#how to get a doctor's undivided attention

[lovelaughsimp]

Waking up with my husband teaching me billiards is crazy. He absolutely has me on chokehold. Y'all don't understand the things I'll do for him.

Please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please

He is so damn fine. God, I need him. God I'll fast for 16 Mondays. Please give me Zayne. I'll do anything. 🙏🏻

[lovelaughsimp]

It was to get you worked up but I think I have changed my mind now, is that okay?

I beg of you, your the only person who wrote such a good zayne story 😍 it makes everything tingle, can we get a story of us sucking him off PLEASEEEEEE

⋆｡°✩ PWP Smut, Banter, Oral (M-receiving), no pronouns. Please let me know if I missed something, and I'll fix it.

Your nerves are on fire, each one a tiny beacon for arousal to run its rickety, lurching course through you. Overwhelmed, you bring your hands up and brace them against the headboard of the bed, clasping them into tight fists to calm the adrenaline rolling like waves through your veins.

It’s been too long since you felt this way, burdened with trembling limbs and stomach-knotting excitement, something that could only be accomplished when you have a certain surgeon between your gripping thighs. It’s been too long since you’ve seen Zayne, let alone have his hard, defined abs taut where you cradle his stomach.

He props his shoulders on dark blue satin pillows, his head in the perfect position for you to look at him. The unyielding gaze he holds does nothing to calm your heaving chest or aching nether regions as you take your time soaking and drinking him in.

Zayne has already changed so much since you last were with him. Your eyes are anchored to the widening of an already broad physique and the stretch and bulge of his biceps when he runs his hands down your back and over your ass to grip at the meat of your thighs. The golden glow of the nightstand lamp setting off against dark hazel eyes and battle-worn skin tempts you to squeeze his slowly fluctuating chest.

Before you can seal the deal on your spiraling dirty thoughts, Zayne catches your intentions, as if the position you were in didn’t already make it obvious. It’s a game that both amuses and frustrates you at the same time.

“It seems someone worked themselves up rather quickly.”

Lifting your sight from his chest, you meet a playfully mocking glint hidden behind a firm gaze. To keep your annoyance, or impatience rather, from showing, you set your attention on the intricate designs of the headboard.

“Just admiring the finish on the wood,” you excuse. “Lacquer?”

Zayne lifts a hand and pinches at your chin to force you to concentrate on him causing you to take your first shuttering breath that night. With piercing eyes, he searches for something in your face, so hauntingly that it makes you throb, and you silently hope he doesn’t feel your legs clamp harder at his waist or how much you're beginning to leak.

He doesn’t need it. As always, Zayne finds what he wants. His voice is inquisitive but the look in his eyes is teasing when he finally asks, “Are you sure that’s what it is? Your pupils are dilated, and I don’t think you’re one to really care about woodwork to that degree.”

You huff at his observation, always the smart-mouthed one. Could he blame you for being hot and bothered when you have an undeniably attractive man under you, especially when you haven't been able to touch him in weeks? It’s so hard with your schedules. Even now, it’s thanks to an unexpected sick day that your schedules managed to align. So, yeah, maybe you were more worked up than usual, but Zayne was a lot of things, stern, serious, reservedly kind, and very much aware of his commanding good looks and the effect it has on you.

Luckily, you’re not the only one who is having trouble maintaining a calm visage. His face holds a barely recognizable flush, his chest strains with too-deep breaths, and his large, scarred hands squeeze the back of your legs to an almost painful point before he swipes your tender skin with manicured thumbs.

It doesn’t take a genius to see that the tepid atmosphere is growing too tense for both of you. Who admits to it first is anyone’s guess, but it’s not likely to be Zayne without some encouragement.

So, you prance your fingertips across his angular jaw before drawing a seductive line from the point of his chin through the center of his pectorals, a line you plan to use to start your reacquaintance with his body very soon. The sticky heat radiates from him and seeps into you, knotting the aching twists in your lower stomach even tighter.

“You’re one to talk,” you remark, displaying your own mischievous thoughts. Your hand finds a place to roost over his left side and sprawls open over his heartbeat, reading the steadily rising pace. “I can hear you breathing from here, and your skin is so hot and sweaty.”

For someone whom others wrongfully describe as cold, something about him is smoldering when he rakes his eyes over your body. It’s hungry, and you’re so ready to devour and be devoured, as he forces himself to meet your face again.

“It’s the fever.”

Holding in your laughter, you smack your lips at him. “Didn’t you say you were feeling better today? You didn’t lie to me, did you, Zayne?”

The man doesn’t respond, usually a sign that he was thinking but the only thing on his mind was your hand running orbits around his nipple, outlining the smooth round expanse circling it. You grope lightly at his chest, marveling how full it makes your hand, before cascading that touch lower and lower.

The girth of his cock twitches against your ass, and you think you almost got him as he begins to ripple under your exploration; alas, he manages to keep in his sighs until you start to comb through the delicate valley of shallow black hair that curls from his lower stomach and disappears under his sweatpants.

“I knew you would blow it out of proportion otherwise,” he plays off, releasing another low groan. “It didn’t seem to stop you from marching right over, however.”

“Oh?”

Pitifully pouting, you roll onto your side next to him, press your chest into his arm, and lean in to kiss under his ear.

“You don’t like me taking care of you?” you whine with a pathetic infliction and a whimper, all the while adding pressure as you begin to massage his groin over his briefs, close enough he can feel the sensitive flesh right above the base of his cock imprinting with your touch but not quite where he wants it or how he wants it. “That’s so mean.”

Playfully, you blow against his ear, and there’s the smallest shudder that makes your heart pound hard. There’s nothing like seeing him slowly give in, trying to act in control when his cock readily jumps and stiffens as if to reach your hand. The reaction encourages you to shuffle your hand under his briefs in a few ticklish swipes only to be met with disappointment when his voice catches, hiding a guttural sound you could only curse him for not letting you hear when you wrap your fingers around his cock.

It frustrates you how he won’t even give you an inch of nonresistance, but his cock pulses at your touch, and you smile to yourself at how he couldn’t hide the eager hard-on that you were quickly encouraging with only a few twists and pets.

“When you forced me to let you take care of me,” he begins, pausing only to hiss softly when your fist tightens, which causes the warm slick of precum to seep into his pants and a brief fluttering of his eyes before he recollects himself. “I assumed that meant you’d make a wreck of my kitchen like last time.”

Slowly, you slide your calf over the top of his knee.

“My soup made you better though.”

Zayne groans as you pull him free from his clothing, holding onto his cock as it springs from too-tight confines. Your thumb follows the thick pulsing vein running up the side of his cock before tracing his dripping slit. His head slides back against the pillow, tilting back as he quietly gulps, and his thick throat stretches with the swallow.

“At the cost of my best pot.”

“A win's a win,” you mumble against the crux of his neck, which turns into a sigh when his arm makes space to slide under you, wrap around your upper hip, and squeeze at your ass.

“Now, I see you only had one thing in mind when you came over, after all.”

“That’s not it,” you mewl, squirming when he pinches your cheek harder.

“Are you saying you didn’t come over to take advantage when you have me like this?” he asks.

“You make it sound so calculated!” You shake your head. “I just know this will fix you up in no time. Besides, I missed you.”

There’s a short and irritatingly self-satisfied chuckle from him that makes your chest vibrate with the makings of a moan as his deepening voice rumbles in your ears. “I’m in your capable hands then,” he finally relents, not that you expected any other outcome, and you make your move to flip on top of him again.

There’s a snap somewhere finally releasing any inhibitions when your lips meet. It’s passionate, filled with every desire that’s been burning in him since he’s seen you. Zayne can be gentle, but he can also be bruising. Sometimes he’s a mix of both like when his tongue glides on top of yours and his teeth graze against your bottom lip during the short moments you break for air before capturing each other’s taste again.

You moan into his mouth when he cups the back of your neck and pulls you closer, deepening the kiss to the point you're becoming dizzy. It takes some strength to break free from the passion of it all, but you want more of him, and you’re not willing to wait anymore. So, you pull away and allow your mouth to collide against his collar before he has time to capture you again. Zayne’s eyes glower, half-lidded as he watches every pucker of your lips and every kiss and bite on his body.

Zayne slides a palm up the small of your back, the other going to rub the crux of your thigh, dipping inward to stroke at the yielding flesh right at your center. You moan against him, doing your best not to start dry humping him like you’re in heat whenever his cock pulse against your lower belly, but the scent wafting from him was becoming too much. So, you quickly begin to make your way to the promised land, trailing kisses along the way.

“I missed you,” you puff out softly before wading your tongue across his nipple then under his chest and to his stomach. Releasing his cock, you slide your hands down his sides, making sure to keep them aligned with the movement of your kisses. “You don’t know how much.”

Zayne brushes his fingers along your hand, following down your arm before gently cupping the side of your face, his thumb gliding over your cheek in a tender return of your sentiment as his once proud demeanor in his eyes softens with the smallest of glances from you.

“Is it more than I’ve missed you?” he whispers, and when you nod, he smiles. “I don’t think that’s possible.” Seeing you like this, so beautiful, all his, is a luxury. “I never tire of seeing you.”

Feeling a rush of shyness overtake you, you muffle the small sigh of his name against his stomach. Butterflies filling your stomach, you slide further down and kneel, your knees digging into the end of the bed as you sit back on them, your ass in the air as you hover your face over his lap. He’s so big that you’re never entirely sure where to start. You could go for where he’s most sensitive or—

“You can always use your hands instead if you don't think you can fit it all in your mouth,” he instructs half-jokingly, causing you to grow flustered at your overthinking.

“This isn’t the first time, I know how—” You clamp your mouth shut when you remember the first time you tried, something you’re sure he wouldn’t let you forget. “Don’t,” you order before sliding your tongue over his tip to clean away the pre-cum.

Your tongue laps along his glans as you slowly take his head into your mouth. It’s only when you finally get to work, sliding your mouth halfway down then back up that he finally stops his teasing and lets you have your way with him.

There’s an audible sound of relaxation when you squeeze his base with your palm and purse your lips around him. There’s a certain pride that comes with knowing you’re the only one who can see him like this, with his shoulders lax, eyes closing in bliss, and jaw slightly slacked as he groans. It’s not an easy sight to imagine on someone as stern as Zayne but the look of arousal was also something that seemed like it was made for him, which only causes your legs to squirm with need when it evolves into a low grumble from his chest.

You push it a little further to turn it into a growl by relaxing your throat and allowing it to press against the back, pulling back up and slurping the sheen of saliva clean from him before lapping your tongue over the tip. When you repeat the process, his hips twitch and buck, causing you to whimper when you feel more liquid scalding down your throat.

With a quick reposition to sit up more and force you closer, he presses both hands to cup at your cheeks, lifting your head partway up as he lightly strokes your cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. Briefly, you look at him, heart fluttering a bit at the flush dusting the bridge of his nose and the wetness of his parted lips.

“You’re so good,” he breathes out, a chilly flow emanating from him, “so good for me.”

Blinking away the water in your eyes, you moan around him, the vibrations rolling down his heated flesh as you suck your cheeks around him as he holds your face. One hand goes to the back of your head, and you bob once again with the encouragement of his hand pressing down on your head.

“Fuck,” he hisses out when you pop him out your mouth and brush your lips down the side of his shaft. You pepper it in kitten kisses before nipping lightly. You squeeze around his tip, making it your mission to keep your thumb grinding his slit and blushing head while you cup and suck his balls.

When you feel them strain and tense, not once but twice in your mouth you have enough warning to know he’s about to cum. It’s with one last stroke of his shaft and one last quick suck around his head that he paints your mouth white, the excess seeping from your mouth and flooding over his length.

