#THAT HURT ME OML...

[octoxicash]

🩸,💘 , 🍽️ !!

lots of alts below bc i made too many :p

no static

and no red overlay

and no red overlay or static :ppp

[lesbian-cowpoke]

I'm gonna be honest I need someone to explain wtf is the DC timeline.

Cause like. I get everything pre-flashpoint. Then n52 happens and my brain breaks.

I'm specifically asking because I'm trying to piece together Stephanie's timeline.

So like. In the n52 she basically never met the bats before and was spoiler again. That timeline carried to rebirth. And in the Batmen Eternal storyline... Tim like... found/was given tech/brother eye from the pre52 future? Cause like it's from the pre52 timeline just in the future? And it shows Steph and Cass that they used to be batgirls in that timeline?

And then. I don't know. They become batgirls again? And like. Steph's old history is back???

Idk. I'm very confused help please.

[honorary-fool]

Mortal Treatment || Whumptober 2023 Day 2

No. 2: “I’ll call out your name, but you won’t call back.”

Thermometer | Delirium | “They don't care about you.”

-----

cw/tw: swearing, mention of emeto/vomit (nothing happens though), mentions of a previous character's death, blood mentions (not real),

misc notes: oc x canon, oc uses they/them & vae/vaer neopronouns, first attempt at trying to write actual delirium but I think it turned out okay ^^ ; also used a prompt by @whumpster-dumpster ; not beta read ; cross-posted on ao3 under mimikyu_nerd_69

word count: 2.2k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

          Archons don’t get sick. They can't catch the flu, and are immune to stomach bugs. Common colds may as well tremble in their presence. Mortal medicine has little to no effect on their divine selves, as do the illnesses they contract and spread every once in a blue moon. Allergies are a different case, as they are not sickness, rather just reactions to things of the mortal world- Barbatos would know first hand. But a genuine illness afflicted upon one of The Seven? That would simply be unheard of!

          But most of the archons still have their gnosis in their possession, and without the chess-like pieces they are much weaker, both in terms of their power and general vulnerability. No one had thought to inform the anemo archon of this information, especially after his gnosis was taken rather painfully by The Fair Lady.

          At first Venti thought of the symptoms as merely his feline allergy rearing its head again. After all, he had been in the city earlier in the day- stray cats roaming the streets were a common sight in Mondstadt (and they seemed to really like him, furry bastards). 

          Surely that would explain the fatigue and the headache and blurry vision and puffy eyes and a particularly persistent case of the sniffles.. right?

          Venti made it to the Whispering Woods without blacking out or injury. With a less-than-graceful 'oomph', he dropped to the grass, and his lyre tumbled to the grass beside him with a low thump. He attempted to sit up and lean against the tree close by, but a lack of energy and faint body aches made it rather difficult. Okay, that's fine, it could be worse- he could've been in the middle of nowhere in Liyue with Geovishaps after him in such a state. 

          The bard closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, trying to steady himself before he attempted again to sit up. This time it was a lot more successful, but still left him achy and fatigued. He leaned back against the rough bark, closing his eyes again to try and drown out the pounding headache at the back of his skull. It felt like someone was whacking him over the head with a flat end of a claymore. At least it was dark outside, so the sun wouldn't bother him like it did earlier in the day.

          There were no monsters in sight, so maybe it wouldn't hurt to doze off for a bit...

~=+=~

          Venti wasn't sure when he came to consciousness again, but he definitely knew the surroundings looked vastly different from before.

          He attempted to bolt, fearing he'd been kidnapped, only to fall off of something..fuzzy? and tumble face-first onto the floor. Everything felt like it was spinning, so it was hard to tell where exactly he was, which only added to how horrible he physically felt.

          Chills seeped into his bones, sending shivers down his spine and a cold sweat down his neck. Lights burned overhead, leaving him slightly overwhelmed by the heat and brightness. The headache remained, and as far as he could tell, it either stayed the same or worsened since he blacked out. Everything hurt all over, both from the fall and pre-existing body aches, and his limbs felt like jelly beneath him. He groaned, trying to hide from the light and in his arm instead.

"Taking that as the cue you've finally woken up.." Venti heard a familiar voice call, followed by footsteps.

          A head of teal hair poked their head into the room, immediately finding him on the floor with a sad smile. Of course his partner found him. At least it was someone he trusted to not have ill intent.

"Oh, you poor dear... you're in a worse state than I found you last night," Carmen cooed, approaching before kneeling on the floor next to Venti. "I'm glad I found you when I did... are you okay?"

"Mmh..."

          Seems he had little energy to speak as well. Lovely.

"Shit..," Carmen murmured as they reached forward, cupping his cheek in their hand as they slightly lifted his head up. "That's strange, your braids seem a little duller than usual... Hold still for me for a moment, I need to test somethin'.."

          Vae leaned to press a gentle kiss to the other's forehead, pulling away after a few seconds. Their expression, initially one of mild worry, shifted to one of concern, almost fear.

"You're burning up, lovebug... I thought it was a hangover, but you didn’t smell like wine, an’ I fear this might be worse," they attempted to joke, despite the worry lacing vaer tone. "Hopefully it’s nothing more than just a bad cold. I'm gonna try to get you back on my bed, okay?"

          Now that they said it, that does sound right..part of him wondered why vae didn’t bring him to his own room, but maybe they panicked..rightfully so, but still.

          Venti gave a weak nod, before returning his head to the cold floor beneath him. He lazily watched them as they stared with narrowed eyes for a few moments in silent contemplation. Carmen had carried him around multiple times, too many to count, but he's always been upright or standing prior to.. not exactly ill and flat on his stomach on the floor.

          After minutes of struggling through various attempts, Carmen finally had him sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning against their body for support. Once up there, they started to remove most of his layers in an attempt to cool him down a little bit. One hand gingerly undid the bow securing his cape while the other reached to grab the fallen beret off the floor. He managed to kick off his loafers himself, and vae moved behind him to loosen the laces on his corset. They even undid his braids, setting the hair elastics on the bedside table and carding their fingers through the sections to loosen the braids. Every garment removed was carefully set aside to fold up later, and by the time they finished, all he was left in was his shirt, shorts, and tights. 

          Afterwards, they gently pushed him to lay down, almost pulling the blanket over him before deciding against it.

“Is this helping? Do you feel a bit cooler yet?”

          Venti whined in response, curling up on his side.

          They sighed, gently placing their hand on his head and scratching at his scalp. A sad smile formed on their lips as they watched him lean into their touch almost instantly, like magnetic attraction.

"If you're gonna be okay being alone for a few minutes, I'm gonna grab a few things from the kitchen, okay?"

          Carmen tried to hide their laugh at the pout their partner had, glazed-over puppy eyes staring at them under dark hair. It’d be cute if he wasn’t sick..

"I'll be quick, I promise.. you don't feel like you're gonna throw up, right?"

          They felt him shake his head from under their palm, vaer hand moving with him.

"Then you'll be okay for five minutes, sweet pea.."

          They leaned over to gently place a kiss on the flushed tip of his nose, removing their hand from his head before leaving for the door.

          Venti watched them leave, staring off into space. Maybe the heat was getting to be too much, but he didn’t have the energy to use his anemo abilities to cool himself off.

          So, he just stared at the dark brown door, which then became staring at the darker brown floor, and then nothing at all as his vision blurred. Why was it so hard to focus, was this normal? It couldn’t be, but why was it so difficult to keep his eyes focused- did it really take that much energy?

          He sniffled quietly, rubbing at his eyes- maybe that would help?

          When he pulled his hand away, he saw a brown and white blur against the wall. 

“Mhh…” he groaned, trying to move himself closer to the edge of the bed to see it. Of course, he could only get so far in his weakened state.

          The blur looked..scarily reminiscent of someone. The colors were in all the right places, it had to be…

          They were dead though. He saw it with his own eyes. Why were they here if they’re dead?? 

          Too absorbed in his thoughts, he didn’t notice them come closer until pale blue eyes were staring right into his. He tensed, startled, before trying to reach out for them. His hand went right through them, and for a moment he felt the color drain from his face.

“Wh..”

          They’re..they’re gone, but they’re here! But they’re gone… But they’re here…

          Venti kept trying to touch them, to grab their hand, feel some sort of warmth and solidity in their form. Pale hand kept swiping at air, cutting through the image of his late best friend.

“No.. no no no no-”

          His hand shook as he kept trying, until it fell limply back to the mattress, until his vision became too blurry to see them completely.

“Don’t go..come back..” he pleaded, sniffling.

          The white and brown figure backed away slowly, out through the open doorway.

“Come back..”

          The god’s eyes burned, and this time he rubbed at them with his sleeve. When he pulled his arm away, he saw red.

“Carmen..? Carmen..!” he choked out, clawing at the sheets, oblivious to how they left no streaks of blood. “Carmen.. ‘m bleeding..”

          Venti saw the figure slowly return, kneeling at his side again.

“Why’s..why’s it back? Carmen..!” 

          He kept crying out for his partner, increasingly overwhelmed from the light, and the blood, and the image of his dead best friend taunting him with its presence, and-

“I’m here, sweetheart..”

          In the white and brown figure’s place was his partner, looking down at him in concern. Carmen gently cupped his cheek with warm, pale hands, wiping away the tears with vaer thumb. If his eyes didn’t deceive him, he could’ve sworn they flinched.

“Shhh, it’s okay..” they cooed, “I’m here, you’re safe…”

“But..but ‘m bleeding-”

“Bleeding?”

          They watched him raise his hand to show him. He didn’t understand why they took his hand in theirs almost instantly and gently squeezed it- why would they immediately touch something bloody?

“There’s no blood, sweet pea, I promise…it’s a bit wet with tears, but that’s about it..” they reassured him, letting go of his hand after a few moments.

“Oh..”

“Is that why you’re crying?”

          He nodded, rubbing at his eyes again. “Mhmm… an… an’ I saw someone..”

“Oh?” Carmen tilted their head slightly. “That’s..a bit worrying. Who exactly did you see..?”

“Mhh…my, my friend..”

          Thankfully, knowing of the archon’s background, it didn’t take long to figure out who he most likely meant, despite a few people fitting the description of just ‘his friend’. If it were one of the others, they’d be mentioned by name, but because this one wasn’t, then that meant…

“I see…”

          It broke their heart to see him so upset, between the illness and likely resurfaced grief. Poor bastard’s had to put up with so much shit- not that they haven’t either, but there’s a difference between being an immortal god that’s been around for centuries and an immortal elf that’s been around for even less time.

          They pulled away for a moment, crawling up onto their bed to sit next to the god. Vae gently turned vaer partner over onto his other side, frowning at how he winced from the movement. Seems those body aches haven’t left…

“I’m sorry it took so long to come back, by the way..I got sidetracked trying to make soup..” They eyed the tray they put on the bedside table, watching the steam rise from the radish and veggie soup bowl. “I did get the thermometer though…let’s see, just ooone second-”

          Carmen reached over the god and plucked the thermometer off the tray. They pressed a button, waited for the beep, then carefully stuck it under his tongue.

“Good..it’s only for a minute, I know it’s uncomfortable..” 

          They held the thermometer with one hand and used the other to play with Venti’s hair in an attempt to distract him from the uncomfortable sensation. Thank goodness Fontaine made these a while ago- they couldn't imagine how people used to figure out temperatures without them.

          Finally, the thermometer beeped, and they removed it to look at the number.

“Shit… 39.4. No wonder you were hallucinating your friend…”

          Carmen sighed, setting the thermometer down before trying to move the god to sit up against the pillows. He let vaer do so, not having the energy to do it himself or protest other than a wince of pain, to which they mumbled an apology. 

          As soon as he was sorted out, they reached for the tray on the bedside table, deciding it best to maybe get some form of sustenance in his system to help combat the illness. There’s not much that can be done, given mortal medicine’s a hit or miss, but that has to work, right?

          Vae was about to lift a spoonful to his mouth, when they realized he was nodding off against their shoulder. Into the bowl goes the spoon, their hand reaching up to play with his hair instead. Later then, they decided, ‘cus for now he needs all the rest he can get.

[meganegatari]

You should definitely write for Vi bc oml she’s so fine 😮‍💨

DO U EVEN KNOW THE WAY IM TWEAKIN OVER HER like omfg. my poor moots getting bombarded with fucking piles of edits upon edits of her and my thirsty comments...yeah...i gotchu, you don't needa ask me twice ♡ tbh feel like this is one of the better short smutty thingies i've written, lol. it was really fun.

nsfw drabble—dom!vi + spit kink. originally i was gonna make this three smaller blurbs, but decided to just smash em all into one longer drabble situation. cw: praise, bossy vi, finger sucking (r! receiving), oral (v! receiving), vi bush mention RAHHHH, yapping... yk how it is by now. + 1.1k wc.

you were gazing up at her with watery eyes, kneeling by vi's seated form, trying your hardest to ignore the deafening ache between your thighs.

vi is loving, and she knows how to treat you well. she always provides you with tons of care and happiness, however—she also possesses a dirty side to her.

a bandaged hand swipes at the bottom of your chin, her thumb prodding at your pursed lips. there was a smirk playing on her scarred lips, her powder-blue eyes twinkling with pure lust at the scenario playing out before her.

