been dating jack for a while now. the two of you came to dinner with him and noelle only a few days ago. he doesn’t bother to join the betting pool ahmad sets up; he doesn’t think it would be fair to rinse his poor residents for all they’re worth.

it goes on for a few more months. your coworkers try to get it out of you, to expose the mystery man who clearly has you smitten, but they repeatedly fail.

it slips out one day on shift. it’s rare you work with jack, being a day shifter and all, but your shift has overrun by about four hours and you’re not going to get to go home anytime soon. a mass casualty means the ED is lined with injured people, and handoff will not be happening tonight in this all hands on deck situation.

you’re working on a patient and you go to grab more supplies, when you collide with a firm body.

“easy, honey.” abbot places his hands on your shoulders to steady you.

there it is. honey.

javadi overhears and it clicks in her brain. she doesn’t have the time to dwell on it due to the circumstances, but she smiles softly to herself. she might not have won the bet, but she knows shen is going to be very pleased with himself.

“are you okay?” jack asks you softly, making the time in the busy nature of the ED to check on you.

“yeah, sorry,” you respond. “wasn’t watching where i was going. i’m good.”

“you got this,” he says gently, squeezing your shoulder. “see you on the other side.”

javadi watches as you admire jack working on a patient, a lovestruck smile on your face. she turns away, feeling like an intruder, but her own smile only grows.

after the shift from hell, you’re in jack’s bed and missing him terribly. he stayed for the rest of his shift, and part of you wishes he could be here to comfort you after the day you’ve had. but he’s a night shifter at heart, and you knew that when you got into this.

so you do the one thing that will bring you comfort: you scroll through your folder dedicated to photos of your relationship. when you stumble across one from the early days, you smile to yourself.

you’d only been dating for a few weeks and he’d taken you to a flower market. you’d commented on how handsome he looked, and shyly asked him if you could take a photo of him. in the photo, he’s holding your outstretched hand and beaming into the camera, sunglasses hiding his soft eyes.

you pull up the instagram app and add the photo to your highlight, the words my j positioned just above his shoulder.

your phone is immediately flooded with texts.

trinity: holy shit!!!! call me right now!!!!

dennis: happy for the two of you x

yolanda: no fucking way have you locked down jack abbot

cassie: i should have known! love looks good on you, lady!

emma: ahhhhh! the hard launch!

john: i fucking knew it

but it’s the one from javadi that makes you smile the most.

victoria: i want what you guys have

[controversiallyyoungergf]

Thinking about sucking Ellis’ strap…

18+ smut drabble below | MDNI

“Just relax your throat… there you go mama, that’s it,” the woman above you praises, hand gently brushing a fallen strand of hair out of your face.

You’re a sight for sore eyes—hair tussled, mascara ruined, lips swollen from how long you’ve been like this—sucking the purple strap seated above your girlfriend’s pelvis.

You gag as she presses down on the back of your head, forcing the silicone further down your throat.

“Shhh… you can take it. Atta girl,” Parker praises, letting you up after a moment for air. “Doing so good for me, sweet girl. Making me so proud.”

The praise goes straight to your core, thighs rubbing together as you seek some much needed friction. It’s embarrassing how choking on your girlfriend’s dick has you soaked. And the worst part? Ellis knows it. A smirk crosses her face as she watches the subtle, but unmistakable movement.

“Getting needy for me?” she coos mockingly. “Alright, come on up; come ride this dick. Show me how badly you need it.”

A/N: Please send in requests for what else you wanna see! I expect to hear your dirtiest most unhinged thoughts <3

[domesticblisss]

fuck…

[controversiallyyoungergf]

CW: no actual smut, but mention of it at the end.

sugar daddy!abbot who first offers to help out with your electric bill when you’re rambling about how stressed you are from student loans and rent, barely making enough to cover any of your living expenses. “I’ll pay for it,” he says casually.

sugar daddy!abbot who has to get creative with the ways in which he helps pay your bills since you refuse to let him pay more than the $50 a month for your electric, saying that’s already too much to begin with. It’s not until you log into your resident portal to pay your other utilities that you see your water and internet bills have already been paid, and you know exactly who did it.

