#he is dedicated to his drip. i can respect that

[collieii]

it's crazy how little vash has to do to become completely unrecognizable (eriks) yet each day he chooses to go out in the most conspicuous fit imaginable...beginning think he likes being hunted for sport

[021894s]

SIMS ANATOMY - JAKE SIM

SYNOPSIS: you, a top cardiac surgeon, find yourself increasingly frustrated by the distraction over the hospital’s new head of neurosurgery, Dr. Jake Sim. Despite your initial annoyance, you can't help but notice Jake's charm and undeniable skills. As you keep running into each other, Jake’s persistent yet respectful flirtations begin to break through your professional exterior.

PAIRING: neurosurgeon! jake x cardio surgeon! reader

GENRE: workplace romance, situationship

WARNINGS: explicit smut, unprotected sex (don’t), oral (m and f receiving), angst, language, MDNI!!

wc: 12k

You step out of the OR, still riding the adrenaline high from the successful triple bypass surgery you just completed. The intricate dance of sutures and clamps still echoes in your mind as you head towards the nurses' station to update your patient's chart. You’ve always prided yourself on your precision and dedication, and today was no exception.

As you settle into the chair, logging into the system, you can't help but overhear snippets of conversation from the nearby nurses. Their voices are hushed but excited, and despite yourself, your ears prick up at the mention of a new doctor.

"Oh my god, have you seen Dr. Sim yet?" one nurse gushes, her voice practically dripping with admiration. "He's the new head of neuro. I can't believe he's not married with kids."

"Seriously, he's so handsome," another chimes in. "I thought doctors like him only existed in movies."

You roll your eyes internally, feeling a twinge of annoyance. These nurses should be focusing on their patients, not swooning over some new doctor. You know the type—charming, overconfident, used to turning heads wherever he goes. You’ve seen it a hundred times. It’s frustrating to think that professional women, who you’ve seen handle the toughest of medical crises with unflinching composure, could be so easily distracted by a pretty face.

"He smiled at me in the break room," another voice adds, dreamy and far away. "I nearly melted."

You resist the urge to scoff out loud. Instead, you channel your irritation into the chart in front of you, updating the post-op notes with meticulous detail. Your patient, Mr. Harrison, came through the surgery well, and you want to ensure there are no loose ends in his care plan. His vitals are stable, and the grafts look good. You make a note to check on him in an hour.

The chatter continues unabated. "I heard he’s a genius in the OR," someone says. "Apparently, he’s revolutionized some new technique in neurosurgery."

"Brains and looks? Not fair," another nurse quips, and they all dissolve into giggles.

You finish charting, your irritation only growing. It’s not that you begrudge the nurses their moment of levity—being a nurse is hard, often thankless work, and they deserve a bit of fun. But the object of their admiration rubs you the wrong way. You’ve had to work twice as hard to be taken seriously in a male-dominated field, and the idea of a doctor coasting on his looks and charm irks you.

Shaking your head slightly, you stand up and grab the chart. There’s still a lot to do, and you don’t have time to dwell on some pretty boy neurosurgeon. If he’s really as good as they say, you’ll see for yourself soon enough. And if not, well, you’ve never had a problem putting overconfident doctors in their place.

As you walk away from the nurses' station, you hear one last wistful sigh. "I can't wait to see him in action."

Neither can you, you think, but for entirely different reasons.

You step out of the OR, mind still buzzing with the details of the successful valve replacement surgery you just completed. you head to the cardiac unit to check on post-op patients, but something feels off. The usually bustling ward is eerily quiet, with only one nurse, Olivia, stationed at the desk.

“Olivia,” you calls out, her voice cutting through the silence. “Where is everyone?”

Olivia looks up, a hint of guilt flashing in her eyes. “They’re at lunch,” she replies a little too quickly, her tone unconvincing.

you narrows her eyes, knowing Olivia well enough to sense when she’s not telling the full truth. “Olivia...” you say in a stern voice, crossing your arms.

Olivia shifts uncomfortably under your gaze. “Okay, fine,” she sighs, her shoulders slumping. “They’re in OR 2’s gallery.”

Confusion flickers across your face. “Why would they be in the gallery?” you ask, your irritation growing.

“Dr. Sim is clipping an aneurysm,” Olivia admits, unable to meet your eyes.

That’s all you need to know, storming off towards the gallery, your footsteps echoing through the hallways. The idea of your nurses neglecting their duties to watch a surgery infuriates your. Jake’s presence in the hospital had already been a source of frustration, and now he was serving as a distraction for your team.

Reaching the gallery, you push open the door and stride in, your eyes scanning the crowd of nurses huddled around the glass, their attention glued to the procedure below. you spot Jake in the OR, skillfully clipping the aneurysm, his focus unwavering.

“What is going on here?” you demand, voice slicing through the murmurs. The nurses jump, turning to face you with wide eyes. “Why are you all here instead of attending to your patients?”

One of the nurses, Carla, steps forward, stammering. “We... we just wanted to see Dr. Sim’s technique. It’s supposed to be groundbreaking.”

your glare is icy. “I don’t care how groundbreaking it is. Your patients come first. Get back to your stations, now.”