You take your time cleaning your mess, like you promised. It’s with slow, deliberate movements as you allow him to ride out his much too quickly fading high, the last throbbing spilling the last drops of his finish on your lips. You release him with a pop and a sigh.

“How messy,” he quietly remarks, causing you to tense as his thumb ghosts over your lips. “You missed a spot,” he explains and slides the finger into your mouth for you to readily close around. He wipes it clean against your tongue before sealing your mouth with a kiss. He slides his finger free from your kiss, and you can feel the lingering wetness of your saliva against your face when he holds you in place to kiss you more passionately.

His strength starts to become too much when he grips your shoulders, pushes you towards the bed, and pins you on your back.

Breaking the kiss and pushing against his arms, you puff out, “Wait, I’m supposed to be in charge today.”

“Sorry to change your plans, but I don’t think I can hold back anymore,” he explains with a growing smile that makes shivers climb up your spine from the sheer hunger in it. “Allow me to show you how much I missed you as well.”

[moonstruckme]

OOOOH Can i hop on the dr!rem train?!?! I would love to see how he is with someone who just doesn’t really take care of themselves. Like if something’s hurting they just power through. But of course he’s a dr so he’d know 🤔🤔💕💕💕💕

Ofc you can! This is precisely what I need him for haha. Also, when I wrote this my foot was still really hurting and now it feels tons better, so I think writing for him is healing me! Thanks for requesting my love <3

Doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

Remus looks up from his laptop when you hold a bowl of pasta up in front of him enticingly. “Aw, thanks, sweetheart,” he says, taking it from you. He’s been so caught up in his paperwork he hadn’t even heard you bustling around in the kitchen, but you’d been thoughtful enough to bring him his dinner on the couch rather than call him to the table. “You’re too good to me. I’ll be finished here in a minute.” 

“It’s no problem,” you say with a smile. “Oh, I forgot I made you tea, too. Just a second.” 

You go back towards the kitchen, and Remus thinks to go back to his laptop for the interval of your absence, but something about the way you’re moving catches his attention. You’re walking oddly, shifting an almost imperceptible amount of your weight to one side. It’s not quite a limp, but there’s a stiffness there. 

You disappear into the kitchen for half a second, and Remus watches you carefully when you return. Your strides are as quick as if nothing were amiss, but there’s definitely something bothering you. It doesn’t look like the problem is in your foot, or your knee, but maybe your hip…

You pass him the tea, and Remus takes it quickly, chiding you for holding the hot part to pass him the handle. You roll your eyes as you sit, constantly discounting what you consider to be your boyfriend’s overcaution. You never worry about yourself, Remus thinks. Everything that happens to you is secondary, of little concern compared to whatever’s going on with everyone else. You don’t watch out for yourself, and you don’t always welcome others doing it for you either. It makes being someone who loves you an occasionally worrying task. 

“How was your day, dovey?” Remus asks, shutting his laptop to enjoy the meal you’ve prepared for him. “I’ve been so focussed on work I’ve barely talked to you since I got home. How are you doing?” 

Your smile is tinged with bemusement, but they’re not such odd questions as to draw much suspicion. “Don’t worry about it, I know it’s important stuff. I’m good, honey, how are you?”

“I’m good too,” he says, twirling pasta around his fork and inhaling the steamy aroma of the herbs you’ve mixed in. “Fantastic, now.” You blush, looking down at your own bowl. “Do much walking around today?” 

Now your brows furrow, and you bring your fork to your mouth, chewing pensively. “Some,” you answer after a while. “Why do you ask?”

“I just noticed you’re walking a bit funny,” he says as casually as he can, knowing too much attention will only lead to you belittling more than you’re already inclined. “Is there something bothering you, love?”

“Oh, yeah,” you say, looking back to your bowl as though forking your pasta suddenly requires your undivided attention. “Think I twinged something in my leg earlier. It’s not bad, it’s just one of those things, you know? I’ll wake up tomorrow and it’ll be fine.” 

It takes a heap of willpower to keep Remus from rolling his eyes. That’s your go-to reaction anytime something’s bothering you: power through and hope it goes away on its own. As someone who knows better, it nettles him incessantly. “Why didn’t you say something earlier? I might be able to help.” 

“Because it’s not a big deal,” you say through a mouthful. “Anyway, you were busy.” 

“Never too busy for you,” he hums, setting down his plate to lean closer to you, and fine, he’s pandering. If making light of this is what’s going to get you to let him help, that’s what he’ll do. “Let me have a look?” he asks you sweetly.

You look at him, sucking a stray noodle into your mouth. “What, now?” 

“Sure,” he says, already moving to perch on the coffee table across from you. “Just to make sure that it’s fine and I don’t need to run to the drug store before it closes or anything.”

You sigh like you’re doing him a big favor. “Okay, but it’s really not bad. You don’t need to worry.” 

He hums noncommittally. “Straighten your leg out for me?” You do, and he takes your foot in his hand. “What part hurts, dove?” 

“Kinda, like—” You strain to lift one hip off the couch, touching the back of your thigh, “—like, all down here, ish.” 

Remus cocks his head. “Does it hurt when you flex your foot?” 

“A little,” you reply, nonchalant. 

He nods, standing. “Okay, I think I get the picture,” he says. “Lay down for me, please?”

You give him a deadpan look. “Rem, I’m just trying to eat.” 

“It’ll only take a second.” 

With an eye-roll that you make sure he sees, you set your plate down next to his on the coffee table, laying on your back. Remus sits by your feet, lifting one of your calves so he can see the back of your thigh. He runs a knuckle over the skin there, noticing it’s a bit more swollen than your other leg. “Here?” he asks you.

“Yeah.” 

Remus laughs silently at the sudden tight quality to your voice, thinking he knows the cause. He takes a detour to test his theory, migrating his touch further down until his knuckle skims the crease of your buttcheek. 

“Careful,” you murmur, tone slightly teasing. 

Remus tries and fails to suppress his grin as he forces himself back on task. “It looks like it’s your hamstring,” he says. “It’s a bit more swollen, but in a lot of cases there’ll be bruising too, and I don’t see any of that. Do you remember when you hurt it?” 

“Mhm.”

Remus decides not to question you further on that for now; he’ll lecture you on telling him these things more quickly later. “Did you hear any sort of popping noise?”

“No,” you say, sounding unsure. “I think I would’ve noticed, right?”

“You would have,” Remus reassures you, relieved. “It’s probably just a pulled muscle, then. I’m going to test it really quickly to be sure, okay?”

“Okay,” you say warily, and Remus has you flex your foot, taking your leg in both hands as he straightens it and lifts it upward. You hiss, and he stops. 

“That hurts?” 

“Yeah.” Your voice is tight again, now for the wrong reasons, and Remus lowers your leg carefully. 

“Alright, sorry.” He kisses your knee. “Well, at least it shouldn’t take too long to heal. I’ll get you an ice pack when we’re done eating, and I want you to elevate it and take ibuprofen.” 

You sit up, clearly ready for your boyfriend’s mollycoddling to be over as you grab for your bowl. “Already am,” you say with a smile that Remus supposes is meant to be reassuring. Instead, he frowns.

“Sweetheart.” He gives you an admonishing look. “You were taking painkillers for this and you weren’t going to tell me about it?” 

“Don’t be mad at me,” you say lightly. “I made you pasta.” 

Now it’s Remus who’s sighing laboriously, pressing a reluctant kiss to the side of your head. “I suppose that does make up for everything, doesn’t it?”

[lovelaughsimp]

Me turning into Hestia when someone ask me what do I love about Zayne :

My role model, what an inspiration

[popponn]

xavier rarely wakes up before you. most of the time, you will find his eyes still closed with his arms clinging to you or around you one way or another. but, on the days when his blue eyes are the ones that greet you first thing in the morning, you will be greeted with a soft whispered ‘good morning’ spoken in his morning voice. these kinds of mornings will start slowly with a shared smile and quiet conversation about mundane, small things. it could be the cat he saw yesterday or that particularly funny part from his dream. then, it will end with his nose brushing against yours gently. sometimes it will lead to a kiss, sometimes he will simply stay there with your forehead against each other’s. sometimes, it will lead to long hours of cuddling and going back to sleep. it is after all that, he will finally start his day along with yours. though, of course, as an end note, even if he doesn’t wake up first, please do always let him begin his days with you. he will still be drowsy—like always—but in a very embarrassingly obvious manner that his expression can’t hide, he will be happy.

zayne seems to develop a habit of taking care of your clothing at some point. it is subtle enough, but it is undeniably there. he often crouches down to tie your shoes for you—without you asking, despite your protests. if you say he doesn’t have to, he will simply say that it is more effective or faster that way, or that he simply doesn’t see a reason not to. if you feel bad, you could return him by doing a favor anyway, he reasons. afterward, it will continue into him adjusting the scarf around your neck, tidying a crease on your collar, or zipping up your jacket right before the two of you go out. he too doesn’t shy from putting your lipstick or lip balm on for you. at some point, during a break day, you might find him sitting on the sofa, reading and watching tutorials about skincare or makeup. if you approach him, expect him to ask you to watch it along with him, though in through mister doctor fashion it might lead to journal and research about cosmetics that he will read to you.

rafayel loves your attention. and it shows—in a very annoying way that unfortunately has found its way to be adorable to your heart. he unabashedly wears a smug smile and keeps on mentioning how you couldn’t stay away from him whenever he spoons you. if you are the one spooning him, turns out he is not above acting like a spoiled brat who demands affection until he is sated. in a way, it is similar to having a puppy that is a fish and a lover at the same time. but beyond all his louder actions, there will always be a part of him that is softer in the way of a cozy rain and a warm blanket. it’s the part of him who will always listen to whatever you say and the part of him that will, will always have you as his ‘happy ending’ no matter what. the part of him that shows itself in the form of a smile full of yearning even when he cups your face with both of his hands. he has his secrets and his affection for you is not one of them. yet, despite everything, it still feels like he couldn’t quite manage to get all of it out for you. so, at least, when it is time for him to give you a glimpse into how much he holds you dear, do give him your undivided attention.

[kitixie]

Little Girl Gone (pt 3)

Synopsis: After Tommy fixes you up, you can't help but let old feelings get in the way. Then, the unexpected happens.

word count 2.8k

information/warnings: cursing, talk of death, not too much, the LIGHTEST hint of smut activity. this chapter is very strange to me, i wrote 3 different versions of it, and this is the one that i felt would carry the story further. not proofread!!

taglist: @budugu, @ajmiila02, @filmtv2022, @cyphah, @ce1iat, @thenattitude

thank you all so so much for reading, i hope you enjoy this chapter!! please leave a comment if you had questions, critiques, anything!

As you sat in the back office of the Garrison, waiting for Thomas, you heard the wails of a man coming from the bar. You could hear every single time a punch connected here, a kick landed there, and the screams that punctuated each. If you strained your ears hard enough, you could hear small grunts and pants of air coming from another man, who you assumed to be Tommy. The beating continued for another few moments, and all you could do was listen. The cries and moans of pain eventually stopped, followed by a distinct voice. 

“Get ‘em out of my fuckin’ pub. I’ve got to go see about my girl.” 

It was Tommy, and he called you ‘his girl’ in front of everyone. 

Tommy entered the office, wiping his hands with a bar rag. You noticed the slight red tinge on the cloth, but decided to let him handle it, he was Tommy Shelby after all, surely he’d had worse than a couple of bruised knuckles. You watched him, as he cleaned his hands and then looked at you. Without speaking, he moved to his desk and opened one of the lower drawers. He pulled out a small white box, marked on the top by a small red cross. 