sugar daddy!abbot who feigns offense when you ask him worriedly whether he can afford to be helping you out this much, especially when he begins to cover your rent. “I make more than five times your rent in a week, I promise I can afford it,” he counters. “I need you focused on patients, not money.” His words make the cause seem so noble that they almost have you convinced.

sugar daddy!abbot who notices your work shoes are worn out so he just has to replace them. And when he sees the underscrubs he’s noticed you wearing in new colors, he has no choice but to purchase those too… and why not buy you a new set of earrings while he’s at it? They’d compliment the small hoops you wear everyday. And maybe a new Apple watch for good measure…

sugar daddy!abbot who invites you for drinks after a rough shift (because who doesn’t love drinking at 6 AM), his excuse being that he needs to blow off some steam and what better company than his favorite resident? It doesn’t take much convincing before you oblige, the two of you opening up about your lives and your pasts within minutes of being there.

sugar daddy!abbot who eagerly accepts your invitation to come over for “dinner” (though it’s more of breakfast) after your next shift. You offer Jack a beer as he waits on the couch while you cook, the food’s aroma quickly filling the apartment. After you both eat, Jack moaning about how good your cooking is, the two of you collapse in your bed, getting some much-needed rest after your long night of work. Jack sleeps better than he has in months.

sugar daddy!abbot who finally works up the courage to ask you out after three months of this runaround. You happily accept, letting him take you to his favorite restaurant which is seated at the top of a high-rise. Naturally, he buys your dress for you. “It’s for the dress code,” he had defended. Unbeknownst to you he just wanted to see you in lavender, thinking the soft color would compliment you (not to mention that the tight dress has your cleavage on display…).

sugar daddy!abbot who grows more serious than you’ve ever seen him when you rest your hand over his lap a few days later as he’s sat in your apartment, curling your fingers around his clothed bulge, murmuring how you want to “pay him back for everything he’s done.” He immediately pulls your hand away from his crotch, causing you to furrow your brows in confusion.

“Did I do something wrong?” you ask, all doe-eyed and sweet, concern and embarrassment etched across your features.

“No, no, that’s just… that’s not what this is, sweetheart.” When you frown in response he continues, “It’s not that I don’t want you—God, do I want you—but you don’t owe me anything. I help out because I want to. Because I like to spoil you and you deserve it.”

“Oh,” is all you have to say in response, defeated, still slightly embarrassed from the rejection.

“However,” he says after a moment of tense silence. “If you wanted to do anything purely because you want to and not because you feel like you owe me then I’d be more than happy to oblige.”

He leans into your ear, whispering lowly, “I’ve wanted to get my mouth on you and taste that pretty pussy for far too long, sweetheart.”

A/N: Please please please send in requests!

[bexism]

the pitt | should i stay or should i go

[controversiallyyoungergf]

THIS IS INCREDIBLE

[twolegsandbleeds]

“si, babe, can you move this for me?”

you pop your head into the lounge with a lopsided grin, gesturing toward the brand-new full-length mirror that had been delivered that morning.

he glances up from where he’s sprawled on the sofa, one eyebrow raised. “liftin’ heavy things is what i’m for, innit, love?” he says dryly, rolling his shoulders as he stands. with zero effort, he lifts the mirror. “where d’you want it, bird?”

“bedroom, please, babe.” you grin back, practically skipping after him down the corridor like an excited puppy, pointing at the wall directly opposite the foot of the bed. “right there.”

he sets the mirror down and frowns, eyebrows knitting together. “‘ow the fuck are you gonna use it with the bed in the way?”

you just smile sweetly and shrug, “don’t worry si. s’perfect placement.”

that evening, he finds out exactly how perfect.

you’re riding him reverse cowgirl, his back against the headboard, thick thighs spread wide beneath you. your back pressed to his chest, his large hands gripping your waist, guiding every slow, deliberate roll of your hips.

both of you are staring at the mirror.

you can see everything—his thick cock stretching your pussy open with every downward stroke, the shine of your slick coating him as you sink down and lift back up. you watch him disappear inside you, watch the way your walls cling to him when you clench. his chin rests on your shoulder, breath hot and ragged against your ear.

his eyes flick between your cunt swallowing him and the way your tits bounce with each movement.

