Espressheauxs - Say You Can’t Sleep

You have been visited by the twocumber. May you receive twofold luck in the coming days

the thought of walsh and abbott both getting possessive over reader at work and the both of them competing while double domming reader after they're all off is driving me insane

(i think you've opened pandora's box...)

When your name tumbles from their lips at the same time, all you can do is freeze.

“C’mere for a sec, kid. Got a good one for ya.” Jack is the first to start again, B-lining for where you stand at a monitor, ten seconds-post finishing a chart for your latest patient. “Guy in 18 has a–”

“Actually, I need you with me. Single GS incoming, six minutes out,” Walsh appears on the other side of your shoulders, clenching her hand together to keep her from grabbing your arm like she so desperately desires.

Pursing your lips, you keep your eyes on the screen. You end up kicking yourself in the inside when you can’t find anything to make it look like you’re busy.

“Well, sorry, Dr. Walsh but she’s coming with me,” Jack declares, making sure to soften his face with a quick smile when he nods his head at you to follow. “Gotta reattach the tip of an index finger, want you gloved up so I can talk you through the suture–”

“Too bad. I need her with me in Trauma. Have Parker do it, she could handle that with her eyes closed. Easy.”

“Parker’s busy, and this is a good learning opportunity for the kid. Or have you forgotten we’re a teaching hospital, Dr. Walsh?”

“She can learn just as much from a GSW as she can from a replantation.”

“You sure about that one?”

“Hey,” you breathe out, moving to step in between where the two are starting to unconsciously tug toward one another. You even throw a little frown at them but it probably looks like more of a pout because you hate when they get like this–and you know they know you hate it when they get like this. “Really, you guys? Right here?”

A handful of thick seconds pass. Finally–

“...come on.”

“...let’s move.”

Huffing, you drop your arms and toss an annoyed glare at the ceiling. “Fuck me.”

“Fuck me…” you whisper out, flinching when Emery circles a drenched tongue around your clit at a whine-indcucing pace. You squirm against Jack’s front, who doesn't stop the sloppy kisses he pressing just below your ear when he tightens his grip around you. “Ah.”

“Thought y-you all we’re supposed to be–shit–making up f-for earlier,” you whimper, “not this.”

“Should’ve had me go first. Would’a let you come on my tongue at least three times by now, doll.”

“Oh, I think you spent your fair share of time down here yesterday afternoon,” Emery smacks along your slit, hand squeezing at the plush of your thighs as she sends a cutting look past you toward Jack. He meets the sharp gaze, sending a just-as-piercing leer while his teeth move to nibble at your jaw. “Could still taste her when you kissed me before work. You should fucking shave, by the way.”

Just as Jack hurries to rebut, Emery sucks at you clit with enough force to wail a moan from you loud enough to cover Abbot’s rasp. He rolls his eyes at the two of you even though his cock jumps at the sound and the sight.

“Can someone please just fuck me?”

A little of the tension melts, Jack and Emery sharing a small quirk of the lips.

Dragging her lips up your body, Walsh hangs over you and Jack in a close hover. She bends a little, sharing a long snog with Jack before pulling away and turning to you.

“We’re sorry, baby,” she coos, cupping your cheeks and bending to kiss your lips. You feel Jack breathing deep behind you as her tongue swipes across yours. Giving you one last peck, she pulls away with a quick wink that only you can see before helping Jack shift you against him. “Got her?”

“Yeah. You set, hun?”

A genuine smile ghosts across Emery’s mouth, and she stares at you and Jack. Chest warming, she hums out an easy mhm. 

“You?”

Jack grins at Emery, pecking a kiss to your shoulder just before lacing his fingers with the woman at your front. “Never better, baby.”

© 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐯𝐚

I need a mutual to let me brain rot about a very specific idea I have for Jack Abbot x doctor!reader. An outline of events, if you will.

I can’t get this out of my head:

Jack sees the shock on your face before he hears the words he had just said to you.

When had the wind been this defeaning? Or was it the silence?

“J-Jack…you don’t…don’t say th-”

“I’d do it with you. Have kids.” He said again, more definitely this time. More concrete. More real. He thinks about all the time he’s spent alone, of the kind of life he could’ve had had things been different. How you’re a different person, a different doctor, more fierce in every way when a child patient comes through those doors.