The nurses scurry out, their heads bowed in embarrassment. you watch them go, your anger simmering. Jake’s impressive skills might have captivated your team, but to you, he was nothing more than a distraction. you couldn’t afford to have the nurses slacking off, not when lives depended on their diligence.

you turn back to the OR, eyes locking onto Jake. For a brief moment, your gazes meet through the glass, and you see a flicker of something in his eyes—curiosity, perhaps? Or was it amusement? Shaking off the thought, you storm out of the gallery, determined to keep your team on track and your own frustrations with Jake in check.

You catch sight of Jake coming out of the OR, his surgical cap still on and his scrubs marked with the evidence of a long, intense procedure. He’s engrossed in conversation with another surgeon, but as you approach, he looks up and meets your gaze.

“You must be Dr. Sim,” you say, your voice firm.

Jake smiles, wiping his hands with a towel. “Dr. Y/L/N, I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“I could say the same about you,” you reply, not missing a beat. “Seeing as you’re the reason my nurses are disappearing during their shifts to watch this so-called groundbreaking technique of yours.”

His smile falters slightly, and he raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t realize my surgeries were causing any issues. I’m sorry if they’ve been a distraction.”

“They have,” you state bluntly, crossing your arms. “My team’s focus should be on their patients, not on observing other procedures or a certain brain surgeon, no matter how impressive they might be.”

Jake’s lips curl into a playful grin. “Oh, so you think I’m impressive?”

You feel a flush of annoyance, typical behavior for a neurosurgeon, always so full of themselves. “I didn’t say that.”

“But you implied it,” he teases, taking a step closer. “I’ll take it as a compliment.”

You narrow your eyes, trying to maintain your stern demeanor. “My team doesn’t have time for distractions, Dr. Sim.”

“Fair enough,” he replies, his tone still light but his expression more serious. “I understand, and I’ll make sure to address it with the staff. I didn’t mean to disrupt the unit.”

You study him for a moment, gauging his sincerity. Despite your irritation, there’s something about his demeanor that disarms you slightly. You can’t help but notice his deep brown eyes, plump lips, and the way his Australian accent is way more attractive than it should be. You understand, in that moment, why the nurses might be so captivated.

“Good,” you say, your tone softening just a touch. “I appreciate that.”

Jake smiles again, this time a bit more warmly. “And if it’s any consolation, your reputation as a top cardiac surgeon is well-deserved. I look forward to working alongside you.”

“Likewise,” you reply, giving him a curt nod before turning to leave. As you walk away, you can’t shake the mixture of irritation and intrigue. Jake Sim might be causing headaches for your unit, but there’s no denying his skill and charm. You just hope he proves to be more than just a distraction.

A few days later, you find yourself in the hospital’s busy hallway, reviewing patient charts on your tablet. The hum of activity around you is a comforting backdrop until a familiar voice interrupts your focus.

“Dr. Y/L/N,” Jake calls out, his voice carrying that unmistakable Australian lilt. “Fancy seeing you here.”

You look up, and there he is, leaning casually against the wall, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Dr. Sim,” you acknowledge with a nod, trying to keep your tone neutral. “What can I do for you?”

“Just thought I’d say hello,” he replies, pushing off the wall and sauntering over to you. “And maybe ask how you’re doing.”

“I’m fine, thank you,” you respond, keeping your eyes on your tablet.

“Busy as usual, I see,” he notes, glancing at the screen. “You ever take a break?”

“Breaks are for people who don’t have critical patients to tend to,” you reply, not looking up.

He chuckles, the sound warm and annoyingly pleasant. “You know, there’s more to life than work. Maybe you need someone to remind you of that.”

You finally look up, raising an eyebrow. “And I suppose you think you’re that someone?”

“Could be,” he says with a confident grin. “I mean, who better to show you the lighter side of things?”

You roll your eyes, but a small smile tugs at your lips. “You’re quite sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

“Confidence is a necessity in our line of work,” he says, his eyes locking onto yours. “But I’ve heard it helps in other areas too.”

“Oh really? Like what?” you ask, despite yourself.

He leans in a little closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “Like convincing brilliant surgeons to step out of their comfort zones once in a while.”

You scoff lightly, shaking your head. “I don’t need convincing, Dr. Sim. I have my priorities straight.”

“Of course you do,” he replies smoothly. “But even the best of us need a break sometimes. Don’t worry, I’m not asking you out. Just offering a bit of friendly advice.”

You look at him, trying to figure out if he’s serious. “Friendly advice, huh?”

“Absolutely,” he says with a wink. “Think of it as a, professional courtesy.”

You can’t help but laugh, despite your best efforts to stay stern. “You’re something else, you know that?”

“I get that a lot,” he says, flashing that infuriatingly charming smile. “Anyway, I’ll let you get back to saving lives. But if you ever need a reminder of what fun looks like, you know where to find me.”

later that day, the hospital corridors are quieter than usual as you make your way to the elevators, finally heading home after a long shift. The soft hum of the building is almost soothing after the constant noise of the OR. You press the button and wait, your mind already shifting to thoughts of a hot shower and some much-needed sleep.

The elevator dings, and as the doors slide open, you see Jake standing inside, leaning against the back wall, his expression relaxed but alert. He looks up and his face lights up with a familiar, playful smile.

“Dr. Y/L/N,” he greets, stepping aside to make room for you. “Heading home too?”

“Dr. Sim,” you reply, stepping in and pressing the button for the ground floor. “Looks like it.”

The doors close, and the elevator begins its descent. The enclosed space suddenly feels a bit smaller with the two of you in it.

“Long day?” he asks, glancing over at you.

“You could say that,” you respond, leaning back against the wall. “You?”