“open.” she says roughly, and who are you to deny her? you were willing to take anything she'd give you, so you obediently part your lips, allowing her to fully push her digit inside your hot mouth.

almost instinctively, your puffy lips wrap around her thumb and you begin to suck, your eyes rolling ever so slightly at the taste of her salted skin. she hums, “atta girl—keep going. just like that, until i say you can stop, alright?” you open your eyes and nod in approval, wishing to commit her expression to memory.

see, vi wasn't one of those mean, degrading doms with an icy exterior who get off on hurting you an excessive amount, and in moments like this where she's got you in a position of submission under her, her natural “switchiness” peeks through. you see it in the way her throat bobs as she swallows, her unsteady, shallow breathing coming out in rasps, and the distinct furrow in her flaming brows while she struggles to maintain eye contact. regardless, you both enjoy toying around with various dynamics, she makes it fun.

you get lost in a daydream while staring into her eyes, but are startled out of it when she strongly presses down on your wet tongue, and pushes her thumb further inward until you gag.

it surprises you, but you know she would never overdo things. tears well up in your eyes, their presence only widening her voracious grin.

then she soothes, her now-soft voice caressing your ears, “exactly, just like that. good job, baby. you're so perfect f'me—yeahhh.” she continues rolling her thumb around your wet muscle, every so often dragging the pad of her finger over the ridges of your teeth, then pushing experimentally up against the roof of your mouth.

saliva has been gathering all this time, and she hasn't given you a moment to swallow it, so it dribbles out of your mouth and down your chin, decorating your chest as it slides down your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps along its path.

her face gets impossibly redder as she observes the sight, still while playing with—rather, using—your mouth. her movements speed up a touch, and she triggers your gag reflex once more before abruptly stopping. she pulls her hand out of your mouth with a pop, and throws her head back as she tries to steady her breathing. “you're so fuckin’ hot, god—i can't.”

you smile up at her, reveling in her break of character and being pleased with yourself. she's panting, and examines her hand; it's shiny and dripping with your spit, she's mesmerized by the sparkle it emits in the low light. her periwinkle eyes gloss over and suddenly there's a flash of fabric flying by, and you realize she has undressed herself in one fluid motion, throwing everything on her bottom half across the room. she’s so desperate, you can’t help but sneer at her horny distress, even though technically you were the one being overpowered.

your eyes drop, meeting a wild tangle of vermillion and crimson, her muscular thighs separating east and west to make space for you.

she leans back and gently nudges your head towards her tender, drooling core, her chest heaving at the way you're just melting under her touch. turning to jelly, you let her guide you where she wants. needs.

vi groans quietly, her breath hitching, “c'mon angel, you know what to do.” and you very much did. with her assistance, you advance and bury your face in her center, tongue finding her scarlet pearl—twitching and ready for you to obliterate.

you flick, you suck, and you moan at the heavenly taste of her essence, revel in the noises she's producing above you. she pulls you further in, bucking her hips frantically to chase your skilled mouth. you push your tongue inside her quivering hole as far as it'll go, taking as much of her in your mouth as you can, and ignoring the lack of oxygen you're experiencing—you would be more than pleased if you were lucky enough to die this way.

she's watching you intently through half-lidded eyes, chewing on her rosy lips. when you meet her gaze from in between her legs, her face contorts and she releases a guttural whine, more slick leaking from her and filling your hard-at-work mouth.

her grip on your hair tightens and her abs tense, providing you with an image that's worthy of a climax just on its own. her head falls back, her lips parting to allow for pretty, high pitched and pathetic pleas to grace your ears. “ple—please baby, just like that. you're so fuckin' good, don't you dare stop—ah!”

without any warning she makes a vulgar mess of your face, the vice grip on your crown causing you to wince, but just as she requests, you don't dare move.

you tilt your head to get a better angle, practically making out with her swollen pussy. you drink up her cum, the near-sickly sweetness clouding your mind, coating your thoughts in a drunken haze.

the high is rippling through her at such an intensity her loud moans are replaced with pornographic whimpers, the sensations utterly ruining her. she squirms and arches, caging your head between her thighs until she gasps.

"hah—okay, okay, oh—fuck.” she stutters while she pushes you away, the tremor in her body evident. you sit back and examine your work, feeling proud of yourself, her fucked-out condition proving you did a good job.

she's sprawled on the bed like a starfish, still trying to slow her racing heart but manages to chuckle, basking in the aftershocks of a mind-melting session.

her words are slurred, yet satisfied. “did so good, that was so good…love your mouth s'much babe.”

you guffaw, and throw at her through chuckles, “i know, i am the best.” that sends her into a fit of giggles as well, and once she's calmed down she confirms.

“yeah, you really are.”

thanks for reading! comments, reblogs, and asks are appreciated more than you know ♡ if you'd like to be tagged in future works, fill out the form here! until next time ;)

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[abbotjack]

Don't Make Me Someone You Can't Have

pairing : dr. jack abbot x resident!reader (afab!reader)

summary : The fallout didn’t start the day of Pitt Fest—it started when you told Jack Abbot how you felt and he told you he didn’t want you. A week later, grief, jealousy, and everything unsaid ignite into something impossible to bury. (Lowkey inspired by Big Love by Fleetwood Mac—because obviously.)

warnings/content : trauma aftermath (mass casualty event), hospital setting, attending x resident dynamic, mutual pining, emotional repression, angst, jealousy, possessive behavior, verbal rejection, explicit sexual content (f!receiving, protected sex), semi-public/backseat sex, emotionally loaded dialogue, swearing

word count : 4,212

18+ ONLY, not beta read. Please read responsibly.

a/n : I am just so obsessed with Abbot, like oml I do not need a new hyperfixation at this point of the semester but here we are. Hope you guys enjoy this!

There’s blood on your forearms.

Not a lot—just the dried trace of a life you couldn’t save, stuck to your skin even after the first scrub. You’ve already changed out of your soiled gloves and gown. You sanitized twice. But still, you scrub again, because your hands won’t stop shaking and focusing on the motion keeps you upright.

The shooting at Pitt Fest has left the trauma bay soaked with the sound of screams you can’t forget. The floors were slick. Supplies ran out faster than anyone could track. You can still hear the rhythmic buzz of the trauma pager, the overhead call for more gurneys, the shrill monitor that never quieted until it did.

Your white coat is somewhere in the hallway—discarded and stained, a casualty of triage. There’s a bruise blossoming on your cheekbone, just beneath your eye. It’s from when the mother of the boy thrashed in panic, her elbow colliding with your face. You didn’t notice it at first, not until someone pointed it out with a grimace. Said it was turning purple, already swelling. Said you should ice it. You didn’t.

You press harder on your hands.

Jack Abbot hasn’t spoken to you since he snapped orders across the gurney three hours ago, voice razor-sharp, eyes like flint. He’d taken over compressions without blinking. His personal protection gear streaked in blood. His shoulders set like stone. His voice—steady, calm, cold.

You’d hesitated.

Just a second. Maybe less. But he’d seen it.

“You’re too shallow—switch out. Now.”

He hadn’t looked at you when he said it. Just stepped in, hands already moving, chest compressing with the precision of someone who’d done it a hundred times before. Because he has.

He moves like he did on the field. You’ve heard stories—Jack the soldier, desert heat in his lungs, fingers suturing flesh with a kind of brutal grace. You’ve seen glimpses of it before, but tonight? Tonight, it wasn’t a glimpse. It was a full transformation.

You backed away, stunned into silence. Not because he took over. But because of how he did it. Like you were a liability. Like you didn’t belong.

You told yourself it was adrenaline. It wasn’t.

The door creaks open behind you, and you don’t have to turn to know it’s him.

You keep your eyes on the mirror—don’t move, don’t breathe—until his reflection comes into focus beside yours.

His eyes go straight to your cheek.

The bruise.

His posture changes. Shoulders tense, mouth tightening. He doesn’t say anything, but the flicker of something behind his eyes is unmistakable. Not surprise. Not guilt.

Anger. Not at you—but at the fact that you’re hurt.

He doesn’t speak. Just leans against the counter. His eyes flick to your cheekbone again. The bruise is deeper now, ugly in the fluorescent light.

“You paused,” he says finally, voice low.

You dry your hands slowly. The paper towel crinkles between your fingers.

You turn, sharp. “I froze because I’ve never had to treat a gunshot wound in a fifteen-year-old while their mother screamed in my ear.”

You don’t stop.

“She was grabbing my sleeves, pulling at my hands, sobbing and shouting his name—over and over. She kept trying to touch his face. I could barely see where the blood was coming from. I wasn’t even sure where to start.”

Jack doesn’t flinch. “That’s what the job is.”

You laugh, and it sounds like it’s clawing its way out of your chest. “Don’t lecture me on what the job is, Jack. I’ve been here three years. I know what this place does to people.”

His jaw tightens. There’s something in his eyes—anger, maybe. Or guilt. You can’t tell with him. You never can.

He pushes off the counter.

“You think I don’t know what it does to people?”

You don’t answer. You can’t. Not when he steps closer, the air between you tight enough to snap.

“You think I wanted you in the bay?” he asks.

You blink. “What?”

Jack’s voice dips lower. “I saw your name on the call sheet. I almost pulled you off rotation.”

Your breath hitches. “You don’t get to do that.”

He’s close now—too close. He smells like hospital soap and something else beneath it—deep, expensive cologne that cuts through the sterile air. Teakwood. Mahogany. That warm, slightly spiced scent that always lingers a second too long after he leaves a room. Clean. Controlled. Intentionally chosen. Just like him.

“I don’t want to watch you fall apart,” he says.

Your heart slams. The words hit harder than they should, because they’re the first ones he’s offered that sound like anything real. Not just protocol. Not just war-worn discipline.

“I already have,” you whisper. “And you didn’t notice. Not when I told you how I felt. Not when you shut me down like it meant nothing. Like I meant nothing.”

He swallows hard. His posture stiffens.

“You didn’t even look at me after that,” you say, voice shaking. “I told you I had feelings for you, and you acted like I’d crossed some unspoken line. Like caring about you was a mistake I should be embarrassed by.”

Jack doesn’t say anything.

You shake your head, eyes burning. “For you, it’s easier to pretend this thing—whatever it is between us—doesn’t exist than admit you’re scared of something real.”

You don’t have to spell it out. You’ve seen the way he distances himself—the way he locks things down before anyone even gets close. You’ve felt it.

The silence now is a living thing. Loud. Brutal. The air is laced with too many unsaid things.

You can feel it—beneath the calm, beneath the scrub shirt and military precision—Jack is burning.

But he still doesn’t reach for you.

So you do what you always do.

You leave before he can stop you.

You don’t get far.

The trauma bay doors hiss shut behind you and the night air hits your face like a slap—cool, sharp, soaked in hospital exhaust and rain-soaked concrete. You pace once. Twice. You don’t cry.

You breathe. You think you might scream. Instead, you lean back against the cold exterior wall of the hospital and close your eyes. And there it is—the echo of his voice, thick with something too raw to name.

“I don’t want to watch you fall apart.”

But it wasn’t just tonight that gutted you. It started before. When you said too much and he gave you nothing.

It was three days ago. Late enough that the hospital had gone quiet—the kind of quiet where your thoughts get too loud, and nothing feels safe to admit.

You were both at the nurses’ station. Jack sat at one of the desktops, the screen glowing pale blue in front of him, his fingers motionless on the trackpad. You were across from him, one hand hovering over the keyboard, the other absently toying with a pen.

You’d been circling it for weeks—maybe longer. This thing between you. It wasn’t loud. It didn’t need to be. It lived in the quiet, in the unspoken, in the almosts. In the way your skin prickled when he entered a room. The way air shifted when he stood behind you—close, but never touching.

It was in the way his gaze found you during rounds, lingering just a heartbeat too long. The way his voice dipped when he said your name, soft and unreadable—like a secret slipping between his teeth. The way your breath caught when he brushed past you in the hallway, the fabric of his scrubs grazing yours, sending a bolt of something electric down your spine.

It was professional. It had to be. But it never felt neutral.

Every look felt like contact. Every silence, a dare.

The tension wasn’t dramatic. It didn’t need to be. It sat just under the surface—constant, quiet, undeniable. Like gravity. Like something pulling you toward him whether you wanted it or not.

But it wasn’t just you.

Jack watched you, too. Carefully. Deliberately. Like he was trying not to want you and failing anyway. He always looked away too slowly. Cleared his throat when your laugh caught him off guard. Said your name differently than everyone else—lower, rougher, like he was holding it in his mouth too long.

There were moments you caught him looking at you like he was already sorry for it.

Like he knew what it would cost if he gave in.

There were nights you couldn’t sleep without replaying the way his hand brushed yours, or the heat of his body behind you in the elevator, or the flicker of something in his eyes before he shut it down again.

You weren’t supposed to notice.

He wasn’t supposed to let you.

But you did.

And he did.

And both of you kept pretending it wasn’t real—even as it took up more and more space inside your chest.

You hadn’t planned to say anything. You hadn’t rehearsed it. It just… happened.

“I care about you,” you’d said, voice soft but steady. “I’m not trying to ruin anything. I just need you to know.”

Jack didn’t look up. Not at first. He just sat there, shoulders stiff, jaw set like someone had flipped a switch inside him. When he did meet your eyes, it wasn’t with warmth. It was with something colder. Sharper. Like he was bracing for impact.

“This can’t happen,” he’d said. Quiet. Controlled. Like he was reciting a rule he’d memorized a long time ago. “You’re a resident. I’m your attending. You know that.”

You’d nodded, tried to smile, tried to make it easy for him. Tried to act like it didn’t sting.

But he kept going.

“And even if you weren’t… it’s not a good idea.”

He hesitated. Just a second. But enough.

"You don’t know me," he added, eyes hard. "You think you do, but you don’t. You see what I let you see. And that version of me—that's not real."

And then, like he needed to twist the knife just to make sure it stuck :

“Whatever you think this is—I don’t want it. I don’t want you.”

You knew, even as he said it—he didn’t mean it. Not like that. But he wanted it to hurt. Needed it to. Like if he made you hate him, it would make walking away easier. That was the part that stayed with you.

You hadn’t cried then. Not in front of him. You nodded again, eyes dry, throat burning, and told him you understood. But you hadn’t said anything else. Didn’t argue. Didn’t ask him why.

And he hadn’t offered.

Not an apology. Not an explanation.

He hadn’t said a single word to you since—not until today, when his voice finally cut through the chaos to order you off the boy’s chest. Cold. Clinical. Like nothing had ever passed between you at all. Like you were just another resident.

But you’d felt it. In the way he walked into a room and wouldn’t look at you. In the way his voice would hitch when you brushed past. In the way his fists curled tight at his sides, like he wanted to reach for you but refused to let himself.

He was trying to be cold. Trying to keep the line drawn.

And still—still—he’d almost pulled you from trauma rotation tonight.

You open your eyes. The ache in your chest feels ancient. Familiar.

Big love. That’s what it was. The kind that never had a chance to grow, but still bloomed under your skin like it owned you.

And Jack? Jack let it die before it ever had the chance to live.

It’s been a week since Pitt Fest.

The hospital has started to settle into something like normal, but you haven’t. You still flinch when a trauma page comes over the comms. Still hear that mother’s voice, shrill and ragged. Still feel the ghost of Jack’s hand brushing yours when he took over compressions. That wasn’t the moment you broke, but it was the moment you knew you couldn’t pretend anymore.

So tonight, you go out. Against your better judgment.

Whitaker begged you. Santos threatened to show up at your apartment with a bottle of tequila. King and Mohan promised only one drink, just one, come on, you need it. Javadi was supposed to come too, but she bailed last minute—something about studying for boards and not wanting to get caught at another bar underage.

So now it’s the five of you crammed into a booth at this dive bar near the hospital in downtown Pittsburgh, the one with sticky floors and pool tables missing half the balls. The music is too loud, but the company is easy. Whitaker is doing some elaborate retelling of a patient who tried to fake a heart attack to get out of paying his copay. Mohan is crying from laughter. You’re sipping something sweet and strong and trying to let it all melt away.