“fuckin’ ‘ell bird.” he groans, voice wrecked.

he cums faster than usual, a hiss of air forced out of his nose as he empties himself inside your tight cunt.

when you eventually lift off him you both watch in the mirror as his cum slowly drips from your used pussy—thick, pearly white streaks spilling from your fluttering hole.

his cock twitches against his stomach, already half-hard again in seconds.

“jesus christ,” he mutters, “perfect fuckin’ placement after all.”

[rr-after-dark]

fellow white x reader writers, here are some simple swaps for ways you're white-coding your readers by using skin as a (lazy, unacceptable) shorthand. you don't have to lose the close-up, somatic feeling

necessary reminder that i am imperfect. this is non-exhaustive and i will likely notice more. just things i've seen myself leaning on in my writing that i'm working on editing out of old fics and avoiding in new ones.

blushing from embarrassment

heat -> hot cheeks, hot chest, heat through their whole body

averting eyes or heavy blinking

tightness in throat, feeling choked up

tears stinging eyes

skin crawling

setting jaw

pursing lips

picking at nails/skin on fingers

crossing arms over chest

blushing from arousal

biting lower lip

eyes slowly raking over someone/something

lips parting slightly

straightening up for better access

goosebumps, hair standing on end

pupils dilating

going pale

stomach turning

eyes going glassy and far away

unstable on feet

shaky hands

leaning on something to get balance

white knuckles

frustrated huff/sharp breaths esp through nose

tight grip

rigid posture

tight, controlled voice

notes on hair

you almost never need to describe the hair of a reader character. im serious. you can just cut brushing it out of their face or flinging it around playfully or pulling it into a ponytail. focus on other actions that convey more -- "you prepare for the fight, pulling your hair back shifting your weight from side to side so you feel ready to move" "he brushes away your hair where it hangs in front of your face an eyelash off your cheek, the gesture shockingly intimate for him"

if their hair is important -- such as a haircut being a central plot point -- keep it vague. it's an x reader fic. trust the reader to fill in the details. "a new, short haircut that frames your features" or is better in this context than "a dramatic blunt bob." yes, BIPOC people can relax or straighten or curl their hair or wear wigs for any style they damn well please. no, you should not colonize their heads by forcing it on them.

don't have characters dye their hair natural colors -> this inherently implies the character did not already have brown or black hair. i can't really imagine why you'd need to mention dyed hair, but keep it vague or keep it vibrant.

other instances that you simply don't need to include racialized description:

bitten/swollen lips -- you don't need to mention they're red

bruises -- you don't need to mention they're light brown or yellowing, just say aging, fresh, dark

tattoos, makeup, nail polish, etc. -- don't mention how much they contrast with the existing skin

[unclegradybear]

[domesticblisss]

seems like a dream (got me hypnotized)

pairing – dr. brendon park, “the shark” x plus size f!reader

rating – explicit. minors dni

wc – 3.3k

summary – you change gyms and everyone is so nice, except for this one guy that stares at you all the time.

warnings – fluff and SMUT. shitty marine biology comparisons. menacing brendon, down bad brendon. sweaty after gym sex. oral (f receiving), p in v, big dick park, slight scent kink, breath play. that’s all i think?

she/her pronouns and afab!reader. reader is described as a fat woman with curves and rolls, but no specific descriptions of race or ethnicity. all lowercase for styling purposes.

a/n – look, this man had five seconds of screen time and since then he has been plaguing my mind, i want to have a toxic relationship with him. this is just something quick and poorly written to get him out of my head while i try to write my robby series. it’s just me being a bit self indulgenty and self inserty after my trainer increased my weights three times this week and made me deadlift 70kg (that’s 155lb i think???) and i had to be a big girl and do it.

anyways, hope you enjoy it and thank you for reading 🤎

dividers by @/uzmacchiato

brendon was… a character.

you met him five months ago. well, met is a strong word. you started going to a new gym, your old one was way overcrowded, having to work in the machines with one too many people. so you changed gyms, splurged a few extra dollars on a membership to a more exclusive one where you could train without having to beg some weird gym bro to share a machine or without getting snarky looks from the cardio bunnies.