“C’mere, Love. Let me see that cut.” He said, motioning for you to sit on his desk while he sat in his chair. 

You walked towards him, wringing your hands together out of nervousness. Not only were you nervous because you were about to have his undivided attention, but him calling you ‘his girl’ still rang loud in your mind. You approached his desk, standing in front of where he was seated in his chair. He stood, hooking his hands under your arms, and lifted you so that your ass was directly on top of his desk; you were fairly certain you were sitting on some important legal documents. He softly grabbed your chin, and tilted your head to the side, allowing for him to get a clear view of your face. He gave a little ‘hmph’ and opened the first aid box. He pulled out a spray, an ointment, and a bandage. You realized how lucky you were to not need stitches when you saw the plain needle and thread also in the box. 

“This is going to sting Love, so just sit still for me, okay?” He spoke, turning your head so that you had to look him in the eye. 

“Okay, Tommy.” You nodded. 

He began with the spray, which stung like hell, but you were tough and you wanted to be good for him so you sat still as frozen concrete. The small smile that appeared on his face at your little grimace didn’t go unnoticed. 

“Good girl. The next thing shouldn’t sting, but still, don’t move.” He said, the deep baritone of his voice making your ears heat up. 

While Tommy was applying the ointment and bandage to your forehead, the two of you began talking. He told you a little bit about the war, as you were young and left almost as soon as he got back. He still felt guilty speaking about it to you now, in his mind you were innocent, despite how you just beat a grown man's ass into the dirt a few moments prior. He thought that you should never have to know about war, about mass casualty. He told you about the tunnels he helped dig and operate, and every once in a while when he would get choked up, you would rub your hand along his arm that was still doctoring your face. One particular moment made you realize just what he had been through. 

“We were down there, it was dark and it stunk. My God, Y/N, it stunk. People died down there and we had no way to get them out, no way to even try and get them help. Towards the end, one of my comrades, one of the few I was actually friendly with, he got hit. We never even saw it coming. He got left down there, and sometimes, I still see him…” Tommy trailed off. 

You watched him with sympathy as a single tear rolled out of his eye. Tommy had seen you cry plenty, but this was the first time you had ever even seen his eyes water. 

“Shh, it’s okay, Tom. Why don’t I tell you more about my time up North? Did you know thats where I went? Up North?” You said softly, trying to get him to come out of his head and back into the present with you. 

“I knew you went North, Y/N. I called around about you until I found someone who knew where you were. I just wanted to know you were safe.” He said. 

Tommy had looked for you? Not only looked, but he knew where you were this entire time? So much for ever truly getting away from the Shelby’s, you laughed at yourself. 

“Well then how come I never heard from you? If you knew where I was, why didn’t you ever stop in? Or were you watching me so that you’d be able to stop me from ever coming back?” You scoffed, now leaning back on your hands since he was done with your cut. 

“Of course I wanted you to come home, Y/N. I didn’t reach out because I thought you ran away from me. I didn’t want to scare you off the continent, so I settled for just knowing you were safe.” He replied, packing up his first aid box. 

You studied his expression, and savored his words in your mind. You had been holding feelings for Tommy since you were 16. You were both grown now, and although you couldn’t be certain, the things he was saying sounded an awful lot like something you’d say to someone you cared for. You decided to bite the bullet, and expose your younger self. 

“Look Thomas, we’re both grown, professional, adults right?” You said, cocking your head to the side. 

“...Right?” He answered, giving you a puzzled look. 

“Well then, I’m just going to out myself, and if you don’t like what I have to say then we’ll pretend I didn’t say it,” you paused, just trying to see if he would interrupt, he didn’t. “I have looked at you in so many ways Tommy. I’ve seen you be a brother, a friend, an enemy, but all you ever were to me, since I was sixteen years old, was Tommy. My Tommy. I have pined after you and wanted you since I was sixteen, and you never gave me the time of day. I don’t know what you mean by all of what you’ve said, especially earlier when you were poking fun at me over dinner, but I can see that you care for me Tommy. I’m not sure how thick you think these walls are, but I heard you call me ‘your girl’ earlier. You have opened up to me without reserve like I have never seen you do before Thomas. Never. I’m saying all this to say a few things. One, I didn’t say goodbye to you because I couldn’t face you. I knew that if I had to look at you, and have one last conversation, that I would hold onto that for the rest of my life, and those words would be the only ones of yours that I could ever hear in my head. Two, I want you to understand, and make no mistake, that I like you Thomas. Not just in a ‘well he’s fine, I like him way’, but in a way that makes my ears hot, that makes me want to giggle like a child and swing my arms around. I like you in a way that is bordering on love, Tommy. And three, I need to know if you feel the same way. I need to know. Even if you don’t, even if you have never looked at me like that and you never will, and all I will ever be to you is an annoying family friend, I need to know.”

You took a deep breath, unsure of what was going to come next. You felt a single tear roll down your cheek, but not from sadness, from relief. You had been holding onto these feelings for years, you never shared them with anyone, their weight was your own. You watched his face as he processed all of this. Practically watched the wheels turn in his brain. You had watched him so much, that you had his beautiful face committed to memory, forevermore trapped in your brain. This version of Tommy, the version where he hadn’t yet opened his mouth to tell you that he doesn’t like you, that he doesn’t see you like that, was perfect. He was beautiful, all soft pink lips and tortured blue eyes. You even thought the dark colors under his eyes from being sleep deprived were pretty. You took one last photo of him in your mind, before he opened his mouth. He stood from his chair, putting him above your eye level. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it shut again. He did this a few times, each time the look in his eye changing with the opening and closing of his mouth. Finally, he spoke. 

“Y/N, I am rarely left speechless, but I think you’ve caught me here, Love.” He said softly, bringing his hand up to cradle your jaw. 

He leaned his head in towards you, slower than you ever thought it possible for a human to move. Once you realized what was happening, a million thoughts ran through your head. Were you really about to kiss Thomas Shelby? Was he really about to kiss you? Here? In his office? You never imagined this would be his response to your love-fueled ramblings, but this was the best outcome you ever could’ve hoped for. You had fallen for this man many years ago, but those feelings weren’t like regular school-yard crushes. They never went away, never dwindled, never stopped or changed in any negative value. You had filled your own head with imagined words he’d said to you, convincing yourself that if he ever noticed you, just once if he could see you for the woman you truly are, that he would love you, or like you at least. But now, after you had confessed and outed and embarrassed yourself in his office, now is when he chooses to notice you? Here? While your face is bandaged up from a bar brawl that you got into? You weren’t the typical woman that Tommy Shelby went for, not now. He would go for women who were outwardly dainty, yet fierce inside. Women who carried small pocket knives in their dress pockets, and would brandish them as a ‘party trick’. Tommy Shelby did not go for women who held their own, physically. He did not go for women who stole knives off of fighting opponents, who held their composure getting fixed up in a dark back office, women who went away for five years and turned up without so much as a ‘hello’ or ‘goodbye’. 

Your inner monologue quickly settled, as you realized that you had created all of those thoughts within a few milliseconds, as here stood Thomas before you, still leaning in to press his lips to yours. You waited, breath hitched, eyes slowly closing, lips slowly parting, your hand coming to rest on his waist, just waiting for the fiery moment when his lips touched yours. 

“Aye!” A crash came through the doorway. 

Tommy jerked back, taking his hand and all your thoughts with him. You stared at him with an open mouth, chest moving wildly up and down, and then turned to the man who ruined your fucking moment. Arthur Shelby. 

“What in the hell do ya’ two think your doin’? ‘Specially you, Y/N. Why the fuck are ya startin’ fights in my pub?” Arthur asked, his hands resting on his hips. 

“I didn’t start shit, Arthur. Maybe make sure you don’t let fuckin’ creeps in the door and I wouldn’t have to teach these men a thing or two!” You shouted, mad at Arthur for many reasons. 

One, how dare he come in here and start talking at you, not even asking if you’re okay? Two, He just ruined the best fucking moment you’d had in five long, miserable, dry years. 

“Oi, Arthur, you could at least ask her if she's okay,” Tommy remarked, turning his attention towards you again. 

You stared at the two brothers, feeling the slightest bit unhinged. You had yelled at Arthur when he was acting like a reasonable buisness man, of course he’d want to know why there had been a knife fight in his pub. However, would it have fuckin’ killed him to wait five more seconds before he came barging in? 

“Arthur, I’ll go over all the details tomorrow,” Tommy spoke again, “For now, lets get Y/N back to Watery Lane. I’m sure news has spread and Ada and Pol will skin me if I don’t let them see her in one piece before I take her home.” 

The three of you headed outside, loading up into the Shelby car. You sat in the back, with Tommy driving and Arthur in the passenger seat. There was no conversation made on the way back to the Shelby home, only silence. You watched as buildings passed out of the window, wondering what was going to come of you and Tommy now? There had been such a buildup, and obviously he felt some kind of way about you, right? 

Once the three of you made it to Watery Lane, it was absolutely pouring outside. A thunderstorm had come from seemingly nowhere, lighting the sky up in streaks of white-purple light every few seconds. The rain fell heavily against the roof and windows of the car, and Tommy offered you his jacket as a cover for your head. You accepted his offering, and the lot of you scurried as fast as you could into the foyer of the home. 

“Y/N, I don’t think I’ll be able to take you home tonight, Love. Are you comfortable staying here?” Tommy asked, now that Arthur had wandered off deeper into the house. 

“Of course, Tommy. It won’t be the first time I’ve slept here. But is there room for me?” You questioned, realizing that either everyone was home (for once), meaning all rooms were occupied. 

“Don’t worry about that, we’ll find you a good place to sleep.” He said, a sly smile coming across his face. 

After explaining the whole situation to Polly and Ada, you were beyond tired. It was well past midnight at this point, and you could barely hold your eyes open. Tommy seemed to take notice, and bid the two other women goodnight for the both of you. He took your hand and lead you up the stairs to his room. 

“You can borrow some of my clothes to sleep in, okay, Love? I’m going to go to the bathroom to change, just open the door when it’s safe for me to come back in.” He said, handing you a folded up shirt and pair of boxers. 

You quickly stripped off the wet clothes, hanging them to dry in his closet. You ran your fingers through your damp hair, trying your best to smooth it out from the rough night you’d had. You cracked open the door of Tommy’s room, and saw him standing in the hallway, gazing at the door. Once he snapped out of his trance, he came into his room and shut his door behind him. 

“You look good in my clothes, Y/N.” He whispered, barely loud enough to be heard. 

You felt your cheeks blush at his comment. You saw him walk behind you, and then heard the creaking of bed springs. 

“Where am I going to sleep, Thomas?” You asked, not understanding why he was getting into bed when the situation hadn’t been resolved. 

“Right ‘ere, Love,” he patted the other side of his bed, “I don’t bite, I promise.” He smiled. 

You gave him a hesitant look before climbing into his bed, suddenly feeling relaxed by his smell. His presence was all around you. You could smell him on the sheets, you could hear his breathing behind you as you lay on your side, and then, you could feel his arm around your waist as he pulled your back flush to his warm, bare chest. 

“Goodnight, Y/N. Sleep well, Love.” Tommy whispered, still holding his grip on you. 

“Goodnight, Tommy.” 