It’s working.

Until you see him.

Jack.

He’s across the bar, half-shadowed under the neon sign, nursing a beer like he doesn’t want to be seen. But he’s not alone.

Robby’s with him. Of course he is.

They’re leaned in close, not talking much. Just sitting. Watching.

No—he’s watching.

You.

Your drink stills halfway to your mouth. Your stomach twists, not violently, but enough to knock the wind out of you. Jack doesn’t look away. Not immediately. Just holds your gaze like it hurts him. Like it should.

You force yourself to blink, to laugh at something Whitaker says. You pretend your hands aren’t shaking. You pretend you don’t feel your entire body tuning itself to the sound of his silence.

He rejected you. You know that.

But the way he’s looking at you now? It doesn’t feel like rejection.

It feels like longing.

And maybe that’s worse.

You down the rest of your drink in one go. It burns less than it should.

There’s a man at the bar. Mid-forties, maybe older. Salt-and-pepper beard. Expensive watch. He catches your glance and offers a smile that’s a little too polished, a little too practiced—but you return it anyway. Because he’s older. Because he’s sharp-eyed. Because he reminds you, in all the wrong ways, of someone else.

You excuse yourself from the table before anyone can stop you.

You take your drink, your heels, and your broken pride, and you slide onto the stool next to him.

Jack sees. Of course he does.

You make sure he does.

“Can I buy you another?” the man asks, nodding to your empty glass.

You smile. “Yeah. Why not?”

You laugh too easily. Let your shoulder brush his as he leans in. He says something you don’t hear because your pulse is thundering in your ears.

Across the bar, Jack’s jaw is tight. His hand clenches around his beer bottle, the label peeling beneath his thumb.

You tilt your head back and laugh again—this time louder, brighter, crueler.

Because if you’re going to hurt, you want him to feel it too.

And he does.

You can see it in the way he breaks eye contact first.

You can see it in the way Robby says something and Jack doesn’t respond.

You can see it in the way he stands up a minute later, like he can’t stand to watch anymore.

But he doesn’t leave.

He moves.

Across the bar. Slow, deliberate. Controlled rage in every step.

Robby calls after him, eyebrows lifted, confused—but Jack doesn’t answer.

He stops a foot away from you, the stranger mid-sentence, and you feel it before you even look up—heat rolling off of him like a storm about to break.

“Can I talk to you?” Jack says. Voice low. Measured. Barely held together.

You arch an eyebrow, take a long sip of your drink. “Busy.”

The man beside you glances between the two of you, sensing something sharp in the air. He doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t need to.

Jack’s eyes are locked on yours. Not the stranger’s. Not anyone else’s.

“You need to come with me,” he says, lower now. “Now.”

And it’s not a command. It’s not even a plea. It’s desperation wrapped in control, fraying at the edges.

You consider refusing. You want to.

But you rise anyway.

And follow him out the door.

The air outside is colder than you expected. Or maybe that’s just him.

Jack doesn’t speak right away. He walks fast—toward the lot behind the bar, where his car is parked beneath a crooked streetlamp. When he finally stops, it’s with his back to you. One hand on his hip, the other raking through his hair. The kind of stillness that comes right before something breaks.

You follow, heart hammering. He turns.

“What the hell was that?”

Your arms fold across your chest. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

His eyes flash. “The guy. The flirting. You were trying to—”

“Trying to what?” you snap. “Move on? Isn’t that what you wanted?”

Jack exhales, sharp and uneven. “You don’t get it.”

“No, Jack. I really don’t. You said this couldn’t happen. You told me to forget it, forget you. And then you stare at me like that? Like you’ve got any right to be angry?”

“I’m not angry,” he bites out. “I’m—”

“Don’t lie to me.”

Silence stretches. You can hear the distant music from inside, laughter spilling through the front entrance. But here? It’s just you and him, and everything you haven’t said.

“I didn’t want to do that to you,” he says finally, voice frayed. “Push you away. I just… I didn’t know how else to make it stop.”

Your voice lowers. “Why would you want it to stop?”

He steps forward once. Close, but not touching. His hands stay at his sides like he’s afraid of what will happen if he reaches for you.

“Because it scares the shit out of me,” Jack says. “Because you matter more than you should. And because I don’t trust myself not to fuck that up.”

Your heart twists. “So instead you say things to make me hate you?”

“I thought if you hated me, it would be easier for both of us.”

You laugh—soft, bitter. “It’s not.”

His voice breaks. “I know.”

You look at him. Really look at him. There’s pain there—old and festering. The kind that has nothing to do with you and everything to do with whatever he’s been dragging behind him since the war, since before.

You take a breath. “So what now?”

Jack steps even closer. You can feel the heat of him again. His eyes drop to your mouth, then snap back up like he’s furious with himself for even looking.

“You came out here,” you say.

“I didn’t want to watch someone else touch you,” he admits.

“Then don’t make me someone you can’t have.”

There’s a beat.

And then he’s kissing you.

Rough. Desperate. Like he’s been holding it in for years and it’s finally breaking loose. You answer it without hesitation, fisting your hands in his shirt, dragging him down like you’re daring him to finally stop pretending.

He presses you back against the car, one hand braced beside your head, the other gripping your waist like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded. His mouth is on yours—hungry, ragged—like if he slows down, this will disappear.

“Back seat,” he growls. His voice scrapes through your chest.

He opens the rear door behind you, hand never leaving your hip, guiding you with him. You climb in first, crawling across the backseat with your heart in your throat. By the time you turn, he’s already sliding in after you, pulling the door shut behind him with a solid, final thud.

He grabs your face with both hands and kisses you again, harder this time, like his life depends on it. You climb into his lap, straddling him now, knees on either side of his thighs, your bodies pressed close and flushed with heat. He shoves your coat off your shoulders, pushes your shirt up. You tug his top over his head and toss it somewhere in the car.

“God,” he mutters, eyes raking over you. “You’ve been driving me insane.”

“Then do something about it.”

He does.

He unhooks your bra with one hand—like muscle memory—his mouth already on your chest, teeth and tongue working in tandem. His other hand splays across your lower back, holding you close as your hips grind down into his.

You’re panting. He’s shaking.

You reach between you, working open his belt, and feel him throb beneath the fabric. Jack shudders when your hand slips inside, groaning low into your skin.

“Wallet,” he mutters against your neck, voice breathless. “Inside pocket.”

You grab it. Your fingers move fast, practiced by adrenaline. You find the condom tucked there, tear it open, and hand it to him. His eyes meet yours as he rolls it on—slow, deliberate. Controlled, even now.

You brace yourself on his shoulders and lower down onto him, taking him inch by inch until he’s seated fully inside you.

The stretch burns in the best way. You gasp. He swears.

You don’t move. Not yet.

He kisses your jaw, your collarbone. Holds your hips steady with both hands like he’s savoring the feel of you. And when you start to move—hips rolling slow and deep—he leans his head back and groans your name like it’s the only word he knows.

“You feel—fuck, you feel like heaven,” he breathes.

You ride him hard, your rhythm building, mouths colliding again and again between moans. His grip bruises your thighs as he thrusts up to meet every movement, his control slipping with every second you stay on top of him.

Then suddenly—he shifts.

His arms wrap under your thighs, and in one smooth, powerful motion, he lifts you.

You gasp as he turns, guiding you onto your back across the seat. He stays inside you the whole time, never letting go, until your back hits the cool leather and he’s towering over you, braced between your legs.

“You okay?” he asks, breath ragged.

You nod, already whining for more.

Then he starts to move again—deep, relentless, rocking the car with every thrust.

He shifts, bracing one hand beneath your thigh to push your leg higher, opening you up to take him deeper. The angle hits something devastating—you cry out, fingers clutching at his shoulders.

Jack leans down, mouth hot at your neck, breath ragged.

“You’re mine,” he says, voice cracked and raw. “Say it.”

“Yours,” you gasp. “I’m yours, Jack.”

His hand slides down your side, gripping your hip for leverage—then slips between your bodies. His fingers find your clit and start to circle, firm and focused, his pace never faltering.

It sends you over the edge.

You break apart beneath him—back arching, thighs trembling, his name ripped from your mouth like a prayer you didn’t know you were saying.

You’re still shaking when he comes—groaning into your shoulder, his rhythm faltering as he buries himself deep one last time and lets go.

Afterward, you don’t speak right away.

You’re tangled together. His chest is against yours. His arms still hold you like he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he loosens his grip. Your heartbeat stutters beneath his palm. The windows are fogged, the car soaked in heat and the weight of everything that just happened.

You stroke a hand through the back of his hair, calming him more than you.

Finally, he shifts, settling beside you, your body still half-curled on top of him.

And quietly, you say:

“I followed you out because I thought you were going to leave again.”

He freezes.

You feel his breath catch against your shoulder.

“You left once,” you say. “After I told you how I felt. You didn’t look at me. Didn’t say anything. Just made it clear I’d imagined all of it. And tonight? I thought you were about to do it again.”

His voice is tight when he finally speaks.

“I almost did.”

You nod slowly. “Why didn’t you?”

Jack exhales hard. “Because I saw you with him, and I knew—if I walked away again, I wouldn’t just lose you. I’d be choosing to.”

He turns your face toward him.

“And I couldn’t live with that.”

You search his expression. His hand brushes a strand of hair from your face, and then settles on your cheek.

“I tried to kill it,” he says. “Tried to convince myself it wasn’t real. But it is. And it’s too big to ignore.”

“Big love,” you whisper.

He nods. “Yeah. The kind that burns everything else down.”

You press your forehead to his.

“I waited. Through all of it—every time you pretended you didn’t feel this, too.”

His eyes close. Like the truth hurts more than anything else tonight.

“I don’t know how to want you without wanting all of it,” he admits.

And you don’t need him to explain what all of it means.

The chaos. The risk. The weight.

You nod. “Good. Because I don’t want halfway.”

He leans in—presses a kiss to your cheek, then your lips, soft now. Careful.

And finally—finally—he says, “Then I won’t run anymore.”

You believe him.

But only because Big Love doesn’t let you run.

It lives. Loud. Messy. Permanent.

And tonight, in the heat of a parked car, Jack finally lets it have him.

[lilianne-tarot]

PICK A CARD: WHO ARE YOU GONNA DATE NEXT? ᯓ★

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦

I. II. III.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦

How to Pick Your Pile: Take a deep breath, clear your mind, and look at the images below. Which one pulls you in the most? Trust your gut! Once you choose the image, The number below your chosen image is your pile. If more than one catches your eye, that just means there’s extra tea for you, go ahead and read both!

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MY MASTERLIST🫶🏻

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦

⋆✴︎˚⋆ Pile I

OH- OHHHHHHHHH (I HAD to do this🤓) The moment I flipped these cards, I had to take a deep breath because WOW this spread is screaming romance, romance, ROMANCEThe energy here? Soft, dreamy, emotionally available, and actually willing to communicate their feelings like a functioning adult. (Shocking, I know.) This is the kind of person who has main character energy, but not in an obnoxious "look at me" way, more like a "low-key mysterious but actually an absolute sweetheart who accidentally makes people fall in love with them" type. They are also giving ‘hopeless romantic with a heart of gold’ vibes, but also kinda shy and dorky at times.

They’re deeply in touch with their emotions, thanks to all this Cups energy, which means they feel things deeply. We’re talking someone who sends you “thinking of you” texts just because, who remembers tiny details about you that even you forgot, and who probably makes killer playlists based on your mood. (OML😭) They might even be the type to write poetry or play an instrument. (If this person owns a guitar and has ever strummed it while looking out of a window dramatically, I will scream.) They’re also super romantic. They believe in love. Like, BELIEVE believe. They’re not out here for some casual nonsense; they’re here for the feels. If they’ve been hurt before, they’re still hopeful and open to love instead of being bitter. (We love emotional maturity.) Physically i am seeing doe-eyed, soft-smiling, artistic cutie vibes. BABE. BABE. This relationship is so soft, so wholesome, so emotionally fulfilling, if yall are people who had a relationship where you felt like you didn't even exist to the person then this NEXT relationship is totally different. You know how in movies there’s always that one couple who makes everyone else sick with how adorable they are? Yeah, that’s y’all (i’m really NOT jealous) . They’re also a partner in every sense of the word meaning they work with you, not against you. . If you’re struggling, they’re there to support you. If they’re struggling, you’ll actually know about it because they communicate. (A rare species, truly.) They’re most prolly a Water sign/ has strong water placements or just very emotionally intuitive. If you have someone with these placements around you, then this is your sign.  3 out of 4 cards are cups so i believe Y’all might bond over something artistic, music, painting, poetry, photography, film, something that requires emotions to create.They fall fast and hard, so if you’re used to people who are distant or confusing, this is gonna feel like a whole new world. This is the kind of love that feels like a warm hug after a long day, safe, sweet, and real. 

this person is a walking green flag. Soft but passionate. Romantic but stable. Playful but serious about love. This is the kind of relationship that feels safe and exhilarating at the same time, like home, but with butterflies. If you’ve been manifesting someone emotionally available, thoughtful, and ready to go all in for you…well, here they come. Oh, and one last thing, the fact that three out of four cards are Cups? That’s no accident. This person is MEANT to stir up your emotions and bring you into a deeper love experience. It’s not just about dating; it’s about feeling something real again.

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─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

⋆✴︎˚⋆Pile II

First off, this person? Chaotic. But like, in the best way possible. The Fool and Page of Cups together are giving ✨ golden retriever energy ✨ with just a sprinkle of emotionally confused poet vibes. They’re the type to send you ten unhinged tiktok totally out of the blue with no explanation, and then disappear for three hours because they had an unexpected emotional breakdown. I had a friend like that who used to do this, and trust me these kind of people are strangely ADORABLE. They’re playful, optimistic, and have this lowkey naive, wide-eyed way of looking at life, but don’t be fooled, Strength is here, meaning they know how to handle their emotions. They just choose to exist in this dreamy, slightly reckless way.  I’m getting someone with a youthful look, no matter their actual age. Soft features, expressive eyes that basically scream “I have deep thoughts but I get distracted by cute dogs”, 

Okay, so, Page of Cups and 7 of Swords? Babe… this is giving situationship that could turn into a masterpiece or a disaster, depending on how you play it. There’s gonna be a lot of dreamy, flirty, almost cinematic moments where you’re both caught up in the fantasy of each other. But here’s the thing, with 7 of Swords meaning, there’s a hidden element to this person. Not necessarily in a bad way, but you might feel like they’re holding something back. Strength is telling me you might end up being the one keeping this relationship stable, because this person? Yeah, they’re fun, romantic, and spontaneous, but they need someone who grounds them. Otherwise, they’ll float off into whatever alternate reality they live in. You might find yourself teaching them how to actually deal with their feelings instead of turning everything into an inside joke or a quirky monologue.