you had always been on the bigger side, always had some meat in your bones, rolls on your stomach and fat on your ass. your body made you proud, it carried you through all your highs and lows, it was a testament of you living your dream life, of how you loved and how you were loved. it was you and you weren’t going to let a couple of random whos change that. so for the sake of your mental health, you found a place that catered to your needs.

the staff was incredible. lilly, the receptionist was a sweet girl that always complimented you, either on the set that you were wearing, your tattoos or how you did your hair, one night she even said “oh my god, i need your ass.”

john, the trainer that oversees the floor, was a cool guy too. around his forties, defined muscles and too much of a sweet talker for his own good. he flirted with you and every other living and breathing being with a pair of tits. he was funny and actually paid attention to how the people training were executing their sets.

and then there was brendon. tall, broad, big, huge, brendon.

brendon has a presence that makes everyone gravitate towards and away from him at the same time. he is quiet, the most he does is give a nod as a good evening and another one as good night when he arrives and leaves the building. he moves with purpose, almost like everyone and everything was his prey.

it is almost unsettling. even more so the way he is always staring, but only at you. you have thought about confronting him, about asking if he had a problem with you or if something was wrong, but one steel blue eyed glance and all your bark is gone.

you can count on your interactions with him on one hand.

the first happened a month after you first saw him. it was past nine thirty when you were sitting in the coffee shop after just finishing your sets for the night. with your elbows on the counter, you chatted away with marie, the night cashier.

marie and you were thirsting over the new yoga professor when the sound of a throat being cleared caught your attention and, when you looked back, you caught brendon staring at you. goosebumps covered your skin and you straightened your back, busying yourself with your red berries smoothie while he ordered some protein filled monstrosity.

brendon was awfully close to you, right arm rubbing your left one in silence. it was deafening, marie kept glancing between you and him and you were sure he was staring at you the whole time.

your face burned, the five minutes that took to get his drink ready felt like five hours and some change.

“unsweetened dark chocolate protein shake for brendon!” alice the barista-turned-smooth specialist shouted.

brendon reached for his drink silently, nodded and muttered a “thank you” towards alice and marie before leaving. he stopped by your side once again, tipped his head towards your ear and barely above a whisper said “have a good night.”

you gulped, nodded your head probably way too fast while wishing him the same.

marie was in awe, jaw almost hitting the floor. alice had a mischievous look on her face, her plush lips barely containing her pearly teeth.

“girl…” marie said.

“girl!” it was alice’s turn.

“what?” you asked them.

“he’s totally into you!” marie basically shouted. you and alice shushed her.

“tone, dude.” alice intervened.

shaking your head, you said “i highly doubt that.” and took another sip of your smoothie.

“marie is right.” alice agreed with her friend. “he never, NEVER, speaks or looks at anyone unless he has to.”

marie nodded her head with such force that you were sure she was going to get whiplash. “seriously, all the hot velocity class girlies tried their luck with him and nothing! all they got was a ‘no, thanks.’ or a ‘not interested.’ he. wants. you.”

you stared at them and shook your head. “what’s his deal, anyway? he’s so… i don’t know, tense? up tight? about to bite somebody’s head off?”

“he’s a doctor. orthopedic surgeon or whatever at the PTMC. i have a friend that is a nurse in his department and apparently his nickname there is ‘park the shark’. everyone is terrified of him.”

“huh,” you thought about it. the gelled hair, the intense stare, how he moved with precision. “it fits.”

the stares kept happening and the goodbyes only made its appearances on what you figured were his good days, the ones he looked well rested and not a single drop of gel touched his hair.

they weren’t many.

the second time happened a couple of months after the first one. you felt eyes following you across the room as you loaded the weights for a deadlift, seventy pounds on each side. not much, but you were progressing well.

you positioned in front of the bar, spread your legs apart to centre yourself, left hand in and right hand out. you pulled a deep breath in and when you were about to lift, a strong tug on your shirt pulled you back up. when you looked back, you found brendon staring at you. he circled you, grey-blue eyes never leaving your form. his movements were smooth, soundless, almost calculated.

brendon truly lives up to his nickname.

then he stopped in front of you and the awe turned into a scoff when he took your headphones off.

“can i help you?” you asked, annoyed.