[callmedaleelah]

— Pinnacle [ tsukishima kei university au series ]

— i’m seeing visions am i bad? ; take care of yourself and stop pulling those all nighters just because you have upcoming exams ahead, or you’ll end up in infirmary clinic—with the grumpy professor’ assistant

author’s notes : no mention of (y/n), written in second person pov, semi alternative universe, timeskip!tsukishima, college life, not proofread, english is not my first language

[ masterlist ] | [ ask daleelah go to box box 🐭 ]

The final semester exams were in full swing, and you were feeling the pressure more than ever. Every subject demanded your undivided attention, and as a first-year biochemistry major, failure was not an option. You pulled all-nighters, frantically cramming every piece of information from your textbooks into your brain. Fear of missing even a single fact kept you awake, but the stress took its toll. Meals were skipped, and the vitamins and tonics meant to keep you healthy were forgotten.

On the day of your organic chemistry exam, you felt especially drained. After scribbling down the last answer, you rushed to the library, searching for a quiet corner to study for the next exam, molecular biology. However, as you settled down, the pounding in your head became unbearable. Dizziness washed over you, and a sharp pain gnawed at your stomach. You realized with a start that you hadn’t eaten since last night, surviving only on an energy drink that morning.

Determined to push through, you tried to focus, but the pain worsened with every passing second. Defeated, you decided to head to the infirmary clinic near the library. As you walked, you felt the concerned stares of people passing by, noticing how pale and sickly you looked. You tried to brush it off, but by the time you reached the clinic, your body was on the verge of collapse.

A doctor approached you as soon as you entered, noticing your condition immediately. She moved quickly, guiding you to a bed. She began checking your condition, administering an injection to ease the pain and preparing an IV to replenish your strength. The curtains around the bed were left open in the rush, exposing you to the rest of the clinic.

“Do you feel any pain here?” she asked, pressing her palm gently to your abdomen.

You nodded, unable to speak, a small whimper escaping your lips as the pain intensified. Your mind was in a haze, each throb of pain pulling you further from reality.

Meanwhile, Tsukishima was in the clinic as well, getting his hands wrapped in bandages before volleyball practice. His gaze shifted to the source of the painful whimpers, and his heart clenched when he saw you lying on the bed. The sight of you in such a fragile state unnerved him in a way he didn’t expect.

“Oh, Tsukishima, are you done with the bandages? You can place the box on my table,” the doctor said while tending to you.

Tsukishima was confused but couldn’t tear his eyes away from your pained expression, your hand gripping your abdomen as if to ward off the agony. He felt an unfamiliar concern bubbling up inside him, and it bothered him how deeply it affected him.

“What happened to her?” he asked, his tone unusually soft. He didn’t understand why he felt compelled to know, why seeing you like this made him feel so uneasy.

“Do you know her?” the doctor replied. “She came in a few minutes ago, nearly collapsing. It looks like she has a stomach ache due to high stomach acid, likely from skipping meals and excessive stress.” She finished setting up the IV, and your whimpers finally ceased as you began to calm down.

Tsukishima placed the box on the table as instructed but found himself returning to your side. The doctor noticed his concern and, knowing him as a university athlete, asked if he needed to leave for practice.

But Tsukishima didn’t answer immediately. He just stood there, watching you, his heart heavy with worry. “If you can, please sit here beside her and help me fill out her health form. She’ll need a doctor’s note for a few days to recover,” the doctor requested.

He agreed without hesitation, pulling up a chair beside your bed. He didn’t know why he was doing this, why he felt this strange responsibility to make sure you were okay. After assisting with the form, he remained seated, silently observing your pale face. He sighed, feeling an inexplicable urge to stay. Without a second thought, he texted his coach, explaining his absence from practice.

When you finally woke up, the bright lights above you made you wince. Your head was still spinning, and your body felt weak. Blinking against the harsh light, you were startled to see Tsukishima standing beside your bed, placing a bowl of food on the table next to you.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, your voice raspy and surprised. You could hardly believe your eyes—of all people, Tsukishima was the last person you expected to be at your side.

“The doctor said you need to eat immediately after your...” he glanced at his watch, “three-hour nap.” His tone was laced with his usual sarcasm, but there was a hint of something else in his eyes—something softer.

“You waited for me?” The idea of him staying with you all this time made your heart skip a beat. It didn’t make sense—why would he do that?

“Yeah, it seems like you really have a lot of ways to trouble me,” he replied, his voice cool, but there was an undercurrent of something warmer, something he wasn’t quite ready to acknowledge.

“I didn’t mean to…” you murmured, feeling a wave of guilt wash over you. You didn’t want to be a burden to anyone, least of all him.

“It’s alright. The doctor asked me to help, so I did.” He tried to downplay his actions, not wanting you to think he was overly concerned. He didn’t want to admit, even to himself, that he was doing this for more than just a favor to the doctor. “Here, eat this,” he said, handing you a bowl of zosui—a simple rice porridge that was gentle on the stomach.

You tried to eat, but the IV in your right hand made it difficult. Seeing your struggle, Tsukishima sighed and took the spoon from you, beginning to feed you himself. The gesture was unexpected, and it sent a flutter of emotions through you.

“I can eat by myself,” you protested weakly, feeling a mix of embarrassment and gratitude. The idea of him feeding you felt too intimate, too close.

“Yeah, I know. And you’ll probably finish it tomorrow at this rate,” he shot back, his tone a mix of annoyance and concern. He was trying to maintain his usual cool demeanor, but the way you looked at him, with those tired, grateful eyes, made it hard to keep up the act.

Flustered and embarrassed, you gave in, allowing him to feed you in silence. Your cheeks flushed, not just from the warmth of the zosui but from the unexpected tenderness he was showing you. Despite his sharp tongue, there was no denying the care hidden beneath his sarcastic exterior.

As he fed you, a strange warmth filled your chest, and you couldn’t help but wonder if this was the real Tsukishima—someone who, despite his aloof demeanor, cared deeply about those around him, maybe?

After you finished the last bite of zosui, Tsukishima watched you closely. His expression was as stoic as ever, but there was a hint of something lighter in his tone when he spoke. “Now you realize how hungry you are after skipping meals for... who knows how long,” he teased, his voice low and slightly mocking.

You felt a rush of embarrassment at his words, knowing he was right. You had neglected your health in the pursuit of academic success, and now it was catching up to you. But before you could dwell on it, your thoughts shifted to something far more pressing—the exam tomorrow. It was the last day of exams, and the pressure to perform well weighed heavily on you. You couldn’t afford to get sick now. You should be pulling one final all-nighter, not lying here in the infirmary. But could you even manage to study in this state? Would you be able to nail it?

As these worries swirled in your mind, Tsukishima noticed the change in your expression. You were lost in thought, your face etched with concern. “What are you worrying about?” he asked, his tone cool and controlled, though there was a slight edge of curiosity.

“My last exam is tomorrow,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. You wanted to tell him how scared you were of failing, but you knew that he didn’t need to hear the details of your fears.

“What about it?” he pressed, sensing there was more to your anxiety.

“I haven’t studied enough for it, and I heard the doctor would send a permission note excusing me from tomorrow’s test,” you hesitated, unsure if you should continue, but the words came out anyway, your voice shaky with fear. “I can’t skip it, even if I have a legal reason. My mom will find out—” You paused, seeing the concern deepen in his frown. “She already made a holiday plan for after I finish my exams, so I can’t miss it and reschedule for another day.”

Tsukishima’s eyes narrowed slightly, and he couldn’t help but tease you a little despite the seriousness of your concerns. “Well, it’s your job to tell her that you got sick after pulling those all-nighters all week to study.” He thought his sarcasm might lighten the mood, but when he saw your face fall even further, he quickly stopped. His expression softened just a bit, though his tone remained firm. “I mean, she’d understand your reason and postpone the holiday. It’s your holiday she’s planning, right? So what’s the point of planning it if you’re the one who can’t go as scheduled?”

He was trying to ease your anxiety, but he could tell his words weren’t quite enough to pull you out of your spiraling thoughts. “Hey, are you listening?” he asked, leaning slightly closer to catch your gaze.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, feeling overwhelmed. “I just don’t think that would make my mom happy.”

Tsukishima sighed, sensing your deep concern. “It’s molecular biology, right?” he guessed, knowing your exam schedule. When you nodded, he continued, “I asked one of your classmates to send her notes to your email so you can study. I know you wouldn’t want to miss it.”

“Who? And how?” you stuttered, confused by his unexpected help.

“Does it matter?” he replied coolly, brushing off your questions. “You should just start studying now. Your IV fluids are still halfway to go—do it here.”

Without waiting for a response, Tsukishima reached for your bag, pulling out your iPad and other study materials. He placed them on the table attached to your bed, ensuring everything was within easy reach.

As you looked at the setup, a wave of gratitude mixed with anxiety washed over you. You couldn’t believe that Tsukishima, of all people, had gone out of his way to help you like this. The two of you shared a quiet, comforting silence as you began to study for tomorrow’s exam. Despite the stress and the lingering pain, you felt a small sense of relief knowing that you weren’t facing this alone.

In that small infirmary room, amidst the chaos of exams and the uncertainty of what lay ahead, there was a quiet, unspoken connection between you and Tsukishima—one that neither of you fully understood yet, but that was undeniably there.

taglist (free to mention) ; @theweirdfloatything

[thatstonedwriter]

⋆｡˚ 「 X-tremely Dangerous 」 ⋆｡˚

◉ Sinopsis; their s/o comes back with serious injuries after an intense day of extreme sports

◉ feat; poly Fizzmodeus, Stolas, Blitzø

── ˙•˚∘✮🌙ᯓ🪐˙•˚∘ ──

It had been an awesome day. You'd kicked absolute ass during the Field Day event, and were so excited to run home and brag to your partner(s) about it! There was just one small hiccup- your injuries were really bad, but you didn't want your partner(s) to worry. Unfortunately, it's a little late for that.

Fizzarolli and Asmodeus were so excited for you! Although, if you're coming home to these two with bruises and, god forbid- broken bones? They want names. Luckily, all injuries resulted from a good time, so there were no hard feelings (at least from you). While Asmodeus patches you up, he and Fizz listen to you excitedly talk about your day. The two are impressed- not just by your physical capabilities- your competitiveness, passion, and sportsmanship are all admirable qualities. If you do end up having a sprain or fracture, it's just an excuse for Asmodeus to cater to your every need while Fizzarolli snuggles up to you. While, of course, they worry for your physical safety, Fizzarolli and Asmodeus are excited to see you so passionate! Because of your injuries, you may be unable to participate in Field Days for a while. In the meantime, while you're waiting to heal, laying in their arms is a nice way to relax.

┊┊┊✧ ⁺ ⁺ 　°

Stolas is worried sick when you come home with such severe injuries. He knew you were headed out to a Field Day event, but that couldn't have caused these injuries right (it did). Stolas barely knows first aid, so he calls a doctor to do a home visit for you. For the next month or so, no strenuous activity- doctor's orders. Once you've been taken care of, Stolas brings you to the bedroom, where he fusses over you constantly. Do you have enough blankets? Here, he'll have someone refill your water. Have you taken your pain meds? It's a bit much, but his concern is appreciated. When Stolas gets over his initial worry, y'all can relax in bed, cuddling to your heart's content. While Stolas has plenty of hired help, there are some things he'd prefer to do for you to show that he cares. That includes helping you get cleaned up, attempting to make food, and changing your bandages. Honestly, spending the next month like this doesn't sound horrible, especially since you've got Stolas' undivided attention.