This connection? It’s got potential. I was getting ‘JUST KISS ALREADY’ vibes from this spread so many times. But also, This person might have commitment issues at first, or they just don’t realize when they’ve caught feelings. This relationship will be fun, unexpected, and maybe a little messy at times. You’ll never be bored, but you might have to decide if you’re willing to wait for them to fully step up and be emotionally present. If you do? This could turn into one of those soulmate-tier love stories that start off as chaotic best friends and then evolve into something real. This person is gonna make you laugh so hard your stomach hurts, and you’re gonna make them feel like home. Just make sure they don’t get lost in the clouds before they realize what they have with you. 

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─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

⋆✴︎˚⋆ Pile III

Picture someone who walks into a room and the air literally shifts, not in a dramatic, "I’m better than you" way, but in that "damn, why does this person feel like a wish come true?" kind of way. The Star as the headliner of this spread? BABY, this person is ethereal. 

They’ve been through their fair share of life lessons, some of them painful as hell, but instead of becoming bitter, they’ve transmuted all that pain into wisdom and grace. (Honestly, teach me your ways, mysterious heartthrob.) They’re a dreamer, but not the delusional kind. I have a strong feeling that pile 3 already know their person at the very least, they’re connected to your past in a really poetic way. The 6 of Cups is screaming, "This ain't no random fling, this is destiny, baby!" There’s a familiarity about them, like the feeling of revisiting your childhood home after years of being away. There’s also a chance that this person is deeply sentimental, they might keep old love letters, hoard little trinkets from meaningful moments, or be the type to remember the exact date you first texted them "lol" and took it as a sign from the universe. They’re romantic, but in a quiet, "let me show you, not just tell you" kinda way.

Physically? ELEGANT. LUXURIOUS. GOURGEOUS. 10/10. I also have the feeling that for some of you, this person might be quite rich as well. They could be successful or at least super stable and independent, but there’s something soft and sentimental about them like they love deeply but don’t fall easily. One thing i would say that they don't fall easily. 4 of the Pentacles is telling me that they guard their heart like a bank vault. Not in a "toxic, emotionally unavailable" way, but in a "I don’t just give my energy to anyone, I need to be sure" kinda way. They might be financially stable or working towards major success, so they protect what they’ve built. At first, they might be reserved, taking their sweet time to open up, but once they do? BABY, THEY’RE ALL IN. Slow-burning but SO rewarding. This is the kind of love that feels like déjà vu, like you were meant to find each other.  And the thing is, you’re worth the risk to them. Your connection makes them feel safe enough to let go of their tight grip on control. This isn’t a surface-level situationship, this is intentional, slow-burning, "I want to build something real with you" love.

(Also, be ready for someone who spoils you subtly, not in a flashy, Gucci gifts every day kinda way, but in "I remembered you liked that indie artist, so I got us front-row tickets" kinda way. 🥹) BUT one more thing, also think They’re going to be verrryyy slow to say ‘I love you’—but when they do? Oh, it means something. This is the kind of person who will show you they love you 100 different ways before they ever say it out loud.

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─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Thank you so much for reading all the way through! I hope my reading resonated with you and that you had a lovely time going through it. If you enjoyed it, please like and reblog, it really means a lot! Let me know which pile you chose; I absolutely love hearing your thoughts and feedback on my readings! If my reading resonated you, you may consider buying my paid reading as it would really help me out financially♡

Note: tarot cards provide guidance and possible insights into what could happen based on current energies, thoughts, and actions. the cards can highlight potential paths or outcomes, but they do not fixedly predict the future. this is a general reading so take what resonates!

[ddejavvu]

hiii, oml I saw that you wanted requests for marauders and this one has been itching my brain. so I’d love to know their reactions if their s/o did something disgusting, maybe just eating a weird food combo, my friends always look at me weird because I like eating chicken nuggets and fries with chocolate ice cream, or could just be smth like eating food that fell on the floor, not sure what comes to your mind but whatever you want! thank youuu and have a good day!

"She's doing it again." Sirius's nose scrunches, and he looks firmly away from where you're layering thick, melting layers of peanut butter over a warm cheese sandwich.

"Oh, darling-" James glances up at the ceiling like it'll distract him, but he can still hear the squelching of the peanut butter trying and failing to mingle with the greasy cheese. "We've talked about this."

"It's my favorite!" You plead, sucking a smear of peanut butter off of the pad of your thumb, "You guys eat gross stuff all the time, I don't understand why you always have to get on me about mine!"

"Because it's disgusting." James declares with a tone of finality you'd hear from a professor, "Peanut butter and cheese do not mix. Literally, darling, look at that. The cheese is rejecting the peanut butter. It's trying to save itself from its unholy fate."

The cheese has melted but is starting to harden again, a greasy seal around the gooey melted parts that's preventing the peanut butter from blending fully. But it's no matter, it'll mix in your mouth. You're well aware that your culinary preferences are not for everyone, but you'd like to eat one meal without probing from your dining partners.

"It's pretty gross." Remus admits with a grimace, like he's reluctant to tease you but just can't hold himself back, "It sort of makes my stomach hurt just watching."

"You eat live rabbits," You round on Remus with a piercing glare, "I watched you skin a rat down to the bone. I don't ever want to hear you talk about my eating habits. And you," You direct your attention to Sirius, "Frequently chew on sticks. From the woods. From the dirty, filthy, nasty woods. And you!" James looks like he's prepared for this, to take a turn facing your wrath, "You scoop food up off of the floor! Any floor! The five-second rule should not apply in a dusty dungeon corridor."

You raise the sandwich, dripping with peanut butter and oil, like it's your trophy. You take a triumphant bite while your horrified onlookers find themselves unable to look away, and you speak proudly through a full mouth, "Mine's not raw, bloody, dirty, or dusty, so you can all shut your mouths if you've not got sticks or rabbits in them."

[lavandulawrites]

Yandere HSR Men With a Darling Who Catches them Kill Part 1

Yandere Anaxa x reader, yandere Argenti x reader, yandere Aventurine x reader, yandere Blade x reader

This will be in 5 parts with 4 characters each part:) When all the parts are finished, I will put all the drabbles in one big post;) I got slightly carried away with Aventurine’s part

Masterlist

Warnings: murder, dead dove do not eat, gore, graphic description of murder, obsession, possessiveness, overprotective behaviour, they’re all such simps oml, delusional behaviour, the yanderes are all insane, manipulation, reader does not get hurt

Word count: 2632

Anaxa

Being a well known professor had its perks. One of them being that trust was something people granted one rather freely. Anaxa had at first wanted to use his immense brainpower to lure the rotten man to him, but the said man had come to him rather willingly. He had placed great trust in the sage and his admiration was clear as the endless day in Okhema. The man’s name was uninteresting and a name that tasted like bile whenever the teal-haired man uttered it.

Whenever they spoke, his blood boiled within his veins like molten lava and he wanted nothing more than to claw out the man’s eyes with his fingernails. His idiocy was insulting, but it was something Anaxagoras could use to his advantage.

The biggest mistake the poor excuse of a man had made was ruining you with his touch and words. The professor had seen the way the man had make you uncomfortable and he had heard on countless occasions that you only viewed the man as a acquaintance. However, this seemed to fly over the man’s head as he continued to pester you. Anaxa had grown tired and a well deserved punishment was due.

The sun was high on the sky and warm wind ruffled Anaxagoras’ hair. His lone eye was plastered to the form of the man as he wiped his for head with the back of his hand. Sweat was sticking to his disgusting neck as he wheezed. “I must say, I didn’t take you for the hiking type” he barked out a disgust laughter that made Anaxa narrow his eye in pure disgust.

“Hmm… Well I am” his reply was curt and with a biting edge. Two minutes till they reached the destination. Then Anaxa could finally rid the world of that pest. The dagger in his coat pocket was heavy and ready to be used. So far everything had gone according to his calculations.

The plateau was filled with lush grass and multiple wildflowers in pastel colours. The wind was stronger up there and it caused Anaxa’s eye to become watery. Normally that would have annoyed him greatly, but not now.

As the man peered down over the edge and onto the ground far below, Anaxagoras stalked forward with quick and silent steps. His dagger was raised high above his head and he brought it down onto the man’s back with enough force for it to completely impale him. The man screamed as blood splattered across the baby pink flowers underneath him. He gurgled on his own disgusting blood as he collapsed on his front. He was only a meter from the edge and it was dangerously tempting for Anaxa to just kick him down, but he knew better.

A choked cry sounded across the cliff. “Anaxa… what is this?” you asked with a quivering voice. Anaxa smiled at you gently. His eye dark as the wave of darkness that threatened Amphoreus.

He stalked towards you with slow steps. His demeanour was confident. “My dear, do not worry. He won’t hurt you anymore” he spoke with a soft tone as his bloodied hands found yours. His grip was tight, yet gentle.

“Hurt me?” you asked while tears streamed endlessly down your cheeks.

Anaxa’s expression shifted to surprise before it went back to the soft look that always made you feel warm inside. “Don’t tell me you weren’t aware?”

You blinked at him “Aware? What do you mean Anaxa? I don’t understand…”

His fingers gently wiped away your tears. “He had been planning to stab you to death, [Name]. I am sorry you had to see this. But it had to be done. I couldn’t let him take away the most important person in my life. I couldn’t let him take away you, the most precious person there is” he pulled you into a hug. Your face against his throat as he hugged you tightly as if you were his life line. You hugged him back, grateful that he had saved you from your doom. Grief filled you. How could you ever doubt him? Anaxa had always tried to protect you, it was for the best if you listened to him. For had he ever lied to you?

Argenti

The smell of fresh roses mixed together with the suffocating smell of blood filled the air. The Knight of Beauty danced in an almost sensual tango with his trusted lance. Petals from the rose bushes soared in the air, quickly accompanied by crimson splatter that held similarity with red rain. The scene was just like the paintings one could find in the most grand museums.

With a quick and precise movement the blade of the lance sliced through the man’s chest, causing blood to spurt out like a hot and sticky fountain.

Argenti sneered at the pure ugliness of the man who had so greedily touched you with his sinful hand. How dared he dirty your beauty which such utter filth? The knight raised his heavy foot and stomped on the man’s bloodied chest. His heel dug into his skin and at the satisfying crunch of a broken rib caused his lips to stretch out into a crazed smile. Oh how he was going to enjoy ripping him apart. The universe was better of without such grotesque ugliness.

A shrill scream broke Argenti out of his bloodthirsty trance. His sage eyes widened. He could recognise that voice everywhere. He slowly turned his head and was met with your tear ridden face.

“My beautiful rose… what brings you here?” Argenti’s voice was a mixture of panic and admiration. His face softened at the sigh of you. Oh Idrila were you beautiful.

“Wh-what have you done Argenti?” your voice was shaky as you choked halfway through your sentence. Your eyes were as red as the blood that still poured out from the dead man.

The red-haired knight smiled gently as he shook his head. “My dear, this is no place for you. You really were not meant to see such horrible things” as quickly as lighting he had pulled you within his arms. His muscular form tightly pressed against you. He kissed the crown of your head as he murmured soft praise of your beauty. A gentle gloved hand gently raised your head so that you could meet his striking eyes. “Let’s go home. The ‘One and Only’ is waiting for us” soft lips pressed against your cheek in a gentle kiss. It made you wonder if he believed he would break you had he put any more pressure. And who knows, maybe he would?

The trek back to the spaceship was silent and suffocating. At first you had tried to stifle your cries, but after a while you did not care if he heard.

The gentle knight you once knew was gone, and all that was left was a hauntingly beautiful beast whose love was darker and more dangerous than any creatures in the vast universe.

Aventurine

“I will give you two options. Either you play a round of poker or-” the blonde man puled out a sleek black gun from the inner pocket of his luxurious turquoise blazer. The gun gleamed ominously in the lighting of the casino. “Or, I shoot you right now. Your choice!” his grinned. His canines oddly threatening.

The man swallowed hardly at the sight of the gun, before he forced a faux confident smile. “I chose the first option, poker.”

“Very well” Aventurine put the gun back in the pocket with a smirk. “I take it that you know the rules?”

“I do” the man nodded.

“Great!” Aventurine beamed

It didn’t take long for the man to realise his loss was inevitable. His hand was utter shit. Aventurine won the game with a royal flush. The air deflated from the man’s body as he stared down on the poker table in defeat.

“It seems that I won” the Stoneheart’s cheery voice sliced through the silence like a sharp knife.

“Why… Why do you do this? What have I done? Is it the money I borrowed? I payed you back some weeks ago! I know it was overdue, but I still payed you!” the man’s voice was frantic as he shook his head in disbelief.

“Why you ask?” Aventurine’s voice was like ice. “I will tell you why” he leaned over the table “It’s about [Name]. Do you seriously think you can take away the love of my life? Are you really that stupid? You are going to pay for what you have done. It’s only fair” his voice was laced with enough poison to kill a grown man. In the blink of an eye the gambler’s expression had changed from deadly to friendly. “Oh don’t be sad my friend! I promise I will show you mercy!” he chuckled.

“No! Please no! I beg of you! I promise I will never be near [Name] ever again! You have my word! Just please!” the man fell to his knees begging, the chair tumbled over as a result of his sudden movements. Fat tears ran down his disgusting face as he begged to be spared.

Aventurine’s handsome face twisted into disgust and pure hatred as he started down his nose at the begging man. “I have your word, hmm? As if that is good enough. You have already wasted my time enough. I have a date with [Name], and I cannot bear to have my jewel waiting” harsh words echoed across the dark lit room.

Aventurine rose from his seat. He stretched his limbs like a cat. In a blink of an eye the black gun was pointed at the man. Long fingers pulled the safety of. The sound of two gunshots rang through the thick air. The man wailed as he fell back onto his back. Blood poured out from the wounds on his knees. The flesh was ripped open and the white bone was clear on display.

Unhinged giggles fell from the blonde man’s lips.

Aventurine crouched down, his fingers running through the blood splatter. The blood was warm on his finger as he lifted his hand up to the light. “I am so glad you said yes to my invitation. It really saved me the trouble of dragging you here myself” he smeared the crimson liquid between his fingertips. “It was a fun game, my friend” his words were bittersweet, but deadly.

Back on his feet, Aventurine aimed the gun at the man’s head. With a wide grin and maddening eyes, h spilled the trigger. The gun recoiled in his hand and he almost shuddered. The bullet pierced straight through the man’s forehead and through his thick skull. The back of his head was blown off and onto the newly polished dark wooden floors. The bullet-hole started back at Aventurine like a dark abyss. Pink brain matter was shatter across the mean and it look oddly similar to some of the jelly candies that were awfully popular.