“Same here,” he says, a hint of fatigue creeping into his voice. “But it’s all part of the job, right?”

You nod, a brief silence settling between you. It’s not uncomfortable, but there’s an unspoken tension, a mix of mutual respect and something else you can’t quite put your finger on.

“So,” Jake breaks the silence, a teasing note in his voice. “Any plans for the evening? Or are you one of those surgeons who lives and breathes work even at home?”

You raise an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at your lips. “And what about you? Do you have a life outside the hospital, Dr. Sim?”

He laughs softly, the sound warm and genuine. “I try to, when I’m not dealing with brain surgery. But I’ll admit, it’s a challenge. The job can be all-consuming.”

“Tell me about it,” you agree, your tone more relaxed now. “Sometimes it feels like there’s no room for anything else.”

“Maybe that’s why it’s important to find some balance,” he says, his voice sincere. “Even if it’s just little moments here and there.”

You look at him, considering his words. There’s more to Jake than the cocky, flirtatious persona he often projects. “I suppose you’re right.”

The elevator dings again, signaling your arrival at the ground floor. As the doors open, you both step out into the lobby, the cool night air from outside brushing against your skin.

“Need a ride?” Jake offers, his tone casual but there’s a glint of genuine concern in his eyes. “It’s pretty late.”

“I’m good, thanks,” you reply, appreciating the offer but not ready to blur those professional lines just yet. “But I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Count on it,” he says with a wink. “Have a good night, Dr. Y/L/N.”

“You too, Dr. Sim,” you respond, turning to head towards your car.

As you walk away, you can’t help but feel a strange mix of irritation and curiosity. Jake Sim might be a distraction, but there’s no denying that he’s also starting to become a presence you can’t quite ignore. And maybe, just maybe, that’s not entirely a bad thing.

The next day, you find yourself scrubbing in for a complex procedure. Today’s case is a particularly challenging one: a patient with both a severe cardiac condition and a cerebral aneurysm, requiring the combined expertise of both cardiac and neuro specialists. As you meticulously scrub your hands and arms, you hear the familiar voice of Jake Sim beside you.

“Looks like we’re working together today,” he says, his tone a mix of professionalism and that signature playful edge.

You glance over, meeting his eyes. “Seems like it. Ready for this?”

“Always,” he replies, his confident smile never wavering. “I’ve been looking forward to this case. It’s not every day we get to tackle something this intricate together.”

You nod, appreciating his enthusiasm despite your initial reservations about him. “Agreed. The patient’s condition is precarious. We need to be perfectly in sync.”

Jake gives you a serious nod, his demeanor shifting. “Absolutely. Let’s make sure we give them the best outcome possible.”

You both finish scrubbing in and enter the OR, where the patient is already prepped and waiting. The atmosphere is charged with a mix of tension and anticipation, the surgical team moving with practiced precision. As you take your place on one side of the patient, Jake positions himself on the other, eyes meeting over the sterile field.

“Ready to start?” you ask, your voice steady and focused.

“Ready,” Jake confirms, his expression equally determined.

The surgery begins, and the OR fills with the rhythmic beeping of monitors and the soft hum of machinery. You work methodically, your hands moving with practiced precision as you navigate the complex landscape of the patient’s heart. Jake mirrors your concentration, his focus unbroken as he tackles the aneurysm with equal skill.

“Forceps,” you request, your voice calm and controlled.

“Here,” the scrub nurse says, passing the instrument with a fluid motion. “How’s the heart looking?” jake asks

“Stable,” you reply, glancing up briefly to meet his eyes. “How about the aneurysm?”

“It’s going well,” he answers, his tone steady. “We’re almost there.”

As the surgery progresses, you find yourselves falling into a natural rhythm, your movements synchronized in a way that surprises you. There’s a subtle, unspoken understanding between you, each anticipating the other’s needs and adjustments.

“Nice work on that bypass,” Jake comments, his tone genuinely appreciative.

“Thanks,” you reply, a small smile forming behind your mask. “Your precision with the aneurysm is impressive.”

“Coming from you, that means a lot,” he says, and you can hear the sincerity in his voice.

Hours pass, but the intensity of your focus never wanes. Finally, as the last suture is placed and the patient’s vitals stabilize, you both step back, a sense of accomplishment settling over you.

“Great job, everyone,” you say to the team, who respond with nods and murmurs of agreement.

Jake meets your eyes, his expression one of respect and something more. “We make a good team, Dr. Y/L/N.”

You nod, feeling a surprising sense of camaraderie. “We do, Dr. Sim. Let’s hope the patient has a smooth recovery.”

As you step out of the OR and begin the process of de-scrubbing, you can’t help but reflect on the day’s events. Working alongside Jake, seeing his skill and dedication firsthand, has shifted your perspective. He’s still cocky, still flirty, but there’s depth and talent beneath that exterior.

“Drinks tonight to celebrate?” Jake asks, a teasing glint in his eye as you both head towards the locker rooms.

You laugh, shaking your head. “Maybe another time, Dr. Sim. But good work today.”

“Thanks, Y/N,” he says, dropping the formalities for a moment. “Seriously, it was an honor working with you.”

“The feeling’s mutual,” you admit, giving him a genuine smile before heading off to change.

The next few weeks bring more opportunities for you and Jake to work together, and each collaboration reveals another layer of his skill and personality. Despite his initial cockiness, Jake proves to be a dedicated and talented surgeon, and you begin to see him in a new light. The more time you spend together in the OR, the more you find yourself appreciating his expertise and even enjoying his company.

