gracie

IWASALAMB… 18+ she, her queer. GRACIE, often enjoys reading when she should be sleeping and can randomly gain the ability to write only after 5-10 business days and a lack of sleep. she will randomly fixate on a character for a week (but her love for john shen will always remain) &. most of these characters happen to randomly be from the pitt wow what a shock!

Requests are open (but slow)

This blog is ANTI AI, 18+ and purely for my love for fictional characters. I write x fem! reader only.

it’s because of how stressed we’ve both been. after starting at the pitt poor baran has been dealing with so much crap. it’s sad to see her pretty doe eyes so tired. she still tries to do stuff with you and her son, but the time for fun keeps shortening and shortening.

so when her ex has their son for the weekend and the both of you, by some miracle, have the weekend off together. what better way to spend it than to have a staycation.

besides, you planned to keep your head between her thighs for as long as possible. pulling out orgasm after orgasm with your tongue. spending hours there, face soaked, bed soaked. baran whining, her legs tightening around your head. after orgasm number five she’s trying to push you away, whining about how it’s too much. of course you ask for one more… than another, and another…

i’m giggling n kicking my feet bc yes!! avoidant reader perhaps… and she’s just so down bad for him but like HES A MAN!!! hehe i hope this is okay xx

She’s lonely. it’s the curse of working as an attending in the ED. Time is a rarity and any spare time she has she tries to spend with her son. After all it’s why she’s so efficient. a robot, she’s heard people murmur. Just to be quicker, but not ignorant, and get home to her lovely little boy.

However, then came the weeks where he was with his dad. when toys lay untouched and she had no reason to go home.

Loneliness.

It seeped into her bones like an old friend. Fingertips encasing around her heart, squeezing it when she tried to ignore the silence.

So she caved.

Garcia has jokingly mentioned the website once. Only once. Baran hadn’t meant to store the information in her head. But she did. Oh she did.

She scrolled. And scrolled. Cheeks burning at the sights she was witnessing. But nothing grabbed her. Something in her stomach that would let her know when she’s found the one.

It was teetering on hopeless for Baran when finally she felt that feeling in her stomach as she stumbled onto your page.

Pretty smile, eyes she could drown in. You looked soft, sweet. Too kind to be on such a degrading website. She has to help you of course. But first, she has to watch. Make sure you’re worthy of her help.

It takes her two minutes to subscribe.

Two days to become a full member.

And the next time her son was at his Dad’s she had booked a special private appointment.

It felt greedy. Wrong. Seedy in a way. But she wanted to spoil you. Had the means to spoil you. Watching your face light up whenever she sent a message in live chat, you never played up for the money. You were seriously grateful.

It ruined her.

So she opened her laptop, excited to have you all for herself. The start had been awkward for the both of you. You didn’t offer this to just anyone, and well Baran didn’t do this with just anyone. Cheeks burning on both sides of the screen as you just talked to her. Helping her set up her mic.

You moaned when you heard her voice. Closing your eyes you could imagine her, that strict controlling tone, guiding your body with her words. How sharp her tongue would be. How you needed her.

In half an hour you’ve both came twice and you’re begging to see her face.

It’s against the rules.

Her life could be ruined.

You shouldn’t know this.

She turns on the camera.

She’s glowing. Baran looks like a goddess. Ruined by watching you come undone. Her chest, now available to stare at, rose and fell with unsteady breath. Eyes unfocused as she grinned at the screen.

it’ll start out as a joke. of course. her just explaining how she’s sooooo stressed bc of her new job and how she’d love a way to destress. you offer the usual, bath, massage, dinner and she just shakes her head. biting her lip in that was that you know means she has an idea, she’s just not ready to share it yet.

it won’t be until the two of you are in bed, later than previous nights because finally your insanely smart girlfriend has a day off and you had decided she deserved to sleep in. then, she’ll pop out a question or well a statement…

she’ll stammer over her words first, blush madly, avoid eye contact because she feels like a virgin all over again because the idea is so dumb it’s smart.

“you know how people joke about your breasts being stress balls?” she trails off, a nervous chuckle escaping her lips. she looks at you now. those deer eyes damming you, she knows what she’s doing. “can i please use yours, i’m just so stressed and-“

you cut her off with a kiss. giggling at her flustered state. taking off your sleep shirt to expose yourself. skin prickling with goosebumps, from excitement or the change in temperature you didn’t know nor minded.