The door swung open and Aventurine’s heart stopped for a second. Fuck. Quicker than lighting he pulled his suit jacket off and laid it over the body’s head and shoulders. It was a nice jacket and it pained him to ruin it, but he could just by a new one. However, you getting traumatised was not something he could undo.

With long steps he was at the door. You creaked the door opened and smiled when you were met with the beautiful eyes of the man you loved.

“Hi Aventurine!” you greeted him with your beautiful smile.

Aventurine’s heart fastened at your precious smile. Oh the Aeons, how he loved you. “Hi [Name]-”

“Aventurine what is that?” your interrupted him with a silent tone.

Oh he was fucked. “It’s nothing really. Are you ready for our date?”

“Is he dead? God please tell me he isn’t. Did you do this?” you clasped your hand over your mouth as you watched the body with wide eyes.

Aventurine sighed. It was too late to make you unsee what you had seen, so why not just tell you the truth?

“Yes. He was more a monster than man, so don’t feel bad, my darling” strong arms wrapped around your trembling form. He pulled your head towards his chest so you could not see the horrors that was the deceased man.

“Don’t worry, nothing will ever hurt you. Not as long as I live. I will bring hell on earth if someone as much as touch you. I love you [Name]” his words was the only thing that echoed through your mind. Every other thoughts was drowned out by his honeyed voice.

Blade

The sound of a blade swung through the air filled the deserted clearing. The grass underneath the Stellaron Hunter’s shoes was stained red by the countless bodies that strewn out. Lifeless eyes gazed up at the black night sky. Stars were scattered across the horizon as the watched the scene unfold. The cold light of the moon shone on the dark blue hair of the swordsman as he moved effortlessly. He was brutal, but there was a certain terrifying beauty in him.

As the last man fell to the ground in his own puddle of blood, Blade breathed out. A cruel smile formed on his lips as he took in the sight with glee. 11 men he had cut through. It had been rather easy, easier than he would have liked, but that could not be blamed from such incompetent men.

He stopped by a seemingly blond man (it was hard to tell with all the blood). The man had plead for his life and it had only brought Blade annoyance. He had especially enjoyed tearing him limb for limb.

The men had all been to the same bar that you had been to a few nights before. They have all tried hitting on you and you had kindly rejected them all. The sight had made Blade’s blood boil, but he knew he couldn’t do anything, at least not yet. Not when he had promised to take a few days off to spend some time with you.

He had lured them to the clearing within the dense woods and slain them on after the other. Despite being filled with anger and pure hatred, it was rather therapeutic.

The sound of a twig snapping was enough to pull him out of his thoughts. A smile played on his lips. Finally.

You stopped at the foot at the clearing. Your eyes wide and your mouth agape. Your eyes found his blood red ones. Tears escaped your gaze and they plopped down onto the grass. Blade’s breath was caught in his throat as he watched you. God were you beautiful. Almost too beautiful to be real. A part of him felt bad for letting you see the massacre, but the other part of him knew it was for the best. You needed to know that he would protect you no matter what and that nothing would ever come between the two of you.

“I will always protect you. They had it coming” despite his gruff voice, his words had a softness to them. A softness that was unexpected.

Your eyes darted over the bodies, over the marred faces that were missing skin and revealing tendons and muscles for the world to see.

Suddenly, like the quickness of his trusted blade, he was beside you. A bandaged hand pushed hair out of your face as crimson eyes started down on you with adoration and love. His hand was dry despite the bloodiness of the field.

“I will keep you safe. I promise” he pulled you into a gentle hug that was so uncharacteristic of him that it made you blink through your tears. “I love you.”

[deepestnightcolor]

Oml I love your writing, I just binged all the Sam fics! I saw you take requests for Harvey 👀 any chance for a “confidential check up?”

Hello, dear anon!~ Thank you so much for both the compliment and request. This was my first time writing a full-blown Harvey fic - and I hope I did suffice :D

Thanks for your request, and thank you so much for your time and love! <3

ᴀ/ɴ: as I said, this is my first time writing a Harvey fic and I am still sick, so I hope it will suffice!!

PS: I hid two Easter eggs this time. >:)

PPS: maybe 2,5, one being a slight nod at @sashiavi >:))

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Harvey (SDV) x Fem!eader

ᴡᴄ: 4194 words

ᴍᴅɴɪ ✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: medical misconduct, unprotected sex, light nipple play, seductive reader, Harvey's a little insecure.

☾ ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ, ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ, ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴀ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴅʏ ☽

A secret that you'd never share? Simple and carnal, your secret was. Primitive, even. You had only made the appointment with Doctor Harvey to finally wrap the man around your finger.

You had tried it fair and square at first, you seriously had! Coming by whenever he had time, bringing him little gifts you were sure he'd like; trying to engage him in conversation.

However, Harvey always seemed so busy, so professional. Telling you to take care and stay healthy and giving you advice on how you achieve just that. Always looking out for you, always gentle in his words and behavior. And by Yoba, it made you want to break him even more.

Also, what better way was there to implement your plan than to catch the little lamb where it felt the safest and most confident? Of course, it was a little unfair, pretending you needed his help and skills to treat an injury, but then again you did. Just not in the way Harvey would expect. He had loads of chances to get the hint, but nothing had worked. Not even when you had fished out the shortest skirt possible out of your closet and wore it with a top that left barely anything to one's imagination, accidentally falling on your knees right in front of Harvey, showing off those lace panties of yours. No, that hadn't worked either. Harvey had let out a gasp that made you believe you had finally done something to him, just to rush to your side and ask if you were okay. If you needed help, if you were dizzy. Fuck did you want to cry out that you were dizzy for him, his touch. Instead, you gave him a sweet smile, fluttering your lashes at him as you told him no, you were fine. But thank you so much, Harvey!

You had scrambled to your feet and made your way back to the farm with your head hanging, and that was the point you decided it would probably need to be all or nothing.

“So, what brings you here today? Maru only noted that you requested to see me. I hope you didn't hurt yourself?” Harvey asked, scooting closer on his rolling chair. You were already propped up on the table, smiling sweetly at Harvey.

You had picked out an excellent outfit for the day, if you were allowed to say so. A blouse that was easy to open up and discard, and a skirt that seemed modest enough yet was nothing but of the mere purpose of covering up your lack of panties. And you were hurting. Terribly so, even. For him.

“Nono, Doc. I just, you know. I've been feeling some kind of way. Under the weather, you might say.” You leaned forward a bit now, running your fingers through your hair before twirling a strand around your finger. You were met with a pair of green-brown eyes, so full of consideration and empathy. It made you want to just sit on his face and make him spill all of his care onto your sweet pussy until you could feel it in every part of your body.

“I see! And how does that show? Do you have a headache? Do you feel more tired than usual?”

So sweet and caring, Doctor Harvey. Too cute to not bite.

You let out a sigh as if you were contemplating, biting around on your lower lip. “No, that's not it. I don't know how to describe it, it's…embarrassing.”

The doctor looked up at you again, putting away his notepad now. He gave you a sweet, genuine smile. A hand landed on your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"There’s absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about. This is a safe, confidential space; nothing will leave these walls.”

Go on, little lamb. Step right into the trap.

You leaned back a bit, pushing out your chest now. “Well, it's my chest. It's been so…so tender lately.”

A hum. That's all you got. A hum. Or so you thought. Because if you looked closely, you could see more. His moustache was twitching as his eyes flickered down to your breasts. Harvey was a professional, though. He quickly cleared his throat, nodding at you.

“Alright, I will glad- I would be happy- let's take a look, shall we?”

It took a lot from you to not break out in a grin; having the man break out in a stutter like that? It definitely was a step forward.

“Yes, please.” You needed to pretend to be innocent now - you didn't want to scare him away, after all.

Your fingers were quick to unbutton your shirt and your upper body was already bare before the doctor could even properly turn back to you. For a moment, his motions seemingly stuttered to a halt, his hands still clasped together from rubbing the disinfectant on them.

His moustache twitched again as he approached you, taking a seat on the chair again.

“Alright, my hands might be a little cold from the disinfectant, but I should be quick.”

Fuck, you hoped that he wouldn't be. You gave him a nod and what you hoped to be a shy smile, pushing your chest towards him a little.

And then, finally…Fucking finally you felt tender fingers on the soft skin of your breasts. It left you breathless for a moment, helpless as he traced the curves of your tits so expertly.

The moan falling from your lips really wasn't an accident, but Harvey, dear sweet Harvey, decided to let you off the hook. Ever the gentleman, wasn't he?

“Did that hurt?” He asked, his eyes flickering up to you, gently squeezing the flesh again. This time you looked straight into his eyes as you moaned, licking your lips. “No, it just…tingles,” you grinned, eyes following Harvey's dropping hands with dismay. 

“Well, I did not find any lumps or irritations that could explain the tenderness. Did any lifestyle changes happen? Or perhaps a new medication?” 

Pretending to be thinking, you swung your legs back and forth. One of your feet got in contact with his shin, slowly tracing upwards only to slide down again.

The man’s face was stoic, eyes trained on your face with a stern look. 

Yet again, the twitching of his moustache betrayed him.

The thought that you hadn't responded yet reeled you in a little: “No…Well. Maybe kind of? You know…I've been having, well. Thoughts about someone. Thoughts about them touching me, wanting me,” you began, your foot wandering to his knee.

“Could that be it?”

A blush had spread on his cheeks now, and Yoba did you love to see it. He picked up the notepad and quickly jotted something down, then nodded.

“I assume that could be it-”

“And what do I do about it, Doctor? It hurts, after all.”

Immediately, his attention is  back on you completely. “Hurts? Where?”

A vague pointing to your body made Harvey's hand reach out, touching your stomach. “Here?”

You shook your head, letting your foot wander down again. “Lower.”

His brows furrowed now and he let his hand slide towards your abdomen. “Here? Are they cramps?”

Again, you shook your head.

“Lower.”

He was hesitating now, looking up at you with an uncertainty you had never seen before, and it felt like another small victory.

“Could you…uh. Point me to where it hurts?”

Click - the trap was snapping shut.

It didn't need many words; you opened up your legs without an ounce of hesitation, revealing your cunt, all wet and ready for the doctor. “There.”

Harvey swallowed thickly, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to find the words. Words that wouldn't have him lose his license. It wasn't like he hadn't seen genitals before - much more than one would expect from a small town like this - and he had never been affected. So why was his throat dry now? Why was his heart pounding like this?

“It's getting like this whenever I see handsome men like you, what could that be?”

“It’s getting like…what?” by now he was thankful that he was able to get some words out with his head feeling as light as it did right now.

“I dunno…wet?”

His eyes went straight back to your pussy, staring at it. You were wet. And you looked delicious. But he was a doctor. A professional. He had done so much to be where he was right now!

“Oh! That…uh. That…it- well. It stems from attraction. It's so..so sexual intercourse can happen more easily, you see. All natural. There's no need to worry at all.”

He was pulling back, this damn professional. Even though you could see that you were getting to him. “But…isn't there a remedy?”

Harvey wanted to just sink into the ground. His head still felt light, and he could feel his pants tighten - he had been mesmerized by you ever since you had introduced yourself. And of course, he had noticed your attempts to catch his attention - he wasn't stupid, after all. Yet Harvey had promised himself. Promised himself to not get too involved anymore. And now you were here. Exposed, and seemingly ready for him. So close but- he had to be strong. Be a doctor.

“Well, for one…You could do some self-care. Masturbation is quite healthy for the human body and mind.”

Like hell he'd recommend you to have sex with someone else, not even someone like him could be so professional. You called him handsome after all, for crying out loud!

“Oh! And…how does that work?” 

Your patience was running thin now, but you felt like you were so close to having him where you wanted him, despite him being so oblivious. His face was motionless now as he stared at you, Adam's apple bobbing up and down. He was obviously looking for words.

“I-”

“Come on, Doctor Harvey. You're supposed to help me, aren't you?” You cooed, interrupting the clouding thoughts before they could really rain on him.

“But- that is the thing. I am your Doctor-”

You didn't answer him right away, your hand wandering to your clit first, giving it a gentle flick.

“And what if you prescribed yourself to be my remedy? I think you're the only thing that can help me,” you moaned.

The groan coming from his direction certainly wasn't professional anymore. A hand, now warmer than before, settled on your thigh. “You said it hurts here?” 

Before you could look where his finger was pointing you could feel the pad of it trace through your wet folds. 

“Exactly,” you breathed, spreading your legs a little further. 

“I can't see much,” he murmured, his cock twitching painfully in his pants. “I'd need to clean you up first before I run some more tests...is that okay with you?”

The bobbing of your head was enough for Harvey to finally break down.

He leaned forward faster than he would have guessed from himself, his fingers spreading your folds, and by Yoba, you were wet. All the more reason to examine you closely, wasn’t it? Keeping you healthy wasn’t bad, after all. It was his job. And if that was what it took, he would oblige – for the sake of medicine, of course. Not because of his throbbing cock and the desperate need to taste you on his tongue; not because he was salivating from the thought alone.

His tongue slowly slipped out of his mouth, a sliver of hesitation lingering in the air. He could see your hole contract when you thought him close, he could see the shivers making the muscles of your thighs twitch whenever his hot breath hit the wetness of your cunt, and yet…wasn’t this wrong? Had he somehow taken advantage of you?

“Harvey, fuck, please?” A small rock of your hips followed your words. Urging him closer. He could smell you now, and holy life, did you smell good. Lured him right into taking a deep whiff, as if he didn’t know he would get drunk on you immediately. Yet he did know and he willingly took another deep inhale. The impatient whine above him caused his eyes to flicker up to your face. You looked down at him, your lower lip tugged between your sets of pearly whites. No words needed to be spoken, and yet Harvey still followed your order.

His tongue slowly slipped out of his mouth; eyes glued to your face. He wanted to see how you would react to that first contact, wanted to see if you felt as hot as he did right now. His pants were really straining against his aching erection, his zipper pressing against the shaft through his boxers. He was pretty sure those were wet too by now, with all the pre-cum he had been leaking. He finally pressed the muscle against your entrance, licking a flat, thick line upwards. And he took his time doing it; so much so that it had your toes curl and your thighs close in around his head. The brunet was quick to react, though, one hand holding your leg open, while the other busied itself with spreading open your pussy for his hungry tongue. His licking had become faster now, but precise enough to avoid your clit. He was, after all, only cleaning you up now, wasn’t he? Still, that didn’t mean that his hot tongue licking up whatever you gave him didn’t make you moan for him. How long had you been thinking about this? Having Harvey between your legs, in any which way he would have offered? Too long. And now he finally had his head buried between your thighs, licking and sucking you up like a starved man offered a meal after ages of going hungry. His tongue licked up and down, from one side to the other, but he still ignored your hardening clit with apparently the same professionalism he had ignored your advances before.