“your form is wrong.” he replied with that houlier than thou tone he always carried and pointed to your legs. “spread wider. your feet are facing forward, open their stance a bit.”

you looked at him again, raising an eyebrow. that only got you another eyebrow raise back and a tut of his head. you exhaled a bit too strongly and did what he asked. the changes weren’t big, but the new stance helped with the exercising, making it easier to lift.

brendon watched you in silence, nodding as you completed your set. he only spoke again after you finished it. “that’s it. good girl.”

the random pet name caught you off guard. heat pooled on your stomach and made its way up to your face. you wanted to say something, anything, but all that left your lips was a small “thank you.”

brendon gave you one of his curt nods, murmured a “nice shirt” pointing to the simple nine inch nails logo shirt you were wearing and went back to whatever exercise he was doing.

you were pretty sure that sweat wasn’t the only thing wetting your body.

the third you interacted with him happened not long after the second, and it was the biggest one to date.

that day had been the worst day ever at your job. think about the only thing that couldn’t go wrong? it did. and it wasn’t even your fault.

the company’s thirtieth anniversary was arriving and a big nationwide campaign was about to hit the market in five days. as a marketing coordinator, your job was to coordinate and instruct the analyst team as they followed your manager’s strategic planning. everything had been done to perfection and had even been turned in before the deadline. the only thing your manager had to do was send out an email, one that you had asked him to countless times before, to the advertising agency authorising the release of the commercial.

for some ungodly reason, your CEO was made aware by the agency that they had less than a week to send the commercial to the networks and most of them asked at least seven days to add it to their programming. she asked your manager about it. he didn’t know what to answer, you said that the commercial has been ready for at least ten days, only pending the release’s approval by said manager. one thing led to another and you had to sit for an extra hour and a half in your daily zoom call to hear a lecture about time management that you weren’t the demographic for.

so you arrived at the gym earlier than usual, worked your ass off, angrily doing your exercises.

brendon watched you all the time, silently following you. your thirty minute treadmill run turned to an hour run that was abruptly cut when a big, strong hand pressed the emergency button.

“what the fuck is your problem?” you shouted at brendon, who slowed his pace on the treadmill on your right.

“get out.” he grabbed your hand, and with a tenderness you didn’t imagine he would have, walked you out of the room, into the coffee shop.

“are you just going to drag me around like a caveman? what the fuck, brendon?”

he stopped midway and stared at you. his intense stare made you cower a bit. brendon dropped your hand. “you were going to hurt yourself if you kept going. now come, let’s sit down for a bit.”

he kept leading you, this time with his hand on the small of your back. when you arrived at the coffee shop, brendon asked marie for your usual and, surprising you, marie and alice, he ordered a red berries smoothie for him too.

“what happened?” he asked as he sat down, handing you your drink.

you sighed and told him about your day, about all the hard work you and your team did and how it almost went to shit. brendon never interrupted you and nodded along to your rant.

“i understand that you are angry, and rightfully so, but you need to learn other ways to let it out. you were one misstep away of me having you on an operating table and i really wouldn’t like that.”

you looked at him through your lashes in a spoiled child way. “why not?”

“i don’t like operating my friends.” he said, short.

“friends, huh?”

all brendon did was give you a tight lipped smile and a look that conveyed “maybe something else”.

or you wished it did.

“so what do you do when work gets to you?” you asked him after a while.

“i work out, like a normal person.” he gave you a pointed look. “watch my favourite movie, meditate. I got into crochet after a surgeon friend of mine took me to a workshop.”

you giggled. “you crochet?”

“yeah, why?” brendon asked, sounding a bit defensive.

“nothing. it must be a sight to see though.”

he smiled at you. a rare sight, that much you knew. it was a beautiful one, there was no denying that, but after he told you “i’ll show you someday.” in a tone that made your insides all fuzzy, you remembered his nickname, and added another thing to the list that made him live up to it. you felt like a prey and you loved the thrill.

brendon became more talkative after that day, and his talkative ways consisted in saying “hello” and “goodbye”, asking how your day went and correcting your posture when john was busy with someone else.

today was a good day. you received a promotion, finally taking over as marketing manager after your previous boss was fired after that whole shenanigan, you and your friends had finished your italy trip itinerary and it was sunny outside.

as usual, since you lived only twenty minutes away from the gym, you walked.

what you didn’t expect was the storm that started pouring as you were about to leave.