┊┊┊✧ ⁺ ⁺ 　°

Blitzø is so bummed he didn't get to join you. Games?? He loves games!! At first, your injuries don't really register to him. Blitzø is so used to dealing with cuts and broken bones while working, but when he sees you struggling to walk or notices you can't use your hand, he gets concerned. Blitzø is pretty good at first aid, so expect to be sat down on the couch while he patches you up. He grumbles the whole time about how you need to be more careful- but he's impressed by your commitment to the bit. Unfortunately, the extent of your injuries means you're gonna be bench for a bit, but not to worry! Blitzø is great company. Y'all spend lots of time on the couch binging reality TV and indulging in your favorite snacks. Blitzø orders everything to be delivered so y'all can stay comfortable. As you heal up, I think he'd make a lot of comments about how cool your new scars are and that you look like a badass.

── ˙•˚∘✮ 🔭๋࣭ᯓ🌙˙•˚∘ ──

[temis-de-leon]

Day 3 - Accidental kiss

Characters: Mammon x male!MC

25 kisses challenge Masterlist

Main Masterlist

CW: one (1) mention of a fight and blood, MC is almost as tall as Mammon, pre-established relationship, mutual pinning, they're kinda dumb

.

“WHAT?!”

MC was completely sure he’d need to book an appointment with his assigned doctor to check on his ear drums. He couldn’t even hear his own voice when he screamed at Mammon, who looked just as lost as him. The music was too loud, even for a demon apparently, making the floor pulsate along the rhythm and sending everyone to a frenzy. The only reason he was still close to Mammon was because his white hair glowed under the UV lights.

Although, another reason MC should take into consideration was his hidden feelings for his friend; something he still rejected because… What? How did it happen? One day they were play fighting because Mammon ate his stack of snacks and the next he was too embarrassed to even look at him without stuttering.

And around the same time, Mammon began demanding his undivided attention, so, were his feelings reciprocated and they were both stupid? Or did Mammon just miss their previous friendship? Either way, MC had to get his shit together before making things even more awkward.

Bringing him back to the real world, Mammon shook his head, running a hand through his hair before grabbing MC’s arm and pulling him infuriatingly close to his body. The air grew hot around them and when Mammon spoke directly into his ear, a whole wave of goose bumps made MC tremble.

“I said we should go home! There’s a fight right behind you!”

His eyes opened in surprise and he quickly turned around in morbid curiosity. Sure enough, a couple of demons were throwing punches and head-butting each other with their horns, just like mountain goats. The comparison made him chuckle, but suddenly he saw blood.

“Okay, maybe we should!”

The demon started walking away, but he didn’t have time to search for a way out before someone bumped into MC and sent him deeper into Mammon’s arms.

They were both tall, almost the same height.

Had MC been a little bit shorter, his face would’ve ended in the crook of Mammon’s neck.

But he was tall.

He didn’t even realize they were kissing until everyone around them gave them enough space to move away from each other. His lips stung where they clashed against Mammon’s teeth and his chin hurt like crazy, but he didn’t care. MC had the taste of sweetness in his mouth and he was completely sure he’d seen Mammon drinking something sugary at the start of the night.

Without realizing what he was doing, he licked his lips. Mammon stared at his actions with wide eyes.

“Someone pushed me” he said, still close enough to be properly heard. He just hoped the music covered the beat of his heart.

“Yeah, yeah, sure”

MC whished the disappointment in Mammon’s eyes was real, but he felt his whole body tingling and his mind was buzzing in excitement, so he knew he couldn’t trust himself at the moment. Or any other moment, for that matter. There was no doubt he’d be reliving the kiss for the rest of the night, even if it was accidental.

“But, like… It wasn’t bad, right?”

Mammon said something else after that, lowering his gaze and scratching his neck, but his voice was too low and MC wasn’t able to understand him.

What did he say?

WHAT DID HE SAY??

“It could’ve been better”

They stayed in silence for a few seconds, some people still screaming to stop or encourage the fight and others swaying in the dancefloor, lost in the music and the intimacy of the violet lights. Mammon’s face would’ve been funny in any other situation, but right now, MC wanted him to say something. Even if it was stupid.

To his surprise, the demon hid a cheeky smirk behind his hand.

Before MC could question anything, he felt skilled fingers confidently grabbing his nape and dragging him forward.

“Wanna try again?”

.

.

Taglist: @ourfinalisation  @owlisbuffering  @chizukimp4  @ravenredwine @darkflowerav  @beatlebeesstuff

[thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch]

w.count: 1.9k - y/n is implied to have hair long enough to pull back, you know that one hairstick scene in apothecary diaries? yeahhh :))

"do your arms ever get sore from doing your hair like that?"

the sudden question caught baizhu off guard. you were sitting at his desk early in the morning as he was still getting himself up, around and ready. he had asked you to stop by the pharmacy before your day began since you were planning to head out towards mondstadt for a commission that could take up to a weeks' time.

you felt bad coming by so early, especially if you would be waking him up (lord knows he doesn't get enough rest as much as he insists he does). still, despite your worries, he insisted.

it was rare to see him with his long, green hair loose without any ties or his two-pronged hair stick. it was even longer without it being styled, hanging close to the back of his knees. on top of that, he still hadn't put on his glasses, so with his face bare of his 'eyes' and framed by his hair- well, it was a very rare baizhu to witness.

chengsheng was still curled up asleep on a small cushion that sat on top of a stool that stayed near baizhu's bed. as opposed to her morning person of a contractor, she was no morning snake.

as you sit and wait for him to start lecturing you on what herbs or slaves to use and when to use them before packing them away for you- he began tying his hair. watching him pull his front hair back into the bun that would always be perfect and securing it with his double-pronged hair stick, your mouth just starts before you can stop it.

chuckling, he lowers his arms and brushes a few strands of his long hair off his shoulder.

"no i can't say that they do. i've dealt with it long enough my arms are used to it."

fussing with your own hair by twirling a piece around your finger, you shudder at the thought of all the tangles or knots he must experience on a day-to-day basis before he tames it all.

"even if i did feel soreness, i can't simply leave it down now can i?"

you nod along to his point. it would be pretty bad if a pharmacist left his hair down and let it get in the way of his work. not to mention it just wasn't a good look as a doctor. no one wants to get medicine with the bonus addition of green hair.

after properly securing the hair stick in place, he pulls the long strands that are left over his shoulder and starts dividing them into sections for his braid. he did it effortlessly, hardly tangling at all due to practice; his eyes even closed for a while like he found it relaxing!

once he was finished, he could tell you weren't exactly paying attention to reality anymore and your mind was wandered off somewhere else away from him. it was easy for baizhu to read you- you were a pretty expressive person; at least around him. with his hair finished, he slides his glasses over his eyes and lets out a small deflation of relief at finally being able to see properly.

you finally came back to him when he sets a small, drawstring sack that was easily able to attach to your belt in front of your elbow that rested on his desk.

after coming back from your thoughts, you jolted at how close he had gotten. bent at the waist to get a better look at your face as his arm that dropped the sack moved to rest behind his back. baizhu was a man who values undivided attention when conversing and eye contact alone means more to him than most people. it makes him feel respected despite his frail constitution.

although, he admits a small piece of himself finds it entertaining to see people become antsy at prolonged eye contact (he could always tell when they start looking at his forehead or nose instead of his eyes). he never told you that though- it would ruin all the fun.

"oh, sorry," you meekly apologize as he moves to sit in the small stool opposite of you instead of his own proper chair on the other side of the desk. "i didn't realize I zoned out."

"i don't mind," he tells you earnestly. "it's good to see you relax before a long trip."

"mondstadt is hardly a marvelous trek."

"that doesn't take away from the fact that making the trip can be dangerous. who knows what enemies are camping out along the paths."

"i can handle it."

"yes, i know." he does this often. frets over things he knows isn't a big problem in the long run just for the harmless banter with you. besides, the looming threat of enemies is the whole reason he's sending you off with medicine in the first place! he's teasing, and he can see it on your face when you realize and stop responding in order to quell his indulgence.

instead, you turn your sights to the bag. 'let's see', you think as you pull the bag open and start sifting through the contents to see what all he packed. you can also guess how much mora you'll owe him after seeing the goods.

baizhu watched you intently as you dug around in the bubu pharmacy labeled sack. perhaps it was because of your previous converstaion, but he couldn't help but watch as your hair shifted with your movements.

craned over, your hair covered the small part of your face that faced him. the curtain of hair made him realize that you hadn't yet put it up like you usually did- especially when you were about to depart on an expedition.

"your trip to mondstadt," he says lowly as he moves to rest his elbow on the desktop with his curled fingers holding his chin. he wasn't usually one to slouch, but it was early, and he was with only you, so his lazed state was deemed acceptable. "you said you'll be traveling with a group yes?"

"hmm," you hum affirmatively. "some millelith are escorting me to the stone gate. after, i'll be meeting with some knights across the border." while you retell the how's of your trip, you never once look at him. instead, you keep your eyes on your acquired items. he sure packed it full.

"i see," he hums. he quietly lifts himself from his stool and just as quietly moves to stand at your back.

you notice his presence behind you too late because before you can ask what he's doing, his hands come into contact with your loose hair. you feel his knuckles brush against your neck and his fingertips snag and gently tug among the strands as he starts pulling it back. one hand combs through your tresses while the other gathers it all in his palm.

you sit extremely still. not just because you were frozen in shock, but a part of you didn't want to mess up whatever it was that he was doing. your throat closed up as well, so even though you wanted to ask what in the world spurred this on, you couldn't. instead, you studied the shadows casted by his paneled windows caused by the morning sun that was finally starting to rise.

you'd have to leave soon.

before long, you felt him twist your hair before putting a band around it and after he placed something else in it to pin it properly in place.

"there," he mutters as he steps away from your back. you twist to look at him, your hand coming to lightly ghost over your hair. you want to try and get a mental image of what he had done, but he quickly stops you from doing so. the tips of his fingers softly push your arm back towards your lap before leaning down to look at you again in the face. "you wouldn't want to mess it up, now would you?"

you silently shake your head. with him bent at his waist for the second time this morning, you notice that his hair was loose again.

"baizhu-"

"the sun is rising," he interrupts. standing up straight, he offers his hand properly to help you stand. "you best be off soon."

looking behind his shoulder, you see the sunshine beyond the windows. as confused as you were and despite all the questions you had, he has a point. you couldn't keep the millelith waiting. so, you accept his hand and stand. you peek to see if chengsheng had woken up, but she was still blissfully sleeping on her cushion.

"tell chengsheng that im sorry i missed saying goodbye to her. i'll make it up to her next time." she was fond of you after all.

"of course." walking you out, he opens his door and leads you to the long stone staircase. you wave to both gui and qiqi who had already made their way into the pharmacy to start their day. with a few more words, you bid farewell to the good doctor before racing down the stairs to meet with your group.

as he watches you swing a left into town at the bottom of the steps, he feels a tug on his pant leg. looking down, he see's little qiqi and kneels to get eyelevel with her.

"yes, qiqi?"

"doctor baizhu... your hair is still down." baizhu chuckles.

"ah, yes. i must've forgotten to do it this morning." his hand comes to pat her hat-clad head. "thank you for reminding me." qiqi felt gleeful at being the one to remember something for once and she nods at him when he stands and moves to return to his room.

he'd have to settle for a slightly different hair style today. as chengsheng wakes up and sees her contractor with a pair of chopsticks crossed in his bun instead of his special hair stick and a braided ribbon instead of a clear band for his braid, she grows curious.

"what happened to your normal thingss?" she inquires as he offers his arm to her and lets her slither up it to coil around his neck. he chuckles as her head moves to stay lifted around his face for easy conversing.

"i lent them to someone." he moves to leave his room for the second time that morning but stops short of the door. "oh, y/n expresses their apologies for already departing the harbor." with a small tut from chengsheng, she coils around him once more before laying her head on his shoulder.