He gave your lips a light suck, then sunk his tongue deep inside of you. A groan left his glistening lips, eyes shut tight while he lapped at your walls eagerly, trying to get as much of you as possible into his mouth. “Harvey, oh fuck, right there,” you breathed, hand flying in his hair to hold onto the strands between your fingers tightly, giving a tug that was harder than you had intended it to be. But that only seemed to spur the male on more, his face burying deeper, tongue and lips working in unison now. And by Yoba, he had never tasted anything this good; so sweet, so…you; and you were addictive.

Your hips bucked upwards for him, if to grant him easier access or just because you couldn’t keep them down anymore, you didn’t know. You didn’t really care, either. Harvey’s moustache rubbed against you in a way that made your head spin, his lips sucking on you while he circled his tongue within you made your whole body tense. Even when pussy-drunk he seemed incredibly precise, knowing just where to brush past, when to suck and when to lick.

 You weren’t able to do much anymore, just hold onto his hair and wait for the sweet, sweet release to wash over you and in turn, Harvey’s tongue.

It was close; you could feel it in the ripple down your spine, in the way you clenched around him, you could feel it in the pit of your stomach, too. You were dangerously close to the edge, and one well-placed flick would push you over. You were ready for it; the string of moans that left your lips were dirty, raw, carrying all the words you couldn’t form anymore.

You awaited the feeling of your orgasm crashing over you, not to suddenly feel empty and cold after being engulfed in the warmth of his mouth. But Harvey was standing now, his face wet and his glasses fogged up from the heat that had reached the cool surface, and yet you knew that he was staring right at you. You opened your mouth, but you didn’t trust your vocal cords just yet, so all you did was letting out a confused hum, to which the brunet in front of you smiled.

“You are all clean now- I believe you are ready for further tests.”

Fuck, you were. More than that. By now, you really felt an ache in your body, and the only remedy was there, right in front of you, fumbling with the buttons of his pants. His hands were shaking, enough so for you to lean forward, popping the button open for him. The doctor let out an awkward laugh, moustache twitching from the embarrassed rumble that went through him. “Sorry,” he whispered but quickly switched gears when you pressed a kiss to his lips. The taste of you mixed with his spit made you whimper, the appetite for him only growing within you. You wanted to help him tug down his boxers as well, but instead of fabric, you were met with the soft skin that had been hidden beneath until now. Your throat went dry; you just had to pull away and look at him. He was big, tip coated in a layer of pre-cum, his shaft girthy.

“Harvey, please,” you stammered, leaning back on the table so he could lean over you more easily.

The brunet followed you like a well-behaved lamb, leaning in again to kiss you. You could feel the tip of his dick against your entrance, slowly pushing forward. The stretch the head of his penis caused made your eyes roll back, excitement for the rest of his girth stretching you bubbling inside of you.

Harvey, ever the gentleman, took it slow. Rutting inside of you, centimetre after centimetre, eyes fixed on your face for any signs of pain and discomfort. He brushed your hair to the side to whisper sweet nothings in your ear, telling you how good you felt, how wet you were for him, and holy Yoba, did he ever feel anything like this before?

You had to admit, at first, the stretch did hurt a little, but with both him being so tender with you, so gentle, the pain quickly turned into a cloud of lust and despair. You wanted him, and you weren’t afraid to show him anymore. “Harvey, oh, for fuck’s sake, fuck me.”

A twitch, and then a shove that made him bottom out inside of you. A groan from him bled into the moan that tore from you, but that didn’t make Harvey pause. Not anymore.

His thrusts were shaky, unsure at first. He was just so adorable, wasn’t he? His eyes searched yours as if to ask for approval, as if to make sure he was doing this right, and it made your heart swell within your chest.

“You are so good to me, Harv,” you whispered, shamelessly letting your moans slip for him. The brunet’s eyes lit up, and he pushed his hips forward faster, more eagerly now.

Smiling to yourself, you let your head lull back. Harvey’s dick felt so good within you, filling you out with clumsy thrusts that steadied the more confidence he felt. Your back arched in as the brunet found a rhythm that seemingly fitted both your tastes; fast strokes that reached deep within you. The little grunts that left his slightly swollen hips only added fuel to the fire, only made you want him more.

Your legs hooked around his soft hips as he fucked into you with quick thrusts, body working with him to get him to go harder, more ruthless. Lucky for you, Harvey was a quick learner. Dick now fucking into you harder, red tip still pounding as deep as he could go.

The man’s face was a mix of pleasure and astonishment as if he wasn’t able to believe this was really happening to him. You just felt so damn good around him, walls clinging to his hot cock, sucking him off with each thrust. If he had a say in it, he would have never left your sweet pussy again, keeping his dick buried inside of you, thrusting into you whenever he deemed fit.

The moans and whines of his name that filled the examination room made his vision blur; his balls incredibly tight all of a sudden.

“Harveeey,” you gasped out, your hand reaching for his in an attempt to hold onto something again, fingers gently brushing along his knuckles before intertwining. The brunet above you was panting now, his hips never stilling as he fucked into you. His eyes, however, weren’t focused on your face anymore; they had fallen onto your tits that were bouncing oh so nicely for him with each of his thrusts. He just couldn’t help himself; it was too tempting – his head dipped down, teeth catching one of your pretty pink nipples, nibbling on it just to suck it into his mouth moments later.

You could feel the feeling start to grow inside of you again, your orgasm approaching you, even though you didn’t want this to stop yet. You didn’t want this to end just now, now that he was filling you up so perfectly, cock sliding against your squishy walls with such ease; you didn’t want his balls slapping against your wet cunt to stop just yet, you wanted, no, needed, more.

As if hearing your thoughts, Harvey picked up his pace just a little more, his mouth switching to the other nipple to pay it the same amount of attention. The squelching sound of the wetness between your legs was to die for, just like the feeling of his orgasm hot in his veins.

You just felt so deliciously good, better than any neat whiskey ever could have, and it made him go crazy. He felt hot, he felt like he was just about close enough to heaven to feel it, but not quite there. The bucking of his hips grew more desperate as he chased his orgasm, going hard and deep inside of you while his mouth busied itself leaving hickeys on your bouncing tits. The insecurity from before had vanished, and the groans, the begs, the whines, the praise, all coming from you was enough to keep it away.

“Harvey, I am- fuck, I am so close-“

He would have answered, had he been able to. But he had basically gone mute, aside from the whimpers and groans, as well as high-pitched moans that dared to tumble from his tongue. Instead, he just nodded at you and did his best to pick up the pace some more. It was just so hard with you sucking around him so nicely, drooling all over his dick. So hard to focus when he could feel you shake beneath him, making his body ache for the final push.

The bite to your tit he gave you, combined with his deepest thrust yet was enough for you. You squeezed his hand tightly, your toes curling and your back arching in as finally allowed the release to flow over you. You cried out his name, your sweet, pretty cunt spasming around poor Harvey, who was, admittedly, both absolutely pussy-drunk and empty-minded.

His breathing now came in forceful, laboured pushes, and if he had ever heard a patient breathe like that, he would have sent them straight to bed and run endless tests on them. But this – this was nothing but the sheer hunger for one person.

He suddenly slammed forward once more, his back arching in as he moaned out your name loudly, penis twitching as he came inside of you, cum painting your walls white. He had to squeeze his eyes shut to not lose focus, his mouth hanging open as he fucked you through your orgasm. Your legs were quivering with each thrust that sent shocks up your spine from the overstimulation that slowly started to nag at you.

Panting, the brunet tried to keep himself from crashing down on top of you, a thin layer of sweat covering his forehead. His eyes were still hazy as they took in your fucked-out expression. You looked ruined but also completely…satisfied.

Your hand was still shaky as you reached up to let it run down his flushed cheek, a smile on your lips. “That definitely helped, Harv,” you whispered, voice slightly more hoarse than it had been that morning.

Harvey cleared his throat, and after a moment or maybe two – maybe also three, he just felt so good inside of you – pulled out of you, shaky legs carrying him over to the sink where he wettened some paper towels to clean you up.

“I am glad I was able to help.”

Disappointment settled in your stomach. Was that it? Did he just go back to his professional self like the table beneath you wasn’t drenched in your wetness and his cum?

“But I need to run a few more tests. I think home visits would be best; I’d need different surfaces and times.”

Click. Two lambs had fallen for the trap

[plumipal]

I just had a thought- how would Grim and the ramshackle ghosts feel about all the stuff happening to us?

Especially if the yandere(s) are coming over to our dorm too! Would they, depending on the severity of the yandere and their specific actions, range from supporting it cuz yknow reader gets to be happy with someone who treats them well and loves them to concerned because sweetie please get yourself outta there 😭

I can imagine Grim is NOT alright with it and for a multitude of reasons, they are taking away your time with HIM, and once he pays more attention to the bigger picture? Yeah messed up things be occasionally happening that could very well hurt you!! He does not like that!!!

im just imagining Grim being visibly not alright and reader will not have it either when it comes to him, they are a PACKAGE deal and that is that no matter which yandere comes their way 🗣️

we have many people more alright with Grim being reader’s number one priority, or yknow silently(?) wishing it was them, poor Grim and Reader man encountering yandere after yandere 😭

Grim would give us a look if we expressed any sort of romantic interest in any yandere I think lol

‘Pologies if it was too long or ranty, though I am curious who you think would be the most and least alright with this? I imagine Leona and Ace (legally required to bring up Ace he’s my all time fav next to Grim) would NOT like it lmao

.. first off, this is the longest ask ive ever gotten, I gotta just say oml thank you so much????? You, wrote all of this, fpr me?? 🥹🥹🥹💖💖💖 this literally made my week thank you so much bestie 🥹😭 second off, this inspired me to rant too, I hope you enjoy!- (not proofread btw)

So im mainly gonna focus on grim, no offence to ramshackle ghost fans, I just really like the silly little fire-cat/rat/weasel/creature. He was literally our first friend, our first companion (I bet Ace and grim bicker on who was your first).

And oh boy, guy is NOT HAPPY when he sees all these dumbasses vying for your attention and either trying to butter him up with tuna (which will not work on the mighty grim!) or ugnore him completely! Like you stated you and him are a package deal! Get the prefect and get their silly hungry companion!!

Now, grim surely uses his position as your closest companion as a safety net, they can't kill off the closest you have to family in this world! Guess they gotta live with him if they wanna have a life with you.

Ace hates that grim was your friend before him, feeling annoyed whenever he bullied (Juice) Deuce about being friends with you before him only for grim to butt in. Ace isn't too annoyed with grim though, and grim thinks that Ace is one of the better choises of the roster you have, they're both friends after all.

Of course most students in the cast don't liek "sharing" you with grim, especially the more territorial ones. Leona is probably the worst, I mean come on they're both feline looking creatures. With scent being a heavy thing for felines (yes even beastmen dont come at me) Leona is not happy to have his scent on you be muddied by the little rodent (the greatest mage of all, grim). Probably the worst choise since they're just gonna bicker to the end of the world..

Floyd doesn't like this either! Not fair that he has to share!! And with grim no less.. Floyd results in biting you instead of scenting, his chompers being good for nibbling on you. He also has the advantage that grim is sorta afraid of him (honestly who wouldn't be? Especially yan Floyd...).

Kalim tries to brime grim, with anything he could ever think off! Unlimited tuna for grim, and the best there is as well!! Nything grim could ever want on a silver platter, only if grim let's kalim marry you! That alone doesn't sound too bad, but that unsettling horrifying servant that follows Kalim around. He knows what jamil can do, and he sure does NOT want you with that dude!- guy is manipulative and creepy (he would definelty seperate you and grim!-)

Malleus... Malleus scares grim, guys is honestly horrifying. Threatening to curse him into an eternal slumber so he can whisk you away from him, he doesn't want that! You would also get sad id malleus did that, so luckily the possessive dragon had to share (for now...)

Whoever you choose, grim would probably disapprove, guy thinks of you as family (he will never admit that tho). He cares about you, and he is not okay with the invasion of privacy from these teenagers! >:(

I know you didn't ask fpr any drawing or such, but I couldn't help myself sorry 🤭 hope you like my ramblings back at you!

[chaostudee]

afterglow, oscar piastri

summary : y/n and oscar are childhood bestfriends and y/n tries to be supportive as she can by coming to his races and cheering him on. oscar enjoys y/n's company but sometimes he wishes that he could have you all to himself. in truth you are both just to stubborn to admit that you like each other, a little more than just friends. faceclaim : julia hatch a/n : i'm so obsessed with this acc <3

y/nusername

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, sabrinacarpenter, and 456,618 others.

user627 oml

username_11 the prettiest redhead

user9_782 oh girl we need the workout routine asap

sabrinacarpenter literally the most perfect ever 💋

y/nusername all you babes

username1415 to look like y/n 😫

f1fan the prettiest non-wag

user771 in my eyes she's a wag idc

y/nusername love supporting you bestie <3

》 girl u literally travel the whole world supporting him.....it's giving girlfriend

》 there is nooooo way they are just friends

》 my fav bestiessss

》 she's so supportive eeek i love her !!

》 our mclaren queen

oscarpiastri great weekend with a good haul of points !!

liked by y/nusername, landonorris, carlossainz and 4,618,929 others.

y/nusername so so proud of you !!

oscarpiastri ❤️

user728 my fav driver forever

f1fan how can u hate on this cutie

username661 great drive oscar !!

user992 i will always be a mclaren girl idc

user290 oscar pastry

oscarpiastri y/n forced me to post these pictures.

liked by y/nusername, landonorris, alexandrasaintmleux and 2,729,562 others.

y/nusername okay but FORCED is such a strong word....i encouraged you

user728 omgg y/n is so gorge

f1fan okay but appreciation for oscar's photography skills because wowww

user910 love them sm acc

username_56 oh how i love summer break content

user72 oscar pls lemme steal your bsf

f1lover proof the boys and girls can just be friends

landonorris

》 IS THAT Y/N?!?!