One evening, you find yourself finishing up some paperwork in the quiet cardiac unit. The day had been long, but fulfilling, with several successful surgeries under your belt. As you look up from your desk, you see Jake approaching, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Hey," he says, leaning against the doorframe. "You still here?"

"Just wrapping up," you reply, setting aside your pen. "What about you?"

"Same," he says, stepping into your office. "I was going to head out, but I thought I'd check in on you first."

"Checking in on me, huh?" you say with a hint of amusement. "What for?"

"Well, I was thinking," he starts, a bit more serious than usual. "We've been working together a lot lately, and I wanted to say thank you. For trusting me in the OR and for being an amazing colleague."

You feel a warm glow at his words, appreciating the sincerity behind them. "Thank you, Jake. You've been a great partner in the OR. I couldn't have asked for a better neurosurgeon to collaborate with."

Jake smiles, the familiar twinkle returning to his eyes. "You know, I think we make a pretty good team."

"I think so too," you admit, a small smile playing on your lips. "It's been nice, working with you."

"Nice, huh?" he teases, his playful side emerging once more. "I'll take that as a high compliment coming from you."

You laugh softly, shaking your head. "Don't let it go to your head, Sim."

He chuckles, but his expression soon turns more contemplative. "You know, I've been thinking about what I said the other day. About balance and taking breaks. It's something I'm not great at either."

"a little hypocritical to be giving me advice then no?," you reply, your tone light but teasing. "It's hard to switch off when our work is so demanding."

"Exactly," he agrees. "But I've realized that maybe we could help each other with that. Maybe we could find a way to balance things out a bit more."

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. "And how do you propose we do that?"

"How about we start with something simple?" he suggests. "Like taking a real break. Maybe grab a coffee together, no work talk allowed. Just two colleagues, taking a breather."

You consider his offer, the idea surprisingly appealing. "Alright, Dr. Sim. Coffee sounds good."

Jake's smile widens, a genuine warmth in his eyes. "Great. Tomorrow morning, then? Before our rounds?"

"Tomorrow morning," you agree, feeling a flutter of anticipation.

The next morning, you find yourself at the hospital’s small café, waiting for Jake. The early hour means the space is quiet, with only a few other staff members milling about. When Jake arrives, he’s carrying two steaming cups of coffee, a smile on his face.

“Good morning,” he greets, handing you a cup. “Thought I’d get us a head start.”

“Thanks,” you say, accepting the coffee and taking a sip. “So, what’s on your mind, Dr. Sim?”

“Just enjoying the company,” he replies, sitting down across from you. “And maybe getting to know the person behind the scalpel a little better.”

You chuckle, feeling a bit more at ease. “Alright, what do you want to know?”

“Let’s start simple,” he says, leaning forward slightly. “What do you do when you’re not saving lives?”

You think for a moment, realizing how rare it is for you to talk about anything other than work. “I like to read, mostly. And sometimes I go for a run. It helps clear my head.”

“Sounds nice,” he says, nodding. “I’m more of a swimmer myself. It’s the one thing that keeps me sane outside the OR.”

“Swimming, huh?” you ask, surprised. “I wouldn’t have pegged you for a swimmer.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Y/N,” he says, his tone teasing but with a hint of seriousness.

“Maybe,” you admit, feeling a strange curiosity about him. “But I’m starting to think I’d like to find out.”

The conversation flows easily, and you find yourself genuinely enjoying the time with Jake. As you talk, you see different sides of him—his passion for his work, his dedication to his patients, and even a vulnerable side that he rarely shows.

When it’s time to head back to your respective departments, you feel a sense of connection that wasn’t there before. Maybe Jake Sim is more than just a distraction. Maybe he’s someone worth getting to know.

As you part ways, he gives you a warm smile. “Same time tomorrow?”

“Same time,” you agree, already looking forward to it.

And so, a new routine begins. Coffee in the mornings, shared surgeries, and increasingly personal conversations. The barriers you once held up start to crumble, and you find yourself drawn to Jake in ways you hadn’t anticipated.

Weeks pass, and the connection between you grows stronger. One evening, after another successful surgery, Jake catches up to you in the hallway.

“Hey,” he says, slightly out of breath. “Do you have a minute?”

“Sure,” you reply, curious.

“I was thinking,” he starts, looking a bit nervous for the first time. “We’ve been spending a lot of time together, and I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you. I’d like to take you out for dinner. No work, just us.”

You feel a flutter of surprise and anticipation. “Dinner?”

“Yeah,” he says, smiling. “What do you say?”

You consider for a moment, then nod. “Alright, Jake. Dinner sounds good.”

As he walks away, you can’t help but smile.

The evening of your date arrives, and you’re both excited and a bit nervous. You’ve chosen a smart but casual outfit, and after a final check in the mirror, you’re ready. Your heart flutters with anticipation as you hear the sound of a car pulling up outside your apartment.

When you open the door, Jake is standing there, looking effortlessly charming in a blazer and jeans. His eyes light up as he sees you, and he smiles warmly.

“Dr. Y/L/N,” he says with a grin. “You look pretty.”

“Thank you, Dr. Sim,” you reply with a smile, feeling a bit flustered. “You look pretty sharp yourself.”

He gestures to the car parked behind him. “Shall we?”