Jack Abbot prided himself on his ability to not loose control. Testing himself everyday by working in a damn hospital. But there was something about you that just… ruined him.

father’s day. a hard topic in her home. a reminder of what she once had and now no longer holds onto. her son’s at his dads, as he should be. celebrating the day with the man who created him (only ever so slightly.). the house is quite. she’d worked most of the day, tried to do a double but dana could tell she was exhausted. sent her home ignoring the grumbles that came from baran.

she can’t even drink her sorrows away due to her medication. sat staring at the wall, some old jazz playing from her radio.

that’s when she gets a god awful idea.

terrible, really.

she messages you.

her pretty little resident who pouted whenever she wasn’t in (she had been lucky enough to have been sent a photo from mckay). who rolled her eyes at robby and yet obeyed her every word. you were so good.

she needed good.

you’d make it to her in less than ten minutes. partially panting. staring wide eyed at her messy form. it was like seeing an angel. maybe she was an angel. but the glimmer in her eyes told you this was your damnation.

and that’s how you found yourself flush between her soft thighs, fingers tracing her stretch marks on her thighs as she tightens her hold around you. watching you whimper as you taste her. as if she were a divine meal. lapping at her with your tongue, sucking at her clit to make her arch her back and suffocate you.

she gets lonely. especially as her son grows up and needs her less (he’ll always need her, he’s just going through a phase.) she knows one day she’ll be alone. complaining to abbot about her fears of reaching robby’s age (because yes, she is in fact moderately younger than him) and just being alone and grumpy.

abbot slips up. he jokes about sugar babies. in a way that baran knows he’s got one himself. clearly, he knows too much for this to be a thing he hasn’t dabbled in. neither discuss his extensive knowledge.

baran doesn’t tell him she’s found one.

you. her pretty pink baby who whines over her doe eyes and actually seems to enjoy talking to her. you’re understandable of her time. she’s still a mom first. which in some ways you find incredibly endearing. how she’ll gush about him once you two are closer.

what you love the most? her selfies. god she sends so many and you are so very thankful and eager to compliment every single one. it pains you that you’re not there with her, drinking wine for the both of you seeing as she can’t drink. you’d be so good, so happy to hold her, touch her.

as her son grows older she’ll begin to panic, think you’ll leave her. everyone leaves her. so she becomes a…. sugar mommy of sorts. neither of you call it that. no, you still look after her son when her shifts go over and you take him to school. she just happens to also pay for your nails, whatever you want to do between the hours of 9-3. just stay, please.

she’ll come home from work, or even a date. still frustrated. still pent up. you’ll share a glass, or a whole bottle. the more she drinks the looser she gets. words falling from her lips that should stay hidden away. like how she thinks you’re the most gorgeous woman she’s ever met. how she’d be without you. you’re a part of her life, her system, her heart.

but she’ll refuse to cross that boundary. you’re her live in nanny. younger. she wasn’t old, per say, but god she felt old beyond her years.

it’ll take a while. her seeing you go out. flirting with a woman even older than her. missing you when you go away for two days. smelling your laundry (your panties). yearning for you.

but her sons at his dads tonight. it just the two of you. a bottle of wine shared. you in your lacy shorts. torture for baran - who loved your thighs. they were like heaven on earth, soft smooth skin. she just wanted to run her fingers along it and see how you’d shiver. you knew this. it’s why you wore them.

surely she knew of your crush on her. just as you knew of her crush on you. did women like her call them crushes? you wanted to learn. for her to be the teacher and you the oh so obedient puppy.

so when ur hand slipped onto her leg, neither mentioned it. the same happened when you tugged her bra strap down. there were no complaints when she groped your pretty tits. mumbling bout how young you were as her lips brushed against the pebbled skin.

the only noises made that evening were the sweet moans and whines of your lust intertwined. her tongue, as you had imagined, was sin. the way she had looked up at you, your slick coating her chin…. it had been everything.

he’d be soooo worried!!! ofc he’s a doctor and he knows you’re not deathly ill but like your the love of his life and future mother of his child so of course he’s going to be worried to a certain extent. if it’s terrible and you’re throwing up unable to leave the bed, he’s calling off work. nothing is as important as YOU. no matter the list, no matter the order. you are on top.

he’d definitely have a timer for when to take your medication. and it’s almost comedic at how the nonchalant attending of the pitt is quite the opposite when his amazing wife is sick. you laugh if you weren’t well… sick.

CONFESSIONS OF A MAN IN LOVE J. CARTER