And fuck, if it doesn’t make his heart squeeze when he thinks what that can be like with you.

“We don’t have to get married.” He says, eyes watching how your throat constricts and your lips wobbles, tears threatening to free fall again.

His face leans in closer to yours, how it normally does whenever he’s seen you doubt yourself and willed every bit of confidence in you.

“But I want this for you, I want this with you. That asshole down there made you feel like you had to choose one thing and give up another, but you don’t have to give up anything with me. You can have it all, and I want to make that happen for you, if that’s what you want.”

Lord knows he’d rather chew sand than let himself be this vulnerable again.

But with you, he didn’t have to be afraid of anything at all.

Ayo Edebiri via deemakeupart on Instagram — February 22, 2025

Hi honeybun! first off, I LOVE your stories. So creative and sexy

So my question: kinda funny

Do you think Javi P. would be more of a boobs man or an ass man? I always like thinking of these things when it comes to Pedro’s characters. Like I for sure think Joel Miller is all about the booty.

Thanks and *kiss *kiss

hiiiii thank you, i appreciate that sm and ty for reading <3

javi is 1000000000000% a boobs man like he loves a good rack and is always finding any reason to touch up on 'em

and dont even get me started on how mesmerized he gets when you're riding him and your tits are just bouncin around that man goes crazyyyy

gif examples of javi being a tits guy:

COMFORT IN THE CHAOS

PAIRING: Michael “Robby” Robinavitch x Female Reader

RATING: Explicit

WORD COUNT:

SUMMARY: 1258

Robby gets home late from work and joins you in the bath.

TAGS/WARNINGS:

established relationship, no use of y/n, domestic fluff, sharing a bath, pet names (sweetheart, baby), no plot, single pov - robby

explicit sexual content (18+ MDNI): fingering, hand job, hair pulling, kissing, light edging, begging, switch behavior

LINKS:

main blog | ao3 | masterlists

Robby gets home late, closer to nine than to seven like he was scheduled. His back aches and his feet are tired but none of that matters because as he unlocks the door to his apartment, he knows that you’re going to be there waiting for him.

He drops his bag to the floor and kicks off his shoes. You’re not in the living room, watching TV, or in the kitchen, leaning against the counter as you dig a spoon straight into a pint of ice cream. He checks the bedroom and you’re not curled under the quilt but he can hear soft music through the slightly open bathroom door so he peeks inside.

You’re in the bath, bubbles up to your neck and your head tilted back on the edge of the tub. You’ve left the vanity lights off, opting instead for the singular light above the shower so the room is only dimly lit. Your eyes are closed and if it weren’t for the way you move your hands in the water, he would think you were asleep.

“Are you going to keep staring or join me?” You ask, lifting your head to look at him. He steps further into the room, crouching down by the tub.

“I don’t know, you seem pretty happy in there by yourself,” he says, reaching in to flick some of the warm water at you.

Despite his reply, he stands and removes his clothes and you shift forward in the water, giving him space to settle in behind you, his legs on either side of yours and your back to his chest. A bit of water escapes the tub but you’re not bothered and he doesn’t care, too content with the way the heat soothes his pain and the weight of your body against his.

“How was work?” You ask. He settles his palms against your belly, traces his nose against the shell of your ear.

“I’m two hours late. How do you think it was?”

“I’m just making conversation,” you reply. He can hear the accompanying eye roll in your tone.

“Maybe,” he says, sliding his hands lower, “I don’t want to talk about work.” You hum, head dropping back against his shoulder. Your thighs part just enough for him to fit his hand between them. “In fact, I don’t really want to talk at all.”

He uses two fingers to circle your clit and brings his other hand to one of your breasts, squeezing it before pinching your nipple until you gasp. You squirm in his hold, your ass rubbing against his hard cock. He plays with your pussy to his heart’s content, slowing down when he thinks you’re close and picking up the pace when you whine for more.

You reach your arm up, wrapping it around the back of his neck, anchoring yourself to him. You lift one leg over the edge of the tub, opening yourself up. He wishes he could see past the bubbles as he slides two fingers inside of you and your body tenses against him.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he whispers against your neck. “That feel good?”