》 LANDO WTHHH OMGGG

》 oscar is defo going to be mad

》 um what in the world

》 posting this on your public story is crazyyy

》 i don't want to hear anyone start saying that they are dating istggg

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

texts between y/n and oscar

were you with lando today?? oscar

yeah y/n

oh i didn't know you guys were close oscar

we're just hanging out y/n

yeah right, i know lando oscar

omg stop oscar i can do what i want y/n

ik ik that y/n i'm just warning you oscar

okay well i rly don't care about what you think y/n

fine oscar

fine y/n

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

y/nusername now my life is sweet like cinnamon

liked by landonorris, alexandrasaintmleux, charlesleclerc and 1,772,929 others.

user728 oh !

username_89 she's really just that girl

f1fan not seeing oscar in the likes hurts

user627 imagine your teammate and bsf dating bleh

f1lover living for this drama idc

alexandrasaintmleux obssessed with the dress you look so gorge <3

y/nusername omgg tysmm it's from meskhi

user56 lando and oscar i fear i get it

username72 body is teaaa

f1_672 appreciation for the car 🫠

landonorris amazing weekend great to be back on the podium :)

liked by y/nusername, charlesleclerc, maxverstappen and 3,618,701 others.

maxverstappen great drive mate and a well deserved win

user that's my goat 🐐

username617 ugh his smile i cant

f1lover omgg best race of the season

user55 so ready for a drive to survive episode on this madness

user728 that podium is literally my dream blunt rotation

f1fan YES U GET IT user756 like carlos, lando and oscar omll i was dying username_55 it was all good until we got no landoscar interaction user617 stopp don't remind me 😭😭

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

texts between y/n and oscar

hey.... y/n

oh wow you're talking to me again oscar

well i figured u needed space y/n

i never wanted space y/n i was just angry oscar

oh okay y/n

so did u want something or...?? oscar

well yk halloween is coming up y/n

oh you still want to do the costume oscar

well i mean we do it every year osc y/n

yeah true, well i guess we shouldn't break tradition oscar

oh yayyy great i'll send you the details :) y/n

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

*written*

you stood adjusting your dress as excited chatter filled the room. the party was now in full swing and oscar had still not shown up. sure you had your doubts that he wouldn't but you had known oscar all your life, he wouldn't do that to you.

as if on cue the front door swings open and none other than the man himself steps inside before scanning the room. it's not long before his eyes latch onto yours and it feels as though your heart stops. you can't remember the last time you had seen him and the last time you weren't having an argument over something. oscar smiles and your heart begins to thump in your chest as you see him making his way over to you.

"hey" a familair voice beckons your attention.

you look up at him and smile when you notice that he wore the costume." nice costume" you say giggling as you tuck your hair behind your ear.

"oh yeah my best friend got it for me"

you nod smiling back at him. "so how have you been?"

you roll your eyes before drawing your attention back to him. "is this your subtle way of asking if me and lando are still together"

"i don't care about that" he blatantly lies, scrunching his nose.

"well if you must know we are taking a break right now he said he was too busy for a serious relationship".

oscar scoffs. "what an asshole".

"he's your bestfriend" you say confusingly as you believed that lando and oscar were close.

"yeah but so are you".

your heart warms when you hear that and you feel as though in that moment your friendship has been mended through unspoken words. yet you still wished that he would notice, notice how obviously and madly in love with him you are. you watched as he looked into the distance and there you sat admiring something from afar and out of reach.

y/nusername halloween ;)

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, maxverstappen and 11,772,929 others.

user HUH

user728 i'm so confused

f1fan u and me both girl

user61 if i was lando i would be so pissed BECAUSE WDYM THEY DID A COUPLES COSTUME TOGETHER

f1lover the real ogs know that they do a couples costume every year

user919 ya'll are hating but I LOVE

justaninchident oh how i missed them

user671 lando be tweaking rn

username717 the fits are on point

f1_55 blink twice oscar if u need help

mclaren lando and oscar youtube video up now !

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, user782 and 554,818 others.

user728 OMG THEY MADE UP

username LANDOSCAR YES YES

anon defo just pr

f1fan not lando calling oscar out for getting flustered over y/n 💀

justaninchident okay but the way oscar and lando are looking at eachother omg i acc can't

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

texts between lando and y/n

you like him don't you lando

what makes u think that ?? y/n

are u fr y/n lando

the fact that you never stop talking about him and that everytime we are in the garage you can't keep your eyes off him lando

what do you even want me to say?! y/n

i want you to admit it lando

okay fine i like oscar y/n

for how long lando

lando pls y/n

y/n just tell me lando

i mean i've always loved him i just i don't know if he feels the same y/n

oh god you are both so so stupid lando

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

texts between y/n and oscar

how come u and lando don't hang out as much oscar

wow straight to the point y/n

well why oscar

because y/n

because why oscar

because he's not you y/n

wdym oscar

omg you are so clueless , i never liked lando silly he was just a distraction a way to trick my mind into liking someone else y/n

oh well who do u like oscar

do i actually have to say y/n

yes i want to hear you say it oscar

you y/n

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

y/nusername my boy 💞

liked by oscarpiastri, charlesleclerc, alexandrasaintmleux and 14,717,896 others.

user828 EEEEEEEEEKKKKK

username728 YES FINALLY

user734 STOP THIS IS EVERYTHING TO ME

alexandrasaintmleux so so happy for you, you deserve this sm <3

landonorris happy for you's

user561 awww username717 and this is why i love lando

user727 the hard launch is launching

f1fan omgggg im cryinggg

username_62 they are so perfect for each other

taglist ⭑.ᐟ

@lottalove4evelyn

@sweetestgirlintown111

@mxryxmfooty

@hadidsworld

@llando4norris

@heavy-vettel

@janeh22

@love2readd

@depressedriches

@seonghwaexile

@nichmeddar

[rene-darling]

Listen I saw this fanart and now I had an idea. So like sub!Idol Xiao x dom reader (fem prefered but u can choose) and so basically Xiao's taking some mirror selfies for his social media in this outfit and yk like showing off those lacy panties (like they're pulled up, but he still has his jeans on) and like reader (their partnwrcomes home and sees him doing that. So they like sneak up behind him and hug him from behind. Like he becomes all flustered all of the sudden and readers like:"Oh so you're showing this to millions of people, but get embarassed when I see it?" What happens afterwards is up to u lmao

IDOL!- Xiao x reader

OML THIS IS SO- HOT. I love this concept. I'm drooling.

Possessive reader! A lil toxic I guess, but it's pretty tame.

Also! The readers gender nor pronouns are not mentioned anywhere, so feel free to assume. And if they are please feel free to tell me!

Talk to me on insta [r3xni3]😞🙏

...Xiao...

He's been at it for hours. Different angles, different poses- all to get a good photo of himself flaunting his panties and the tight straps attached to them on his waist,

They hug his body so tightly pushing at his skin, if they move even a little bit you'd definitely see the red marks under them, they push up against his skin, it hurts but, he's doing it cause his agency asked him.

"mhm..." Groans leaving his throat, the photos- they're just not good enough. Scrolling through the endless amounts of them that he took, finally landing on one that pleases him.

He decides to shoot it one more time, same angle and stuff, just better lighting. He wants to show off his toned body as much as possible. And as he does this, it- quite frankly skips his mind that he has a loving partner returning from work soon. And that soon happens to be around- now.

"Ah-!" His body freezes up. Goosebumps trace along his skin- god your hands are cold. His eyes flash down, seeing as your hands slowly trace down the side of his waist, fidgeting with the straps they came across, grabbing one and pulling it away from his body only to watch in amusement as it snaps back in place once you let go,

He reaches out to grab your hand instinctively, mewling- until you finally reach, and play with the hem of his panties.

"y/n- s-...mh, stop." He tries sounding serious, but he curses at how squeaky and pitched his voice came out.

"hm..? What's the problem darl', you can show off your panties to millions of people, but you're getting embarrassed when I see? Hmpf, I'm one of your fans too y'know?."

"i-its not the same-" he's stammering over his words "y/n- hah..-" slipping your hands in between them, but not quite touching him just yet, simply tracing the sides of his hip "and how so..? I'm your biggest fan, shouldn't I get a reward for that. I deserve more than a picture. Don't'cha think?"

Tracing down the side of his hip, he can feel your eyes peering over his shoulder, watching him. His every movement, his every shudder. And the way his panties start bulging in a specific area

"y/n-" his voice is cut off by his own whine. You're so mean, suddenly jerking his cock, tapping its tip just for your own amusement. "Aw- darlin that was too cute!..do that again? Hm? For me?..you take so many photos for those stupid fans of yours, you can make that cute sound for me again can't you..?"

Huffing, he's leaning back into your body. His head falling back with each increase in movement, resting it on your shoulder, whining back into your ear. "Hah- you- you're so mean..!"

It's not your fault he's decided to make you jealous. Seriously, why the hell should he post his body for all his perverted fans to see.

Picking up his phone and pressing record on it, angling it right at his face. "Look here baby, I'm sure your perverted fans would love to see their favorite lil idol losing his head over a few touches." His eyes widen in shock "n-no..!"

He tries grabbing the phone, but to no avail. You pull it further, and jerk his lil dick harder, he stumbles, falling forward before you grab his waist pulling him back into you, he's leaning his whole body weight against you, he just hopes you won't let go.

Snickering to yourself you decide to stop recording, and go into the photos, clicking on the video you just took, you bring it to his ears and make him listen "Aw- darling don't you just sound so cute when you're desperate."

That's when it all spills. A shameful feeling, and an ever more shame worthy whine leave him as he comes all in his lacy little panties, getting them all dirty.

His legs collapse completely as you're forced to pick him up off the floor, not that you mind.

Resting him on the bed, letting him catch his breath, you take a hold of his phone and- delete every photo he took showing off those panties.

Scoffing you throw his phone down next to him and crash onto the bed right near him, wrapping your hands around his pretty waist you hear him huff. "You got them dirty..." He could only mumble under his breath.

"I'll buy you some new ones, on one condition." Turning his head around with a slightly amused expression on his breathless face "and..that is...?"

"you can only take those photos for me. I get to see them. No one else."

[dollishmehrayan]

# “IS IT NEW YEAR’S YET, I’M GETTIN’ BORED, SO CAN WE SKIP AHEAD?” ── .✦. ( a drabble of celebrating with batboys new years with batboys !! )

a/n: it’s 2025 oml, this year has been filled with ups and downs and many tears, many smiles, I wish that I live longer enough to enough plenty of years in peace, for 2025 my New Year’s resolution is to expand my interests && meet new people and friends and to be kind, understandable, happy, and positive and poetic !! Tags: (batboys x fem!reader)

© dollishmehrayan — ( all rights reserved to me. These works cannot be reposted, translated, or modified. Thank you for understanding dollies! )

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

Dick insists on going out for New Year’s Eve. He loves the energy of the city and wants to celebrate with you in style.

He takes you to a rooftop party with the best view of Gotham’s fireworks. He’s that guy pulling you onto the dance floor and spinning you around until your cheeks hurt from smiling.

When the countdown begins, he gets super excited, holding your hands and hyping up the moment like, “This is it! Best year yet, babe!”, “it’s just new years dick calm down.”

At midnight, he gives you a movie-worthy kiss, dipping you slightly for dramatic effect.

After the party, you both grab late-night street food and walk around the city, talking about your hopes for the new year.

JASON TODD ── .✦

Jason prefers a quieter New Year’s Eve at home, but he doesn’t mind doing something small if it makes you happy.

He sets up a cozy evening with your favorite snacks, drinks, and a movie marathon. “This is better than overpriced parties and sweaty crowds, right?”

As the clock nears midnight, he’ll make a sarcastic comment like, “Think 2025 will be the year Gotham finally gets its act together?”

At midnight, he gives you a sweet kiss and mumbles, “Here’s to another year of putting up with me.

If you want to do something fun, he might take you to a rooftop to watch fireworks. He holds you close and pretends it’s just for warmth, but he’s smiling the whole time.

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

Tim’s ideal New Year’s involves a mix of productivity and relaxation. He plans a cute night in where you can both reflect on the past year and set goals for the new one.

He buys a journal or a vision board for the two of you to fill out together. “Okay, what’s your most unrealistic goal for this year? Let’s make it happen.”

He struggles to stay awake as midnight approaches, though. You catch him dozing off during a movie, and he grumbles when you wake him. “I’m not asleep I’m resting my eyes.”

At midnight, he kisses you softly and murmurs, “Thanks for making this year better.”

If you want to go out, he’ll humor you with a cute date to a low-key café or a small gathering with friends.

DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦

Damian treats New Year’s as a time to improve himself. He’s not into big parties, but he’ll indulge your preferences to make you happy.

If you want to stay in, he sets up a fancy dinner for the two of you with candles and elegant dishes he helped Alfred prepare. “We’ll celebrate properly, without the chaos.”

He rolls his eyes at New Year’s resolutions but secretly sets a few for himself, especially involving you. “Fine. I resolve to… be more patient with you.” (You tease him for that.)

At midnight, he gives you a shy but heartfelt kiss and says, “I’m glad you’re in my life this year.”

If you convince him to watch fireworks, he’ll grumble about the noise but eventually relaxes when you lean against him.

BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦

Bruce makes New Year’s a classy affair. He takes you to a gala or hosts an elegant party at Wayne Manor.

He’s by your side the whole night, introducing you to important guests and making sure you feel like the most important person in the room.

At midnight, he’ll find a quiet corner to steal a private moment with you, giving you a soft, lingering kiss and whispering, “Thank you for making this year so much brighter.”

If you prefer something low-key, he’ll cancel all plans and spend the evening with you at home. You’ll share champagne by the fire, reminiscing about the past year.

He’s the type to surprise you with a meaningful gift at the stroke of midnight, like a bracelet engraved with the date or a key to the Manor if you don’t already live there.

[froggiewrites]

HAII, I rlly love your writing style and the way you portray the characters! I was wondering if u could do an Ace x shy (ish) reader except the reader is an extrovert but completely loses all social skills when it comes to Ace and practically avoids him lol (cuz he’s so fineeee oml like how can u talk normally to a fine man like him?) I’m sorry Ik it’s a bit specific but I’ve had this scenario in mind for a while and I was wondering if u could write abt it please 😓😓

This was such a cute request, I had fun with this one 😊 I hope you enjoy it!

Tongue Tied

Pairing: Ace x Reader

SFW

Summary: You've decided you're done embarrassing yourself in front of your Commander, but your attempt to avoid him doesn't work out how you'd hoped. Warnings: Fluff, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Ace and Reader both being idiots Word Count: 1.7k

If you make a fool of yourself in front of him again, you might throw yourself off of the ship.

There’s only so many stumbles, so many stuttered words, so many awkward laughs that you can handle. Every time you speak to Ace, you somehow manage to embarrass yourself. You’re done with it. If you can’t get your act together, can’t impress and enchant him how you want to, then it’s better not to speak to him at all.