“need a ride to your car?” brendon asks as he stops by your side.

“i walked here.” you answer him, pouting while you watch the rain.

“why?”

“i live near.” you shrug.

“come.” he pats the small of your back and points to the black porsche cayenne parked in one of the covered spots.

brendon gives you his phone, telling you to type your address and, surprisingly, the less than ten minute ride isn’t a silent one. he asked what you liked to listen besides nine inch nails, told you to put some music on, to which you surprised him when sabrina carpenter started playing (he had no idea who she was, obviously). brendon asked about your day, and when you told him about your promotion, he congratulated you. you returned the question, and the horrified look on your face when he told you about the reimplantation of an amputated leg made him laugh.

the last few minutes of the ride are done in silence and with a tension that you could cut with a knife.

you noticed brendon staring at you, going from your face, to your cleavage and the fat on your thighs that the shorts you were wearing did a poor job of hiding.

you weren’t a saint either. you ogled his arms, the way his bicep was almost bursting through his shirt, the way his middle and ring fingers tightened around the wheel, making you creative mind wonder, imagining how they would feel inside of you. you had to lick your lips and swallow to suppress a moan.

the storm had finally passed when you entered your street. brendon slowly parked in front of your house and, for a few seconds, nothing but sabrina’s voice singing “never getting laid” filled the space between you.

“do you wanna come inside?” you ask.

“yeah.” he said, giving you a look that made you feel like a fish that bit the bait.

you bite your lip and nod, more to yourself than anything else, as if the realisation of what might happen finally downs on you.

brendon’s hand is on your waist the moment the two of you get out of the car, and he places a kiss on the junction of your neck and shoulder as you work your keys on your door.

it happens so fast you are not even sure your door was closed before he pressed you against it.

brendon is a big guy, so big that it feels like he is all over you. his kiss is needy and incredibly soft, a complete contrast of what you were expecting. he pulls your sports bra off and a groan leaves his lips when your tits spill out of the fabric. his hands squeeze them and he wastes no time in pulling a pierced nipple to his mouth, licking and sucking it like his life depended on it. brendon lets go with a pop, thumbs both nipples before pinching them, making you whine.

“you have no idea how long i’ve been waiting to do this.” brendon says before he takes the other nipple in.

you are a mess, lost in how his touch feels against your skin. you run your nails over your scalp and brendon moans around your tit.

his hands travel around your curves, latching themselves to the elastic band of your tight shorts. brendon yanks them down, bringing your panties with them. he kneels, traces a path of wet kisses and love bites from your sternum to your mound, where he stops to inhale your scent before he dives into your cunt.

brendon eats you like a man starved, like all the water in the world has vanished and the only thing that can quench his thirst is your essence. he licks a couple of stripes before attaching his lips to your clit, bringing one thick middle finger to tease your hole. brendon circles it, eases his way in bit by bit.

“fuck.” you moan, not believing you are feeling this full with only one finger. you can’t even imagine how it would feel with his cock.

he stops the assault on your poor clit, looks up at you with adoration. “you are fucking divine, you know that?”

it makes you moan, and the second finger breaching into your pussy doesn’t help much.

“answer me.” brendon orders.

you nod frantically, letting out a broken “i know.”

his lips are back around your clit and the feeling of his wet tongue and thick digits throw you off the edge in record time. your thighs tightened around his head so hard that he had to pry himself out of you.

brendon kisses you, shows you how good you taste on his tongue.

“where’s your bedroom?” he asks, lips still on yours.

you grab his hand and pull him with you.

you sit on your bed, fold your arms and pour in a fake complaint. “you’re overdressed.”

brendon smiles, the first sweet one you had ever seen on his lips.

he takes off his shirt first and it is exactly what you had expected, a perfectly defined six pack. his shorts and underwear come next and the air runs out of your lungs. he is big, the rare combination of length and girth that you had only seen on girthmaster. he walks towards you, that smooth walk that resembles a white shark praying on a poor seal.

that is exactly how you feel and it excites you.

brendon runs his hands on your hair and cups your face. he brings you up for a lingering kiss that makes you light headed.