You nod and follow him down to the car. As you slide into the passenger seat, Jake starts the engine and glances over with a playful smile.

“So, are you ready for an evening of fine dining and even finer conversation?” he asks, his tone light and teasing.

“I’m definitely looking forward to it,” you reply, settling into the seat and feeling a mix of excitement and curiosity.

As he drives, the conversation flows easily. Jake talks about his day and a recent surgery he performed, and you share some anecdotes from your own work. The drive is filled with laughter and engaging conversation, making you feel more at ease.

When you arrive at the restaurant, Jake parks and opens the door for you, offering his hand to help you out. The restaurant is a cozy bistro with warm lighting and a relaxed atmosphere. Jake leads you inside and to your reserved table, which is positioned by a window with a view of the city lights.

“This place looks lovely,” you say as you take your seat, admiring the ambiance.

“I’m glad you like it,” Jake replies, settling into his chair across from you. “I thought it would be a nice spot for our first dinner out.”

The evening progresses with delightful conversation and delicious food. Jake is attentive and charming, making sure you’re comfortable and enjoying yourself. As you both talk about various topics, you find yourself opening up more than you expected.

At one point, Jake asks, “What’s something you’ve always wanted to do but haven’t had the chance to yet?”

You think for a moment, considering the question. “I’ve always wanted to take a cooking class. I love to cook, but I think it would be fun to learn some new techniques and recipes.”

“That sounds like a great idea,” Jake says, nodding. “Maybe we could take a class together sometime. I’ve always wanted to learn how to cook Italian cuisine.”

You smile at the thought. “That could be fun. I’d be up for that.”

As the evening progresses, the conversation turns more personal. Jake shares stories about his family and his upbringing in Australia. He talks about the challenges of being far from home and the sacrifices he’s made for his career.

“It’s not always easy being so far away from my family,” Jake admits. “I miss them a lot, especially during the holidays.”

“I can imagine,” you say sympathetically. “My family is close by, and we have our own share of drama, but I’m grateful for their support.”

Jake nods, appreciating your understanding. “Family can be complicated, but it’s important to have that support system.”

You both continue to share personal stories and insights, finding common ground in your experiences. By the end of the evening, you feel a genuine connection with Jake, one that goes beyond professional respect.

When the check arrives, Jake insists on paying. “It’s my treat tonight,” he says with a smile. “Consider it a small thank you for a wonderful evening.”

“Thank you, Jake,” you reply, feeling touched by his gesture. “I really appreciate it.”

. The night air is crisp and refreshing, and the drive home is filled with easy conversation. When you arrive at your apartment, Jake parks and turns to you with a hopeful expression.

“I had a great time tonight,” he says softly. “I hope you did too.”

“I did,” you reply with a smile. “Thank you for such a lovely evening.”

you hesitate for a moment, then look at jake with a warm smile. “Would you like to come up? Maybe just hang out and talk some more?”

he considers the offer, feeling a mix of excitement and curiosity. “That sounds nice. I’d love to.”

He smiles and follows you up to your apartment. As you enter, the space feels even more welcoming with the soft lighting and cozy atmosphere. You both get comfortable on the couch with drinks, and the conversation continues to flow effortlessly.

You find yourselves talking about everything from past relationships to future aspirations. As the conversation flows, Jake starts to open up about his past relationships. “You know, I’ve had my fair share of relationships that didn’t work out. One of the biggest challenges was balancing the demands of work and personal life. It’s not easy to find someone who understands the hours and the emotional toll.”

“I get that,” you say sympathetically. “It’s hard to maintain a relationship when your job takes up so much of your time and energy. My last relationship ended for similar reasons.”

Jake looks at you with genuine curiosity. “What happened?”

You take a deep breath, reflecting on your past. “We were together for a few years, and it started out great. But as time went on, he couldn’t handle the unpredictability of my schedule and the stress of my job. We drifted apart, and eventually, we just grew in different directions.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Jake says softly. “It’s never easy to end a relationship, especially when it’s someone you care about.”

“Thanks,” you reply. “It’s part of life, I guess. We both moved on and found our own paths.”

Jake nods, taking a sip of his wine. The easy conversation slows, a new, more, intimate silence settling between the two of you.

Jake shifts slightly, closing the gap between you. his eyes locked on yours. you could feel the heat radiating off his body, and you suddenly felt very aware of your own. He reached out and brushed a stray lock of hair out of your face, his touch sending a shiver down your spine.

your heart raced as Jake leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. you responded eagerly, parting your lips to allow his tongue to explore your mouth. you could feel the heat building between you as you kissed, your bodies pressed together.

Jake's hands began to wander, tracing patterns on your back. you could feel his fingers brushing against the zipper of your dress, and you shivered with anticipation.

Jake pulled away from the kiss, his eyes dark with desire. "May I?" he asked, his hand hovering over the zipper.

You nodded, your breath coming in short gasps. Jake slowly unzipped the dress, his fingers brushing against your skin as he did so. You felt a thrill run through your body as the dress fell to the floor, leaving her standing in just your matching black bra and panties.

Jake's eyes roamed over yourbody, taking in every inch of you. You could feel yourself growing wet as he looked at you, his desire obvious and reflecting your own.