"of coursse." if the snake could roll her eyes, she would've. "has anyone ever told you that you can be rather posssesssive, baizhu?"

"i'm afraid i don't know what you're talking about."

"i'm here! sorry for the wait!" you huff as you join up with the group of three millelith soliders. you were debreifing with the group leader while the others stood behind you away enough that you couldn't hear their gossip.

"doesn't that hair stick look familiar?" one asks.

"isn't it the one doctor baizhu wears?" the other answers.

"the bubu pharmacy owner?!"

"shh! they'll hear you idiot!" you don't. and you forget all about your hair until you set up camp for the night just outside the stone gate. taking your hair out for sleep is when you finally see what baizhu had pinned your hair up with and suddenly the night air felt a bit stuffy instead of chilly.

[viinchester]

Dexter :: Masterlist

Welcome to my Masterlist for all things I've created regarding the TV Show “Dexter”! I will try to keep this as updated as possible.

Click here for my Main Masterlist

━╍═══════════════╍━

× Contents ×

Last Updated On

Requests

🌶️ ☔ 💥 🧸 🕳️ 🎭 🔞

Writing Masterlist

Gifs Masterlist

Tag List

━╍═══════════════╍━

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

1. Last Updated On

September 23, 2024

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

2. Requests

Requests are OPEN for the following characters:

Dexter Morgan

Brian Moser/Rudy Cooper

You can try to request something for characters that aren't on this list as well, however it's much less likely that I'll actually write for them.

On how or what to request, please check out My Main Post About Requesting!

3. 🌶️ ☔ 💥 🧸 🕳️ 🎭 🔞

I use one or more of the 7 emojis to give you a better understanding of what the content involves. Here's a guide on what they mean:

🌶️ ➞ Smut, usually contains sexual content and/or physical intimacy

☔ ➞ Angst, usually contains emotional pain of some kind and/or evokes sadness/melancholy

💥 ➞ Action/Violence, usually contains fast-paced events and/or physical conflict, often with graphic descriptions

🧸 ➞ Fluff, usually contains feel-good situations with a focus on comfort and/or affection

🕳️ ➞ Dark Stuff, usually contains heavy, disturbing, and potentially triggering topics (Mental illness, (sexual) abuse, trauma, etc.)

🎭 ➞ Drama, usually contains intense emotional shifts and/or emotional turmoil, with moments of tension, conflict, and/or resolution

🔞 ➞ Mature Content, usually contains explicit content that is not suitable for minors (Graphic sexual scenes, extreme violence, mature themes, and/or other adult-oriented material)

‼️ These emojis are only to give you a quick overview, please still read the warnings on each story to make sure they're suitable for you ‼️

4. Writing Masterlist

Brian Moser/Rudy Cooper:

✒ Haunted Reflections

☔💥🔞(🕳️🎭)

Summary: You head to your routine appointment for a readjustment of your prosthetic leg at the Miami prosthetics clinic. This time, however, you are met with Rudy Cooper instead of your usual doctor. Unbeknownst to you, his dark secrets lie hidden beneath the surface, and you’ve unwittingly captured his undivided attention and care.

Warnings: References to Violence and Murder, mentions of Stalking, Trauma (related to losing a limb & violent incidents), Obsessive Thoughts, Unhealthy Behavior, graphic descriptions in thoughts of Gore (Violence, Bloodshed, a bit of Body Mutilation), Moral Ambiguity (we're talking about Brian Moser here, hello?), Insults (like a single word lol), mentions of Drugs (two sentences, nothing about taking them), mentions of Death

Word Count: 3.271

×

✒ Shape Of You

🌶️ 🕳️🔞(☔)

Summary: Brian takes care of your injury after you've taken a nasty fall, however you can't help but feel like something's off about the situation. Unaware of his dark thoughts and oblivious to the deeper manipulation at play, you clear your mind by focussing on his comforting presence, and things quickly get heated.

Warnings: Mentions of an injury and that it's being taken care of (nothing too graphic), Depictions of Sexual Content (Minors DNI!), Rough/Intense Sexual Content, could be considered Dubcon by coercion (not really imo, but just to be on the safe side), Themes of Possession and Objectification

Word Count: 3.271

⊸

Dexter Morgan:

✒ Nothing yet

5. Gifs Masterlist

⏯ Nothing yet

6. Tag List

I don't have a tag list yet. If you want to be tagged in the future for anything specifically (all writings for a specific character for example), feel free to let me know and I'll create one and put you on it!🙏🏼💞

[akutasoda]

you make everything special

synopsis - how are they with a s/o that has autism and gets overstimulated?

includes - dazai, yosano, ranpo, chuuya, akutagawa, poe, sigma, nikolai

warnings - gn!reader, reader has autism, fluff, slight crack, wc - 682

a/n: this was requested by @rattyrattyratty!

osamu dazai ★↷

↪he would be very good at helping you avoid anything that overstimulate you.

↪if it's sounds, he'll put his hands over your ears and take you away from the area, if its textures, he'll make sure they never enter the same room as you.

↪but if you did have a break down he'd feel rather helpless. it's no surprise to anyone that he isn't that good with feelings, so he isn't much help.

↪but he'll still try his hardest, even if he can't really help that much he still will try.

akiko yosano ★↷

↪the absolute best person for anything like this. as a doctor, she would be prepared with the best solutions to anything.

↪if anything makes you uncomfortable she would be there as quick as she can to help you and prevent you from reaching a break down.

↪so much so, that you'd rarely ever experience a break down. but if you did reach that point she would have all the best methods to help you.

ranpo edogawa ★↷

↪he may have knowledge of the subject and know ways to help you avoid certain sounds or things but he does have the best emotional intelligence.

↪so if you did get overstimulated he would feel pretty useless. he'd try to help with things he thought would help (things he'd do) but they probably would make it worse.

↪so he would most likely make up for not be able to help you then after you've calmed down. showering you in his undivided attention.

chuuya nakahara ★↷

↪ he'd be rather good at preventing you from getting overstimulated. he'd always have a way to help you out no matter where you were.

↪but if you did get overstimulated or have a break down, at first he would be rather helpless. he'd want to help but he feared that he could make it worse for you.

↪but after a while, he'd be just as good at helping you overcome overstimulation as he would be at preventing it.

ryūnosuke akutagawa ★↷

↪ it's very known that he doesn't do well with people especially their feelings. but when it comes to you, it'd be the only time he actually tried to understand someone else's feelings.

↪so he wouldn't really get at first why you became so overwhelmed at certain noises or such. he wasn't dumb and did know about it but he didn't quite understand enough.

↪he also wouldn't be that good if you had a break down or got overstimulated. he would try but he'd probably make it worse so you probably would have to help him understand.

edgar allan poe ★↷

↪ he'd be great at helping you avoid any noises or anything that would overstimulate you.

↪so he really did help you avoid having a break down or becoming overstimulated but if you did actually get to that point he would be rendered useless.

↪he would want to help you and he probably could, but he'd panic. he didn't want to make it any worse so he'd start panicking about what to do. but if he did help he'd probably be great about it.

sigma ★↷

↪ probably the least knowledgeable person on the subject. while he probably knew about it it wouldn't be an extensive amount of knowledge.

↪so if he noticed something was bothering you he'd start panicking. ultimately would be great at helping but he'd always stress about not being able to help properly.

↪ he'd be great at helping you in any situation as he'd always want to but he always initially panics. he worries he wouldn't be able to help but he always does.

nikolai gogol ★↷

↪it would be one of the only times he'd ever get completely serious. not really serious but would be so focused on helping you it would only seem that way.

↪he probably wouldn't be great at helping you avoid certain things that overwhelmed you because he isn't exactly the calmest person.

↪but he'd be excellent at helping you calm down and would always shower you in administration afterwards.

[firegirl888101]

Insatiable Madness (6)

|Sagau Yandere Fatui Harbingers x Reader|

And so they remain in this world for longer than what they planned.

Reader is Gender Neutral!

"What gave you the idea I can tell the future?" You scoffed.

"That doesn't matter! Tell me, do I become the strongest? Does Lord Capitano finally recognise my strength and duel me?" He answered.

"How am I supposed to know? The game isn't even finished, you psychopath!"

"It can't be that far away that even you don't know." He scoffed.

"It's not a question of how far in the future it is, it's whether I can actually answer it or not that matters!"

"Oh, so you do know but you just can't tell me because it would mess with the future! I see..." He muttered to himself.

That is not what I meant.

"Tartaglia leave the poor Decider alone. We've tormented them enough." Pulcinella scolded, prodding his walking stick at the ginger.

"But I need to know!--"

"-And you will learn what you want later, when The Tsaritsa has finished her plans with them." He scolded.

"Come on, boy, I thought I taught you better than this."

"Dottore what is taking so long!? I was promised we wouldn't stay here much longer." Sandrone raised her voice.

Why is that cosplayer so pissy? It's not like she can actually 'traverse back to Teyvat' like she says she can.

"I'm not sure, let me redo my calculations." He replied.

All Sandrone did was groan in response. "Fine! You do your calculations, I'm taking The Decider with me."

"Don't stray too far!" Columbina waved, giggling at The Doctor's increasing speed in shuffling his papers.

You felt her grab you by your restraints and drag you with her, she seemed to be heading behind the counter.

"Now that I have your undivided attention," She coughed into her hand. "Educate me about these beautiful machines this place has!"

"What."

"I have never seen machinery so big and so seemingly illustrious in my lifetime! You simply must report to me which genius created such pleasing creations."

Careful there Sandrone, out of context it sounds like you're describing something else...

"Well..." How were you supposed to explain them? You didn't know how they work, you've never worked a day in your life! You're just a college student with barely passable grades.

"I don't want any hesitancy. Speak now." She glared.

"Uh... This one! This one is used for frying things, the things being chips... They're more commonly known as fries though."

"Ah, I see... And I suppose the liquid in this 'basin' is oil?" She questioned, tracing her hand on the metal.

"It's not a basin, that would be in a bathroom... But yes, it is. I also advise that you don't touch it, it's most likely still hot. Not that I'd mind it burning you..."

"What did you say, you unrisable creature?" She spat, turning to you with a blank gaze.

"Nothing, Sandrone." You sighed. "Now that I answered your question, will you answer one of mine?"

"Of course not. It's also 'Lady Sandrone' to you." She smiled, turning back to the oil with a look of interest.

"So... how does one make and then 'fry' these 'chips' in this machine?"

"Would you like the basics or the very start of the process?" You sighed, you really didn't want to explain that you cut a potato and then clean and so on.

"The very start, just who do you take me for?"

Fantastic. You shouldn't really be picky in this type of situation though.

"You take a potato, clean it then cut it into strips..."

"Important! Thin or thick strips? What's the exact diameter? The length?"

"It depends what type of chips you want, as typical fast food chain's ones are thin like fries they're quite thin and short. Those who get long ones are said to be the luckiest." You explained to her, as she writes everything down on a piece of paper.

"And the diameter?"

"You don't need a specific size, as long as they're somewhat equal they're fine. They're going to be eaten anyway, I don't see why you're making such a big fuss."

She stayed quiet for a moment. "I want them to be perfect."

Nothing is perfect but if I said that she'd get even more pissed off.

"Next, you take your clean cut chips and put them in this basket. You then place the basket with chips in the oil and wait for a certain amount of time for them to cook."

"For how long?" She questioned. "I don't know? I've never personally used one before, I'm just saying what I've seen others do."

...and by 'seen what others do', you mean impatiently peering behind the front desk to see what the workers are up to.