“Yeah,” you manage, voice hitching on the word when he curls his fingers.

He sinks his teeth into the side of your neck, right over your pulse, making you gasp and tighten around him. He grinds his palm against your clit on every thrust of his hand and curls his fingers every time he withdraws until he knows you’re right on the edge.

“Ask me if you can come,” he says.

“Can I come?” You dutifully respond.

“You can do better than that.” He slows down just slightly but it’s enough to make you groan in frustration. “Ask nicely.”

“Please can I come?”

Robby resumes his earlier pace, giving your clit extra attention with messy swipes of his thumb. It’s not long before you’re arching your back and tightening around his fingers as you come, pretty mouth open wide in a silent gasp. You collapse against him, chest heaving with labored breaths, and he slowly withdraws his fingers, sliding his hand up your body until he’s cupping your jaw and turning your face toward his for a kiss.

You turn your body to face him, straddling his thighs and reaching down to take his cock in your hand, making him hiss. His hands roam your body as you start to pump your fist and lean forward for a kiss that’s hungry, messy, tongues moving together in shared desperation.

Your other hand fists his hair and you tug, hard, breaking the kiss. His eyes open and you’re looking down at him, haloed in the dim light, and for a moment he thinks that this might be a glimpse of heaven.

“You take such good care of me, you know that?” Your voice is a low murmur, your lips close enough to touch but your tight hold on his hair makes it impossible to bridge the small distance. His fingers flex, digging into your hips. “You must be exhausted.”

Robby makes a noise of agreement. You twist your hand around the head of his cock, smooth your thumb over the slit. His thighs flex and toes curl from the overwhelming sensation.

“Come on, baby.” You lick his throat, nipping at his earlobe. “Let go for me.”

His orgasm washes over him with another two strokes, the combination of your voice and touch too much to bear for too long. You ease him through it before letting go of his softening cock and releasing your grip on his hair.

He cups your face and brings you in for a kiss, pouring his gratitude into the movement of his mouth against yours. When you pull away, he watches you lean back to turn on the faucet and grab a bottle of shampoo.

You unhook the spray attachment from its holder, turning it on low. He tips his head forward to let you spray his hair.

“You don’t have to—“

“Hush,” you interrupt. “Let me do this.”

He doesn’t argue after that. Not when you pour a bit of shampoo in your palm and lather it up, carding your fingers through his hair. Not when you drag the suds down into his beard and lightly scratch, a sensation almost as good as the orgasm you gave him.

You rinse the soap from his hair and face with a level of care that makes his chest ache. After that, you wash what you can reach of his body with some of your body wash, ensuring he smells more like vanilla and less like hospital antiseptic.

When you’re done, you both stand to do a cursory sweep of the sprayer to get the lingering bubbles off. He opens the drain and climbs out of the tub, holding out a hand to help steady you as you get out.

Robby dries himself off and drops his towel to the floor, kicking it around to soak up the small puddle of water that’s formed around the tub as a result of your activities. You leave the bathroom, wrapped in your towel, and he grabs another towel from the closet to wrap around his waist before following you into the kitchen.

You heat up the plate of dinner you kept for him in the microwave. He pulls out a pint of ice cream and a spoon. You eat together, leaning against the kitchen counters, and Robby knows one thing for certain.

At the end of the day, you’re his comfort in the chaos.

Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving a comment or reblogging if you enjoyed 💕

Okay so this is what I have in mind for fics in the next few weeks:

- 5 moments with Jack Abbot: the one where he knew he was going to like you, the three where he gets to know you, and the one that seals the deal for him (let’s be real this man is down bad so they’re all seals the deal moments but ykwim) Jack Abbot x Dottoressa!reader

- fake boyfriend! Michael Robinavitch: trying to avoid a weirdo at the bar, you insert yourself at Michael’s booth with the rest of his colleagues, glued to his side as if you belonged there the whole time, an interesting arrangement ensues. (Fwb/fake dating)

- maybe a (n)sfw alphabet for each? is there a template to follow that y’all know of?

That’s all I have for now I’m afraid. But I’d love to Drabble and talk some brain rot in between :)

maybe i was made for loving things. maybe that's what life is all about.

PEDRO PASCAL on Jimmy Kimmel Live | March 2025