And so here you are, curled up in a corner of the kitchen, praying to any god that might listen that your Commander doesn’t come looking for a snack.

“You alright down there?” Thatch’s voice is kind, as it always is, but you can hear a bit of a laugh. You’re used to the good natured teasing of the crew, so it doesn’t get under your skin as much as it used to, but you can’t help but bristling a bit.

“I’m fine.”

He puts his hands up in surrender. “I’m sure you are. I just wanted to check. I heard there was an incident earlier–”

“God, don’t remind me.” You had been in the middle of telling a story, complete with very enthusiastic hand gestures, only for Ace to sneak up on you and get clocked straight in the face by a particularly large sweeping motion. He was fine, obviously, as a Logia type, but you had barely managed to squeak out an embarrassed apology before you had sprinted off, nearly tripping down the stairs on your way out. “I’m never going to live that down.”

“It’s not like you hurt anybody. Everyone on the ship has at least one story way more embarrassing than this, I promise you. You remember how many times Ace got thrown overboard when he first got here, don’t you?”

“I don’t think losing a fight to Pops is as embarrassing as accidentally punching a commander in the face because I got too excited.”

“Well at least your thing is cute.”

“Cute? It made me look insane!”

“It made you look clumsy. There’s plenty of clumsy people on this ship, and we love them all the same.” You don’t want to give in, want to sit in the hurt and the shame until it eats you whole, but Thatch’s words are so kind and his words are so gentle you can’t help but let your hold on it slip a bit, your shoulders relaxing just a tad. “I promise you this is going to be nothing but a funny memory someday. Probably someday soon. I’m surprised you’re so shaken by this, honestly. Haven’t you had a lot of moments like this?”

“Where I made myself look like a dumbass in front of a crowd? Yeah, I have, thanks for reminding me.” There’s no bite to your words anymore, and you can see the small shimmer of victory in his eyes as he realizes he’s gotten to you.

“But those don’t bother you. Because it isn’t about the crowd, right?”

You sigh. You had a feeling Thatch knew about your little crush, considering how poorly you’ve been hiding it, but he hadn’t said anything before now. You had hoped that no one ever would, and you could keep pretending you weren’t horribly obvious about your feelings. “So you’re going to make me talk about it now?”

“I’m not going to make you do anything, kid. I’m just giving you the chance to. In a safe space. And I promise that not a single word of what you tell me will leave this room.”

You don’t want to. You may be horribly uncomfortable and embarrassed now, but this is a familiar discomfort. A safe sort of pain, dull and easy to deal with. If you talk about it, let your soft parts show, well, who knows what will come after that? Nothing is more terrifying than the unfamiliar, whether it’s joy or disappointment or something in between. At least you know how pining feels, how it sits so snugly in your chest.

But Thatch’s smile is so warm, and his eyes are a little bit pleading, and you’ve never been good at turning away an outstretched hand. “...I just don’t know what it is about him that makes me such a mess.”

“Does he make you nervous?”

“Yes, god, so much. I’m not used to someone making me feel so…small. And jittery. I never know what to say, and even when I do the words come out wrong. It makes me feel so stupid and silly, like I’m a dumb kid again while he’s so…everything. I hate it. I hate feeling so out of control and self conscious. I hate that even seeing him makes me completely lose it, and that everyone can tell. I hate how hard it is to avoid him, because even despite all of that I still want to be around him. It sucks. So goddamn bad.”

“It can be hard to feel like you’re not in control of your emotions, that’s true. But caring about someone isn’t a bad thing, really. Especially not caring about someone like Ace. He’s a good guy.” 

“He is a good guy.” It’s part of the reason he had stolen your heart so effortlessly. He was just…kind. He cared about other people, and other people cared about him. When he passed through somewhere, he always left it a little better than he found it, whether he actively tried or not. You can’t help the small, self deprecating laugh that bubbles out of you. “He’d be a hell of a lot easier to get over if he wasn’t. But maybe he’s worth the trouble.”

“Worth making a fool of yourself?”

You smile, a small and fragile little thing. “Yeah.”

It feels good to have gotten off of your chest for a moment, and you let a little of that weight fall off your shoulders.

And then you hear the creak of the floorboards outside, and you and Thatch look up to see Ace, his hat quickly pulled down to cover his face, just barely showing the very red tips of his ears.

“Oh my god.” You can barely squeak out the words, so mortified it almost makes you nauseous.

Thatch has the nerve to laugh. “Well, this isn’t the ideal way to do this, but hey. At least it’s out there. I told you they didn’t hate you, didn’t I?”

What?

Ace’s voice is about an octave higher than you remember it. “Yeah, you mentioned that. I–um–I’m so sorry, I was just coming down to talk to Thatch, and–I really didn’t mean to eavesdrop.” He lets his hat drop a little, his eyes peeking over the brim, allowing you to see his flushed cheeks, making his freckles stand out even more over the pink.

Thatch very casually walks past Ace, shoves him into the kitchen, and walks away, calling over his shoulder to, “Have fun with that!”

He blinks at you.

You blink back.

“I–uh.” You can’t bring yourself to acknowledge what’s happening, your brain frying under the stress of trying to process the situation. “I’m sorry I punched you earlier.”

He chokes out a strained laugh. “It’s alright. I didn’t even feel it.”

Another beat of silence.

You’ve never seen Ace looking so unsure, shifting on his feet, eyes darting everywhere but you. Normally staying in his presence this long would make you curl in on yourself, taking up as little space as possible, trying not to make an idiot of yourself and failing massively. But something about seeing him look so vulnerable compared to how you usually view him, so human, makes you speak up. “You thought I hated you?”

The red on his cheeks grows deeper. “I–you always run when I try to talk to you. I thought it was because I made you uncomfortable, and I was hoping talking to you more would fix it, but it just made it worse. So I just…make you nervous?”

“Yeah. You do.”

“Why?”

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you. “What do you mean why? I thought you just heard why.”

He chuckles nervously. “Right. I–um. I just can’t believe it.”

“Which part?”

He tenses further, but instead of running, he begins to approach, slowly lowering his hat and sitting on the floor across from you. “Any of it, I guess. That you like me. That you think I’m some cool, strong hero, or something.”

“Do you not think you’re cool?”

He hums, closing his eyes in thought. “Yes. But not really.”

“Care to elaborate?”

He sighs. “I know I’m strong, and capable, and I try my best to help people. But…I don’t know. I just don’t think of myself as someone worth getting nervous over.”

“You don’t see why someone might be nervous around an extremely talented and handsome man?”

He grins. “You think I’m handsome?”

“Shut up. You already knew that.”

“You didn’t actually say it earlier. You just said I was good.”

You roll your eyes. “It was implied!”

“Maybe I’m not good with subtext!”

You both laugh, and you find yourself leaning closer. “I think you know damn well that you’re handsome and cool and all of the other amazing things I implied earlier.”

Before you know it, your noses are brushing together, and you can see every fleck of color in his eyes. “Do I?”

His lips are softer than you expected, his touch gentler than you could have dreamed. You don’t even realize what you’ve done until you’re already pulling away, cheeks flushed and a goofy smile on your face.

Ace looks downright giddy. “I never thought I’d get the chance to do that. This is the first time you’ve actually talked to me in months.”

It suddenly strikes you that you’ve finally had a normal conversation with Ace.

And kissed him.

You flush red.

He sighs fondly. “I was wondering when that was going to happen.” He leans forward, taking your hand in his, and is kind enough not to mention how clammy they’ve suddenly gotten. “It might be a little rough doing this if you can’t talk to me. But that’s alright. I think maybe you’re worth the trouble.”

Tag List: @pandora-writes-one-piece @shy-writer-999 @dreamcastgirl99 @tochillwithamockingjay

[sparklystarrrr]

Hi! Can I ask the platonic Crewel and the reader (the reader is his daughter) where she tells him about the guy she likes? "Well... You know him well." "Is it Vil?" "Not really... You know him well, but in a bad way." "......" "It's Floyd." "WHAT?! Please tell me this is a joke.""

Stop this made me giggle SO hard

Father’s Standards

Synopsis: Crewel has a clear standard for his daughter’s love life….

Contains: Divius C. x Fem! Reader, platonic, Reader is crushing on Floyd, so fluffy oml I cried writing the end

When school was over, Crewel would swipe his daughter away and being her right home. He had a set schedule and that involved having a healthy snack after school. He knew school food was usually terrible and as much as he wanted to trust the kitchen ghosts, he was a firm believer that nothing else would be better than his own cooking for his child. “You will have the charcuterie board i prepared earlier as long as you can take the dogs out for a walk right after. Are we clear?” He spoke whilst he unlocked his home’s front door. Once no words left his daughter’s mouth he turned around, slightly annoyed.

“(y/n). Are you listening to me, young lady?”He spoke firmly. (y/n)’s eyes seemed to be very fixed on the image of her and a certain dopey eel boy on her lock screen. At the sound of her name her head snapped up and shut off her phone. A clearly flushed expression was on her face as she looked right up at her dad.”Huh? Y-yeah I heard you dad! Food then dog walking, got it.” (y/n) jumbled. Crewel sighed heavily.” You’re incredibly jumpy today, I cannot begin to fathom a reason why…”

His daughter laughed nervously,”Yeahhh uhm, I-I don’t really either! It’s nothing!” The man clearly knew something it wasn’t nothing. He did not teach his daughter to speak in such a jittery manner! He rolled his eyes and brushed it off. He knew she would tell him. 

(Y/n) sat stiffly in a plush chair at the kitchen counter. Her posture crunched as she pulled out her phone to text her friends, ignoring the snack in front of her. “Young lady, elbows off the table. Fix your posture. And what do you need to be texting your friends about right this moment?” He spoke. His eyes squinted to try and see what she could possibly be typing.

Upon seeing her father peeping at her phone, (y/n) slammed her phone down on the counter,”N-nothing dad!” Crewel sighed heavily,”(Y/n) it is obviously something, you can’t fool me.” He grumbled. The (h/c) haired girl glanced from her twiddling fingers to the food in front of her, then at her father, the wall and back at her fingers.

“I may… like someone. You know him… very well.” At that, Crewel’s ears perked. “Who is this boy? Vil Schoenheit?”

(Y/n)’s face lowered slightly. “You know him really well but… not in a good way.” She said in a whisper. Crewel furrowed his brow. “There are many young pups who cause a ruckus in my class, you’ll need to be specific.” 

(Y/n) shuddered. “It’s uhm… Floyd… Leech.” She said under her breath hoping it would be inaudible. When she looked up from her twiddling fingers her father audibly and dramatically gasped. A hand was on his chest as if in the most dramatic shock.”Excuse me? Say that again pup. My age may be getting to my ears already.”

The girl sighed “It’s Floyd Leech, dad. I like him.” She said with an embarrassed frown and flushed cheeks. “You have an… interesting type Pup.” He said while clearly in deep thought. The girl sat squirming in her chair while her father huffed,”I will accept this, just this once. Only because you’re my daughter.” The man reasoned while clearly holding back from saying things. (Y/n)’s (e/c) eyes glittered with hope,”Really?!-“ “Do not let this happen again. If he dares hurt you, you come straight to me pup. I do not trust that boy one bit-“ “Yes, dad yes, okay! I get it!” The girl huffed.

Crewel walked to the other side where (y/n) sat, still embarrassed. He brushed some of her hair aside and kissed her forehead leaving a small lipstick stain, “You’re growing up puppy. As much as I’d like to still have you as my little baby pup, I’m content to see you grow into a young woman,” He placed a hand on the back of her chair gently. “Even if your type is concerning.” He let a small chuckle leave his lips and watched (y/n)’s lips curl into a dazzling smile as she giggled. The girl wrapped her arms around around him tight as a silent thank you. Before the man could say something like “You’ll wrinkle my clothes”, he wrapped his arms loosely around her as well, pressing a small kiss on the top of her head.

[safflowerisyes]

Okay, so I was looking at @keferon's mecha pilot Jazz au, and I just had to write abt it because oml the angst

Also, keep in mind I haven written anything in a very long time

Prowl was still having a hard time wrapping his processor around it. His emotions were a hurricane of confusion, rage, and betrayal. As he stared down at the organic infront of him, he couldn’t help the deep frown that formed on his faceplates.

“I guess this is a lot for you, huh Prowler?”

The organic stared back up at him with an apologetic smile. It rubbed the back of its neck awkwardly. Jazz was never awkward. At least, not that Prowl could tell. Though, it wasn’t like Jazz had an EM field to show that.

“A human, you said?”

Prowl needed to hear it again to believe it. There was no way this tiny little bag of flesh had been controlling Jazz. No way it had been Jazz.

The organic nodded. “Yeah. I know it’s probably very confusing, but imagine my confusion when I found out you were all actually sentient mechs, not pilots in mecha suits.”

This was indeed all very confusing, and yet it also made a little too much sense. It explained why Jazz had always felt so… hollow.

Prowl scoffed at the organic’s words. The implication that he was just some lifeless suit to be worn was insulting in the very least.

The organic seemed to recognize Prowl’s disdain, quickly revising his previous statement, “But that makes so much sense now! It makes sense why you’re so expressive, and how you have all these little ticks and habits. Like whenever you’re flustered your wings turn forwards a little.”

It noticed? The organic took notice of his mannerisms. That would imply that it cared enough to pay attention to those things. Well… Prowl knew Jazz cared enough to notice those things, but this organic, this human…

It made Prowl think. Think of something other than the fact that his crush friend had just opened up, and a small organic crawled out of said friend’s chassis.

“Prowl. It’s still me. It’s still Jazz. I’m just… smaller.”

The organic was giving him a hopeful smile, its voice soft as if comforting a close friend. It made Prowl’s spark melt. A part of him wanted to take the small organic and hold it in his embrace for all eternity. He just wanted Jazz back.

But the other part of him wanted to squeeze the organic till it popped. He just wanted Jazz back.

Prowl glared at the organic, and its smile faltered. This sent a pang of hurt through Prowl, but he ignored the aching in his spark.

He turned to walk away. Being there talking to it wouldn’t make things go back to how they were. Things would never go back to how they were.

“Prowl, wait!”

Prowl turns to see the organic running after him. It gets to the edge of the table and tries to stop, but it’s going too fast. It stumbles, loses balance, and falls.

But Prowl is quick, and catches the tiny being in his servos. His expression is that of fear. He felt like he was about to lose Jazz. Again.

The organic smiles. “So you do care about me.”

Prowl’s expression swiftly turns to annoyance. But… the organic did have a point, he had to admit.

Prowl began to look at the organic differently. Instead of being the parasite that crawled out of Jazz’s chassis, it was now what remained of said mech.

And maybe… just maybe… Prowl could get used to him.