Jake stepped closer to you, his hands reaching out to touch you. You could feel his fingers tracing the lace of your bra, you shivered with pleasure. He leaned in and began to kiss your neck, his lips leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

a soft moan escapes as Jake's lips moved down your body, his hands following close behind. “you’re so fucking beautiful” He reached your breasts, his fingers tracing the outline of your nipples through the lace of your bra. You could feel yourself growing wetter with every touch, your body begging for more. “been thinking about this since the first day I saw you”

Jake reached behind You and unclasped your bra, letting it fall to the floor. He cupped your tits in his hands, his thumbs brushing against your nipples. You moaned as he touched you, your body responding to his touch.

Jake's mouth moved lower, his lips brushing against your stomach. you could feel his breath against her skin, and she shivered with anticipation. “w-ant you” He reached for your panties, “relax baby I got you”, his fingers tracing the outline of your pussy through the fabric.

you gasp as Jake's fingers slip beneath your panties, his fingers exploring your folds. you could feel yourself growing wetter with every touch, your body begging for more.

Jake pulled your panties down, his eyes locked on your pussy, “shit baby, you’re so wet f’me, such a pretty pussy” He leaned in and began to kiss your inner thighs, his lips igniting the heat pooling in your lower belly.

Jakes mouth moved lower, his lips brushing against your pussy. a loud moan leaves your lips as he began to lick at your entrance, your hand instinctively going between your legs to run your fingers through his black locks. “fuck, jake feels so fucking good don’t stop” he hums in response, the vibration going straight to your core.

he’s practically making out with your cunt licking and sucking, his saliva and your juices combined, making a mess on your couch, but that was the last thing on your mind right now. “fuck i’m c-cuming” your orgasm rapidly approaching. “yeah baby cum on my tongue, fuck can’t get enough of you, you taste so sweet”. at his words, your orgasm hits you like a wave, your body shaking with pleasure.

Jake stood up, his eyes locked on yours. you could see the desire in his eyes, and you knew what he wanted. you reached out and unbuttoned his pants, fingers brushing against his hard cock.

Jake stepped out of his pants, his hard cock springing free. while he wasn’t remarkably long, he definitely made up for it in girth. You reached out and wrapped your hand around it, stroking it gently. “ah shit baby” you could feel him growing harder in your hand, your excitement noticable.

he pushed you down onto the couch, climbing on top of you. “condom?” he asked, stopping in his tracks before he gets too ahead of himself. “it’s fine, just put it in” you reach down between you two, taking hold of his length as you begin to guide his cock into your dripping heat. his cock twitches at the thought of feeling you with nothing in between, “fuck, are you sure?”, “yeah, m’on the pill, just fuck me already please” your walls clench around nothing, needing to feel him inside you more than anything.

without another word he slides in. the stinging sensation quickly turning into one of pleasure. your pussy gripping him tightly as he sets a pace that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head. “so fucking tight, pretty, you’re squeezing me so good. pussy was made for my cock mhm?” you can’t even find the words to reply, the pleasure all too much to even think straight.

“feels so good jake” your words encourage him, his thrusts growing more quick, chasing his release as well as your own. the room is filled moans and the sloppy, wet sounds of his cock pounding into your hole. “s-so close, faster baby, want your cum inside me” you don’t have to tell him twice, his hips snapping into a pace that has you seeing stars.

“cum for me baby, cum on my cock” his hand reaches between you to rub your clit in quick circles, sending you over the edge “fuck! i’m cumming!” your release consumes you, his following not too long after.

he collapses next to you on the tiny couch, the both of you panting and out of breath as you come down from your high. “that was amazing” you turn your head to look at him, his eyes closed from pure euphoria he just experienced. “amazing is an understatement. it was fan fucking tastic” you let out a laugh at his pure honesty, a comfortable silence settling in the room.

he pulls you in by your waist, positioning you so your back is against his chest, a more comfortable position since your couch is definitely not meant for this. “i had a good time tonight” you can’t help the smile that grows on your face “me too”

as if the universe was against you, a beeping noise cuts through the silence, ending your moment. his pager was going off, they probably needed him back at the hospital, the realization of your jobs hitting you like a truck. “way to ruin the moment” he says getting up to check the pager “I gotta go, i’ll see you at work?” you smile at him nodding. he quickly gets dressed and presses a quick peck to your lips “get some rest” he tells you before rushing out the door to make his way to the hospital.

you can’t help but be a little disappointed. The obligation of your job was one of the many reasons you didn’t date, simply because it didn’t work. why did you expect this to be any different?

you drift off into a slumber, too tired to let your thoughts cloud your mind.

The next morning, the hospital is bustling with the usual chaos as you walk through the corridors towards your office. Despite the busy environment, your mind keeps drifting back to the night before with Jake. The memory of his touch, his kisses, and the intimate conversations you shared fills you with a warm, lingering sense of connection.

As you turn the corner, you see Jake standing near the nurses’ station, discussing a case with a colleague. He looks up and catches your eye, a slow, knowing smile spreading across his face. There’s a new glint in his eyes that wasn’t there before, a mixture of warmth and mischief.

“Good morning, Dr. Y/L/N,” Jake calls out, his tone playful and a bit louder than necessary, drawing the attention of nearby staff. “Did you sleep well?”

You feel a blush rising but manage to keep your composure. “Good morning, Dr. Sim. I did, thank you. And you?”

“didn’t sleep much, had a lot on my mind,” he replies, his grin widening as he walks over to you. “Must be the excellent company I had last night.”

Several nurses and doctors nearby glance over with curious expressions, but Jake seems unfazed. He stops just a bit too close, his presence commanding your attention. “I was hoping we might catch up over lunch. I’ve been craving some more of those conversations we had.”