"Useless, and here I thought you were becoming convenient for me." Sandrone scoffed.

"Well, the chips are supposed to be a golden colour so I think that's context enough..." You mumbled.

"And then what? Surely there is more."

"Not really, once they're cooked you put salt on them then eat. Some like to eat them straight away, but I like to add sauce sometimes."

"Excellent, I have written every word of your explanation down. As you provided the least minimal detail possible, you will show me a clear and explained demonstration." She scolded.

"I'm sorry, you want me to use one of these machines to help you with your notes?"

"Precisely." She nodded to herself.

"No." You answered shortly. "I have no idea how to operate one of these machines, what if I set fire to the building?"

That's a bit dramatic, but you don't want to embarrass yourself. Besides, a fire could count as arson and you weren't willing to potentially get yourself to prison with the rest of these lunatics.

"I suppose that is anxiety raising. Especially when I've been ordered to stay out of public eye..." She sighed to herself.

"What a dilemna this situation is. I'll have to take the machine apart and rebuild it once I return to my lab. You will aid me in my endeavour, won't you?" She glared.

She's good at staying in character. It's freaking me out.

"S-Sure..." You stuttered in fear.

"Excellent." She smiled at you once more.

Suddenly, lots of cars could be heard from outside the building. You could tell they were fast as the sounds left as soon as they came.

Oh, please tell me that's help!

"What was--"

"Marionette, bring The Decider now!" Dottore shouted from the other room. "We need to get out of here, they alerted their own soldiers!"

"You did what while under my merciful eye?" She turned to you.

"Sandrone, there's no time to be mad! Get your puppeteering arse over here right now!"

"Ugh."

She dragged you to the rest of the harbingers, who all gave you nasty glares.

"What did you do!?" Signora screamed in your face.

"I called the authorities to arrest you nutcases! You're all delusional and high in the fucking sky if you think you're the actual Fatui Harbingers from a fictional game!"

"Did it ever occur to you that you are currently being held hostage by multiple enemies of yours? You have courage to do such a thing while captured by us." Capitano praises.

"We have circled the entire building! Give the hostage and we will arrest peacefully!" An officer yelled from the front entrance.

Finally! I thought they'd never arrive.

"Dottore what do we do?" Arlecchino shouts at him. "Let's just kill them all again, it worked before didn't it?" Childe grinned.

"Not this time, Tartaglia. Even if we disposed of these soldiers, I am positive more would soon arrive." Capitano stated, unmoving unlike most harbingers.

"So you're saying even if we take care of them, we'll still be outnumbered."

"They're not soldiers, idiots. They're police officers who work for justice." You spat at them.

They all looked at you, silently telling you to shut up then turned back to eachother.

"Listen to me, as I'll only suggest this once." Signora thought outloud. "I'll freeze them with my cryo delusion, then we'll run to a safe place? As much as I'd hate to do that as I'm wearing heels, I believe it's our only option."

"I agree with Rosalyne," The old man coughed. "We need speed and tactiful thinking if we wish to leave this world."

"Signora, I've never known you to be so vague!" Childe laughed at her, looking at Pulcinella in hopes he'll laugh along with him.

"She's obviously talking about the park we entered this world in." Arlecchino scoffed at his behaviour.

"Then that is what we shall do." Pierro agreed.

Signora then pushed herself through the double doors calmly. You couldn't see what was happening due to Capitano covering your view, but you could hear screams and hysterical laughter.

"Please don't tell me she's killing them." You muttered, a look of repulsion present on your face.

"Did you even listen to her plan? She's not killing anyone." Sandrone rolled her eyes.

"I don't trust you, nor do I trust her."

"A wise decision on your part, but it doesn't aide your case of being kidnapped." Pierro answered for her.

"I'm aware of that, arsehole..." You whispered. "Pardon?" He glared.

"You know what? I've had enough of staying quiet. Fuck every single one of you! I hope that one day you breathe a vapes' cancerous flavour and your lungs dissolve at the second!"

"What's a vape?" Dottore turned to you.

"Okay, maybe I've been assuming too much, maybe you imported some illegal drugs from elsewhere? That's not the point though." You sighed.

"I feel better now that I got that out of my chest." You smiled to yourself, noticing Capitano giving you a blank stare through his mask in return.

"It certainly doesn't help you, but you do what you deem fit."

"Let's move!" Signora's voice could faintly be heard from outside, the harbingers one by one leaving the building through the doors.

"Apologies." Capitano coughed into his hand, picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder.

"Hey! I can walk myself, you tied my wrists together not my ankles!" You argued to him.

"Does it look like he wants you over your shoulder?" Scaramouche rolled his eyes, before realising something.

"Nevermind, you wouldn't be able to see." He laughed in your face, hitting your head which banged against Capitano's back.

"Dude! Careful, I don't want to be near his arse! Besides, I--"

You stopped yourself from talking when you managed to turn your head to the police officers outside. They looked in terrible condition, you thought Signora was being drugged up when she went on about her cryo delusion!

Seeing the police officers shout to each other as they struggle against the ice freezing them in place made you realise one very important thing.

These cosplayers... They're the real fucking deal.

How do we feel about some bonding time with Sandrone? :>

I don't want the reader to be too quiet about their situation, but I just wanted to make it clear that they're afraid since they're aware of the current situation they're in. I'm not exactly sure how I'm going to write this but I suppose thats what practice is for...

Please don't expect too many happy, nice and generally fluffy scenes.

This is Yandere, a genre which should never, under any circumstance be considered normal. It's abusive, unhealthy and leads to a lot of victims facing awful conditions which they never should or ever have to endure no matter who they are.

This is fiction that I'm writing, meaning it's all taken light-heartedly IN A FICTIONAL SENSE.

If anyone, by chance, is currently in conditions where a loved-one or yourself has suddenly become distant and/or being hurt when away from eyes please get help. Talk to them, or if it's you, talk to someone you know you can trust.

If you can't talk to anyone, find authorities who can help you. Call 999, as it is in the U.K, or your local emergency service. They will always help you, and will never deny your rights or freedom.

Thanks for reading this, I hope all who's reading knows this information already, but I thought I'd include it since who knows when it comes to where you are in the world and whether your education programs taught critical information like this.

✨Elusive✨ Taglist!:

@valeriele3 @pale-value @pix-stuff @yumi-genshin-writer @yuii-v @itz-luna @annoying-mary @etherisy @khalhaimdad @haikyuusboringassmanager @magica-ren @sweatyexpertdeputyduck @booksandteaplusart @9140 @whatamidoing89 @raesleepyhead @nasidibakar @shikanosn @purpleamethystsblog @chihawari @esthelily @stuffyfrenchflowers @conspicuous-mayonnaise @sielt @katsumikumo @greyhoundwires707 @carminerin @raidendeeznuts123 @angelofdarkness2

Quick Reminder Here! If you no longer want to be on the taglist that's completely fine; I take no offence whatsoever so please don't hesitate to tell me. ^^

[undiscovered-horizon]

Eleventh Doctor x insecure/ anxious reader?

🫀REQUESTS ARE OPEN🫀 || Doctor Who-inspired playlist

"Cold feet" - 11th Doctor x Reader

SUMMARY: Funnily enough, after facing death and vicious aliens, it's small talk with strangers that gives you cold feet. Fortunately enough, you found yourself in the company of an expert on running away.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 1.9k

A/N: As an anxious person I cannot be thankful enough for people in my life who casually roll with my anxiety and don't try to "fix" it with cheap advice

"Time Lord to human! Are you listening to me?"

The sudden yelling shook you awake. Only then did you realize you zoned out in the first place, letting Doctor's rushed words brush right by you. You looked at him only to see pure annoyance seeping from his expression. Although you never meant to hurt him, the guilt still gnawed at you.

"Sorry, missed the last bit," you explained yourself as you awkwardly rubbed the back of your neck. "What were you saying?"

Instead of repeating his scientific ramblings which definitely would have been a little too fast and complex for you to understand, he shifted his posture to rest his hands on his hips. You felt as if he had caught you red-handed doing something he had absolutely prohibited you from doing.

"Oi, what's going on with you? It's like you've lost your head."

You absentmindedly shook your head to dismiss his worry. "Yeah, sorry, it's no-"

"Are you in love?"

For a moment you couldn't get any sound to leave your mouth. "What?" It was a bizarre conclusion to jump to. You couldn't tell what on Earth could even get him that idea. "No, it's on-"

"Good for you!" he said as he clapped his hands. "Now, moving on. Focus, eyes on me."

"Look, it's just that I've got a..." you suspended your voice thinking of the right word to use. The Doctor stared at you with wide eyes, clearly awaiting the second part of the sentence. "Thing."

"A thing?" he repeated in confusion. It seemed as if with each of your words he only grew more offended at your misplaced attention.

"Yes, a thing." Out of all the words you could have used, your choice seemed to have fallen on the worst and least exhaustive one. "My friend, Ada, is throwing a party for some of her college friends but apart from me everyone invited is from her course, so she's going to be the only person I know there."

"And that's what you've been thinking about while I was explaining my clever, clever plan?"

The Doctor stared at you with closely knit eyebrows. In some way, he couldn't fathom how a party invitation could be in any way more interesting than him showing off his extraordinary intellect and creativity. Choosing between a college party and aliens should have been a lot easier than it truly was.

"It's not as simple as it sounds, you know?"

"Alright, then tell me." By his hand-flapping and surprisingly undivided attention, you couldn't tell whether he was growing more upset or actually wanted to hear about what was troubling you.

"Honestly, I don't want to go but it's important for Ada. Also, I haven't seen her in ages. On the other hand..." your voice drifted away. Now that you've started this little heart-to-heart, it was pointless to lie to the Doctor - if successful, fooling him wouldn't gain anything anyway. "It's a party full of strangers."

For a moment he stared at you in silence, visibly expecting you to elaborate but truthfully, there wasn't anything more to say. The hypothetical group of strangers, as faceless as they were, was already stressful enough, even without giving them imaginary traits or habits.

"Strangers, right," he said as he clasped his hands. The sound echoed throughout the console room. He looked away for a moment, basking in enlightenment, before looking back at you. "How exactly is that a problem?" he dwelled on the subject. It seemed as if the discomfort of a company of strangers was hardly conceivable.

"You wouldn't get it." You vaguely waved your hand at him in a dismissive manner. Maybe it was unfair towards him but you really couldn't imagine a scenario in which he doesn't throw in a sarcastic comment about your anxiety. "I mean, how could you? Socializing has never been a problem for you."

"How could it be? People, party, cake, dancing. I love dancing! Great times, nothing to be scared of."

"Yes, there is: small talk and thirty people I've never met. And that's only the beginning."

Even the mere mention of that situation made a cold shiver run down your spine. A flutter of anxiety in your chest brought an unpleasant, suffocating sensation. Unconsciously, your face contorted in a grimace.

"You just go up to them and talk, what's hard about that?"

"Everything!" you exclaimed as you made a broad movement with your hands. "It's just... I can't do that. I physically can't make myself go up to a stranger and ask how they're doing, I'd rather hit my head against a wall. I know the theory, the 'walking through a house' metaphor, it's just... I can't force my body to do that. And when I do find myself talking to a stranger, I want it to end immediately. And the silence! Oh God, the silence... Like when you ask them a question, they answer and then the silence. The awkward silence of my anxiety, lack of social skills and being a generally uninteresting person. Just a bit of quiet and everyone knows I'm weird, awkward and-"

"Hey, hey, stop it!" he scolded you in a whiny voice as if you were a child. "Don't say that. You're not awkward or weird, you're brilliant!"

"Thanks, that's nice of you but unfortunately, I am self-aware."