“on your stomach, baby. c’mon.” he orders and you don’t think twice. you lay in the middle of the bed, just like he asked, head turned to your right to look at him.

he grabs one of the pillows and lifts your waist to set it under you.

“spit.” he says as he positions one hand near your mouth. lifting your head, you do as told.

you feel brendon position himself behind you and hears him playing with his shaft. he kneads your ass, gives it a couple of playful smacks as he mutters something about it being better than he imagined. he is gentle, plays with the blunt head of his cock around your hole to make it wetter and inch by inch, he slowly spears it into you.

it fills you to the hilt and you are pretty sure you could come without even moving.

brendon starts thrusting, increasing his speed the wetter you got. the feeling is maddening, no other partner has stuffed you this way. it only gets worse, actually, better, when he finally drops his weight on top of you.

his big body engulfs you, the heavy of it presses all of your spots and you can feel your second orgasm creeping in on you.

brendon circles one arm around your waist and the other one around your neck, putting you in a headlock.

that does it to you, the dam breaks and that overwhelming tingly sensation washes you ashore. your pussy flutters and constricts around brendon’s dick as he keeps fucking you through your orgasm. his thrusts are becoming more and more erratic and, without a warning, he cums.

brendon pulls out and the empty feeling almost makes you want to cry. he lays by your side, pulls you closer while whispering a sweet “come here.”

you don’t know how long you stay like this, in silence, cherishing each other’s hold.

brendon brings you even closer, kisses you like he doesn’t want to ever let you go. when you pull back, you ask “wanna order some take out and go again?”

domesticblisss 2026. comments and reblogs are appreciated.

[supermarvelgirl15]

Good luck everyone 🫡

[fibromyalgicaf]

How many medications are you taking daily?

0

1

2

3

4

5

7

8

9

10+

show me the answers

Voting ended onMar 5, 2025

[fibromyalgicaf]

[fibromyalgicaf]

[gnar-slabdash]

hey honest question, did anybody have GOOD stuff happen to them in 2024? cause it was really bad for me and for most people i know, so it would be nice to hear about anything that's been going WELL for any of you. even if it's small stuff. just to know there's light out there.

[illusionwaltz]

How well do you see color?

I’m cry I scored 60, I feel blind

[batter666-deactivated20180822]

so everyone is aware, a lower score on this means a better score.

[thegaybeany]

I got a 30!!!!!!!! Yes!

[blinkingkills]

7, but i’m an art student so

[kawuli]

[findingfeather]

0. I did have to squint dubiously at a couple of the green blue ones and repeatedly flip a couple tiles around though.

[gen-is-gone]

0. My mom took it after I did and was HIGHLY PUT OUT that she got a 4 and not a perfect score, despite being 40 years older than me. But clearly I know where I get my color vision XD

[fandom-trash-goblin]

[lmaojune]

@joshbruh10x @tcjacksongrimm @rim-reblogs-real-stuff @rooseycut819

[queen-of-hobgobblers]

I got 2!!!!

[knitmeapony]

[tzikeh]

Gotta love a perfect score!

I did the “compare” part as well – not sure how 696969696 and -696969696 work - they’re not hexidecimal codes and I didn’t bother to poke around the linked sites.

[moonblossom]

Perfect here too

[soaps-mohawk]

Surprised, I did it without my glasses.

[sc0ttish-wildfl0wer]

[segamascott]

trump dies of congestive heart failure before being sworn in charge to like cast to reblog

[itgetsrad]

like to charge reblog to cast

[valtsv]

okay but "the symbolism is Real and Trying to Kill You" is my favorite kind of symbolism

[valtsv]

like yeah the monster is a representation of your unresolved trauma and guilt and a manifestation of the sins of your past but it's also a real creature and it's going to fucking Get you

[sc0ttish-wildfl0wer]

@pastafossa Jane in TRT recently lmaoo

[sc0ttish-wildfl0wer]

*Me playing The Last of Us, at the part where Joel and Tess smuggle Ellie out of the QZ*

Tess: C’mon kid, follow Joel

Me, a “gamer” who has no idea what they’re doing: Bad idea, kiddo ☹️