You raise an eyebrow, fighting the smile that’s threatening to break through. “Is that so? Well, I’ll have to check my schedule.”

Jake chuckles, leaning in slightly. “You do that. In the meantime, if you need anything at all, you know where to find me.” His voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper, “Or maybe I should say, you know where to call me.”

You can’t help but laugh softly, shaking your head at his audacity. “I’ll keep that in mind, Dr. Sim.”

He winks at you before stepping back, returning to his conversation with the colleague but not without a lingering glance over his shoulder.

Throughout the morning, you find yourself running into Jake more often than usual. Each time, he manages to throw in a playful comment or a flirty remark, making it clear that last night’s intimacy has only fueled his interest.

In the break room, you’re pouring a cup of coffee when Jake slips in beside you. “we meet again,” he says, his tone light. “I was just thinking about how good you look in scrubs.”

You roll your eyes but smile, feeling a flutter of excitement. “Really? I’m sure you say that to all the doctors.”

“Only the ones who make a lasting impression,” he replies smoothly, his eyes sparkling with genuine admiration.

Later, while reviewing patient charts at your desk, you receive a text from Jake. It’s a picture of a heart drawn on a napkin, with a message: “Couldn’t help but think of you during rounds.”

You can’t stop the grin that spreads across your face. It’s clear that Jake’s flirting isn’t just a passing fancy; there’s a genuine interest and warmth behind his actions that makes your heart skip a beat.

Weeks turn into months, and your relationship with Jake settles into a comfortable, intimate rhythm. Without any formal labels, your connection grows deeper, rooted in shared moments and unspoken understandings. Lunches in the cafeteria become a regular occurrence, interspersed with stolen glances across the OR and late-night encounters that leave you breathless and wanting more.

You find yourself looking forward to these moments, the thrill of sneaking around adding a layer of excitement. During shifts, Jake’s flirtatious comments become a highlight of your day.

One afternoon, you’re in the break room, reviewing patient charts when Jake walks in, his usual confident stride and easy smile making your heart skip a beat. He leans against the counter, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Hey, beautiful. Busy?” he asks, his voice a low murmur that sends a shiver down your spine.

“Always,” you reply, trying to keep your tone light despite the turmoil in your chest.

Jake walks over, his presence commanding your attention. “You look like you could use a break. How about a coffee?”

You glance at the clock, knowing you have a few minutes to spare. “Sure, why not?”

As you walk to the “coffee shop” side by side, jake quickly takes a glance around to make sure no one is watching and pulls you into the on-call room, the tension between you palpable, you can’t help but feel the thrill of anticipation. The moment the door closes behind you, Jake’s hands are on your waist, pulling you close. His lips find yours in a kiss that’s both urgent and tender, a mix of passion and familiarity that leaves you breathless.

“You’ve been on my mind all day,” he murmurs against your lips, his hands roaming over your back.

“you pulled me away for this?” you let out a slight chuckle. “mhm want you so bad” his lips move down to your neck “jake we’re at work.”

your eyes shut closed, enjoying the feeling of his soft, plump lips on that sweet spot behind you ear that he always found instantly. “doors locked, no one’s coming in here” he mutters out.

you give in, your hands immediately going to his pants and undoing the tie on his scrub bottoms. “well in that case, I wanna suck your cock” you whispered, lowering down into your knees in front of him. Jake's eyes widened in surprise, but then he grinned.

"Fuck, yeah," he said, dropping his pants and boxers. His cock was hard and thick, the tip already glistening with precum, your heart pounding with excitement.

you reached out and wrapped your hand around his cock, stroking it gently. Jake groaned and closed his eyes, his head thrown back. you leaned forward and licked the tip of his cock, tasting the salty precum. Jake's groan grew louder as you opened your mouth and took him in, lips sliding down his veiny shaft.

you started to suck, head bobbing up and down as youworked his cock. Jake's hands were in yoir hair, guiding you as you sucked him off. you could feel his cock throbbing in your mouth, his balls tightening as he got closer to cumming.

"yeah, baby," Jake groaned, his hips thrusting forward as he fucked your mouth. "You're gonna make me cum so hard."

You moan around his cock, the sound vibrating through his shaft. You could feel his cock twitching in yourmouth, his balls tightening even more. you continued faster, fingers digging into his thighs as you worked him.

Jake's groans grew louder, his thrusts more urgent. you could feel his cock swelling, his precum flowing freely. you sucked harder, cheeks hollowing as your mouth got him to his release.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," Jake groaned, his hips bucking as he came hard in your mouth. You swallowed, throat working as you took every drop of his cum. Jake's hands were in you hair, holding your head as he came, his hips still thrusting as he emptied himself into your mouth.

When he was done, you pulled back, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Jake's cock was still hard, but it was starting to soften. You stood up, smiling at him.

"Did you like that?" you asked, voice soft and seductive. Jake grinned, his eyes still glazed with pleasure.

"I loved it," he said, pulling you into a kiss. "That was amazing."

As the weeks went on, you and Jake continued the little rhythm you had set in place. He flirted with you every chance he got. The both of you ending up in each others beds more often than not.

One evening, after a particularly grueling day at the hospital, you’re sitting in your apartment, staring blankly at the schedule in front of you. Your mind keeps drifting back to Jake—the way he looked at you during lunch, the warmth of his hand on your back as he guided you through the crowded cafeteria. The realization hits you like a tidal wave: you’re falling for him. Hard.