He may have known you for weeks but you've known yourself for decades.

"No, really." He refused to let go. If the Doctor was going to spout cliche pick-me-ups, he appeared exceptionally committed to the meaningless act. "You crossed the universe as it is wide and long. Fought aliens and risked your life because a toddler couldn't sleep at night. Blimey, you told a Sontaran with a bomb bigger than your head to piss off. And it's house party small talk that gives you cold feet?"

Contrary to his presumption, the context didn't give you any comfort or motivation - it only made you feel worse. If you really were as brave as he made it seem, why couldn't you just start a conversation with your friend's guests? By the measure of saving the universe multiple times, you should be more than capable to do so.

"I know it sounds ridiculous and I agree it's stupid but it's not the same. When we're saving worlds it's a mission, a puzzle to solve." You paused for a moment but by your expression, the Doctor could tell there was something else on your mind. "And I've got you," you added.

"Me?" he asked sheepishly. The Doctor vaguely pointed his finger at himself. "What does that have to do with me?"

"You make me a little braver. I mean, you don't look scared even when you are, so it gives me a little push. I feel a little less anxious when I know that you've got my back."

"So what do you do when I'm not there?"

"Bail," you answered with a shrug. Were you really the same person who criticized the fashion choices of an alien with more guns than limbs? "I rarely go but when I do, I just run off around midnight like Cinderella." You made a small pause when you lowered your gaze, avoiding the Doctor's face. "Honestly, it always makes me feel ashamed like I'm making myself miss out on something but it's either that or panicking in the bathroom."

A silence fell between you. The Doctor's typical hand flapping came to a strange halt as he continued to stare at you with an inexplicable expression. He would have agreed on your resemblance to Cinderella, your regent-esque charm and princess-like beauty but there seemed to be a matter more important at hand:

"Has that ever happened?"

His voice was surprisingly quiet, hesitant even as if he didn't want to actually know the answer. Maybe he wasn't sure he was ready for the responsibility the knowledge would bring. The Doctor's words were barely audible over the whirring and wheezing of the TARDIS's engineering.

"Which part?"

"Panicking in the bathroom."

"Yeah," you said quietly. Your gaze fell to the floor. Looking for some kind of comfort, you slowly rubbed your arm. "It was New Year at my friend's, didn't know anyone there except for him. At some point, I just needed to take a break from being around so many people. I sat in the bathroom wearing a silver sequin ballgown and fought back tears. Funny, I probably looked equally pathetic and great. The only thing I could think about was how rubbish I was at just hanging out with people and, you know, being a normal teen at a normal teen party filled with normal teens. I just..." you stopped yourself at the last moment possible. A heavy, defeated sigh left your lips before you continued in a voice barely above a whisper. "I just wish I was a little less anxious."

"You never said anything."

"Why would I? It's not something I'm exactly proud of." You let out a bitter chuckle as you answered him.

Suddenly you found yourself engulfed in a tight hug. The Doctor's arms were tightly wrapped around you, his slow but ragged breath brushing against your neck. Surprised at the unforeseen affection, you hesitantly reciprocated the embrace. The tweed of his jacket was slightly coarse, some strings were coming out of the seams. He always smelled like burnt wires and a second-hand bookshop. At first, that distinct fragrance wasn't exactly pleasant to you but with time it became a beacon of hope, comfort, adventure and a good laugh.

"Oh, you brilliant, clever you," he quietly said in a sad voice.

Then he stepped away from you just as swiftly and surprisingly as he hugged you in the first place. The first thing you noticed was the change in his facial expression: the Doctor was no longer annoyed or concerned but excited as if he had just come up with a perfect solution to some mind-boggling problem.

"Well then, good thing you're not going alone this time."

"I'm... not?"

"Yes! A plus-one. It's still a thing, right? I'm your plus-one."

"That's sweet of you but you really don't have to. I'm fine on my own," you assured him, although he had no reason to believe you after what you'd already told him.

"Change of plans, sweetheart!" he exclaimed as he pulled one of the many levers. The TARDIS was about to take flight and it was a little too late for arguments and second thoughts. "We're going together and when people become a little too much we attend to an emergency," he said while running between different parts of the flight console. As if he was dancing, he made a whole circle around the control switchboard and stood in front of you once again. The Doctor stuck his index finger in your face as if reprimanding you once more. "No panicking in the bathrooms."

"Wait, what emergency?" you asked as he was already taking directions to your hometown.

"You know, this very real emergency that can't wait and we have to take care of it at the very moment. The crisis that I definitely did not invent just now."

"Right..." you drew out your answer as you caught on to his ruse. A smile crept unto your face. "Time travellers, defenders of the universe. You can never know when you're needed. Any suspicions as to what the emergency is?"

"Laskos' fourth moon. There's that small waffle bar that might need an inspection."

[acerathia]

cw: cucking, implied kidnapping, f!reader

All Dottore ever does is watch.

If you're being honest, you don't quite remember how you got to this place. A place filled with darkness and luring stares, a place where every move of yours is taken apart, scrutinized and analyzed. Thus, your body does not belong to you, your actions do not belong to you, and sometimes you even doubt your own thoughts truly belong to you only.

All you ever could do is listen to your Doctor, following his instructions, melting underneath his touch, as rare and impossible it might be. Its rarity comes from the fact that the Doctor simply enjoys watching more. He's always there when someone else touches you, interacts with you. His gaze searing a path on your skin.

He's always watching. He's watching as you writhe and moan underneath the touch and strokes of another, noting every single twitch of your muscles, your reactions as the person looming above you presses their digits against your throbbing clit, as they slowly push one, two fingers into you, agonizing touch on your clenching muscles.

And you take it, shivering, whimpering, all while holding eye contact with the Doctor. You don’t know how he manages to analyze your every reaction, catching the way your skin shivers when they bite and lick at your chest while keeping his gaze connected to you. But to you, it doesn't matter, as you have realized that you could never come undone if the Doctor wasn't digging through your brain with one glance. The intensity in his gaze reaches into you, burning you up until you are nothing but ashes. Yet, he never throws you away. Rather, he waits until you reignite, over and over again, just for him.

Sometimes, you can’t help but imagine how his touch would feel against you, the way he would graze your insides, grabbing your nerves and pushing and pulling, playing with you using his deep knowledge of your body and mind. You imagine the teeth grazing your neck were the points of his, a grin pressed deep into your pulse. You imagine his hands roaming over you instead of writing down notes, the cold leather finding your soft spots with uttermost ease.

But that's all you were going to get, his attention, undivided and heated, and your imagination. Never him, never his touch, never his pleasure.

[xkaidaxxxx]

Pt2 for Zuko x Chubby reader?

Zuko x chubby reader pt.2

Mentions: body shaming, foul language, angst, aggression, lying, fluff

Simple! :) sorry for the errors.

"One day there will be an amazing man who will fall in love with you. He'll love everything about you." Katara said. You smiled and hugged her. "Awe" Aang and Sokka said in unison. You are very fortunate to have wonderful supportive friends. Katara's words came true. Years later. When you dumped Zuko that was the day Zuko and Mai decided to leave. You missed him more than anything. Once the war was over you went back to your parents. People still judged them for taking a water bender into their family.

"Well I'm off mama," you said. You turned to the door and your father was blocking it. "Dad please don't start." he smiled rolling his eyes as he added a blade into your bag. "Just in case y/n. Now run along," he said moving away. Your dad is very protective.

You didn't want to be late for your business. Since you learned how to heal with water bending back in the war you finally found it useful in the fire nation. You saw soldiers at your place. "Excuse me soldiers...is there a problem?" you asked and crossed your arms. They turned to face you. Zuko was right at your door waiting. He thinks he can show up because he's the Fire Lord. You gladly ignored him. Opening up and walking inside. His eyes widened as the door slammed in his face. A little boy giggled. "Your girlfriend is mad at you?" he then gasped realizing Zuko was the fire lord, bowed, and ran off. He walked inside waving off the soldiers. "I'm here to see Y/n." He spoke looking around. You're a doctor. "Zuko get the hell out of here. You can seek help elsewhere." he frowned. After you went separate ways he never forgot about what you did for him. How many sacrifices have you committed? You left your family..your home...You always put him first. " My heart is aching Y/n...ever since the day we went our separate ways. I never lost thought of you. My mind kept replaying how many times you showed me all your love and support. You're the one. It took me a while to know that." he confessed. "Zuko...you're losing your mind. You obviously need to see a therapist." you continued looking at your list of incoming patients. He held your hand, gripping it lightly. He now has your undivided attention. " Y/n I'm in love with you. I need you in my life. I know you still have feelings for me." he said hoping you'd kiss him or hug him. "I don't have feelings for you Zuko. I'm flattered by your confession." you pulled away and started organizing your files. " Then why do you still have the ring I gave you on our 2nd date..and the necklace too." he called you out on it. He's willing to make it up to you even if it takes long. He frowned as you placed the necklace and ring in his hand. "Here I should've given them to you that day," you said with a shakey voice. You did still love him. More than anything. "I love you y/n. why...why did I have to break something I love too much?" those words made you cry. "you..love me Zuko?" he looked up in hope you'd let him back into your life. He nodded. "I..I love you too. Always had. Now give me those back!" you yelled snatching the ring and necklace. He blushed as you put them back on. " I want to meet your parents." you smacked his arm. "way too soon. We need to take things slowly ya know.." your first patient walked in with her lovely daughter. "Hi little one are you ready for your treatment today," you asked as you carried her. Zuko was already thinking about how many kids you'd be willing to have.

Taking things slowly was revoked. Within a month he met your parents and 5 months later you're married and living in the palace. "so..how many kids are you willing to have with me?" he asked as he undressed you for a bath. " When the time is right I'll know," you replied. You already knew the answer to that. 4.Eventually, you had a little boy. He has his Daddy's black hair and his Mommy's pretty dark brown eyes. "Daddy this hard," Akio complained and started crying. "Akio momma said no fire bending yet. wait...where did you get this scroll?" Akio pointed a the wall. Where a portrait of Iroh was placed. "Uncle is yours," Akio said. Zuko carried Akio and sighed. " yes now let us go to momma. She's waiting for us to head into town." Akio giggled excited to attend the festival. Before leaving Zuko looked at the portrait and smiled.

Once you all got to the festival you met up with your friends. " Oh, he's so adorable." Katara said holding out her arms to carry him."Akio this is my best friend Katara." you said. He hid his face in your neck. Sokka chuckled. "Ha, he doesn't like you." Katara smacked him. "Shut up." "Not in front of my son." Zuko scolded her. Katara dedicated herself to getting Akio to call her auntie. Sokka bought a small teddy bear just the right size for Akio. He was too shy to grab it at first from Sokka. "It's yours bud," you said and he grabbed it. "What do we say?" Zuko spoke to him. "Thank yous." Akio said. "Hey, kid. You look a lot like your dad. I'm Aang." "This kid is my son Akio,"Zuko said. He's grateful to Aang but boy can he be so annoying. "Right Akio. Hey!" that sudden loudness made Akio cry. "Dada" "Sshh shh it's okay come here." Zuko took him from you. He's such a daddy boy. All your friends were shocked. A kid does change people. Zuko was more open-minded and a little carefree. He's a good dad and husband. "let's go get sweets not tell momma okay." he whispered to Akio. You knew what he told him because he quickly stopped crying. Sweets. It's Akio's weakness. " we'll be back baby love you." They left. "He looks like such a good dad," Aang commented. Sokka and Katara agreed. "Yes, he is and will be again. I plan on telling him tonight. Although I think he already knows.," you replied.