It terrifies you.

You’ve always prided yourself on being focused, dedicated, and in control of your emotions. But with Jake, everything feels different. The boundaries you set for yourself are blurring, and you’re not sure if you can handle the implications.

The demands of your job loom heavily over you. The long hours, the constant pressure, and the emotional toll of the medical field leave little room for anything else. As you stare at the schedule for the coming weeks, packed with surgeries and patient consultations, the reality sinks in: maintaining a relationship would be nearly impossible. The thought of trying to juggle your career and a growing emotional commitment to Jake feels overwhelming. After much soul-searching, you come to a difficult conclusion. It’s not fair to him or to yourself to continue something you can’t fully sustain. With a heavy heart, you decide it’s best to end things, believing that stepping back is the only way to preserve the little balance in your life.

The next day, you’re in the break room, trying to focus on patient charts when Jake walks in. He greets you with his usual easy smile, his eyes lighting up when he sees you.

“Hey, what are you up to?” he asks, his voice a low murmur that sends a shiver down your spine.

“just charting, the usual,” you reply, trying to keep your tone light despite the turmoil in your chest.

Jake walks over, his presence commanding your attention. “You wanna step away for a bit and grab lunch with me?”

You hesitate, the words on the tip of your tongue. You want to say yes, but the fear of what it might mean if you keep going down this path holds you back. “Actually, I have a lot to catch up on. Maybe another time.”

Jake’s brow furrows, a flicker of concern in his eyes. “Everything okay?”

You force a smile, trying to keep your emotions in check. “Yeah, just a bit overwhelmed with work.”

He doesn’t push, but you can see the worry in his eyes as he nods and leaves you to your charts.

Over the next few days, you start to pull back, keeping your interactions with Jake strictly professional. You avoid the on-call room, decline his offers for lunch, and keep your conversations short and to the point. It’s not easy, and you can see the confusion and hurt in his eyes every time you brush him off.

One evening, you’re leaving the hospital when you run into Jake in the parking lot. He’s leaning against his car, arms crossed, his expression serious.

“Y/N, can we talk?” he asks, his voice a mix of frustration and concern.

You nod, knowing you can’t avoid this conversation forever. “Sure.”

He takes a deep breath, his eyes searching yours. “What’s going on? You’ve been avoiding me, and I don’t understand why. Did I do something wrong?”

You shake your head, feeling the weight of your emotions pressing down on you. “No, Jake, you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just… I’ve been thinking a lot about us. About what we’re doing.”

Jake’s expression softens, and he steps closer, his hand reaching out to gently cup your cheek. “Talk to me, Y/N. What’s going on?”

You shift uncomfortably, feeling the weight of your decision pressing down on you. “I’ve realized that I can’t keep up with a relationship right now. Our jobs are so demanding, and I’m constantly running on empty. I don’t think I can give you the attention and commitment you deserve.”

Jake’s expression shifts from confusion to hurt. “Y/N, I thought we were making this work. Why now? What changed?”

You struggle to keep your voice steady, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. “It’s not about you. It’s about me and my inability to balance everything. I’ve been trying to make it work, but I can’t keep up with both my job and a relationship. It wouldn’t be fair to you.”

Jake’s eyes drop to the floor, and he takes a deep breath, trying to process what you’ve said. “So, this is it? You’re just… ending things? before they even started?”

You nod, feeling tears well up in your eyes. “I think it’s best. I care about you a lot, but right now, I can’t handle more than what I’ve got.”

Jake remains silent for a moment, then looks back at you with a pained expression. “I get it, Y/N. If this is what you need, then I respect your decision. But it doesn’t make it any easier.”

You reach out, touching his arm gently. “I’m so sorry, Jake. This isn’t what I wanted, but I need to focus on my career right now. I hope you understand.”

He nods, his eyes filled with a mix of sadness and acceptance. “Yeah, I understand. It doesn’t make it any less painful, but I get it.”

As you turn to leave, you feel a deep ache in your chest, knowing that you’ve made the right decision for yourself, but also feeling the weight of the loss. The break room seems colder now, and the empty space where Jake used to stand feels like a gaping hole in your heart.

Adjusting to life without Jake is more challenging than you anticipated. The hospital, once a place of shared glances and flirtatious banter, now feels strangely empty. The absence of his smile, his reassuring presence, and the warmth of his touch leaves a void that’s hard to ignore.

At work, you focus intently on your patients and your responsibilities, but the familiar routine feels different. The small moments that once brought you joy—a playful comment during a surgery, a quick coffee break together—are now replaced with an uncomfortable silence. Conversations with Jake are limited to work-related topics, and every interaction is laced with a professional distance that feels foreign and awkward.

In the OR, you work side by side, your focus on the patient and the procedure. Jake’s skill and calm demeanor are still impressive, and you find yourself appreciating his expertise even more now. But the casual camaraderie you once enjoyed is gone, replaced by a formality that feels both stifling and isolating.

During breaks, you find yourself missing the easy conversations you used to have with him. You used to share small victories and frustrations, but now those moments are spent in solitude or with other colleagues who don’t quite fill the gap Jake left behind.

Despite your best efforts to maintain your composure, you can’t help but feel the pangs of loneliness. Your personal life remains focused solely on work, and the connection you once had with Jake seems like a distant memory. You remind yourself why you made the decision, focusing on the demanding nature of your job and the need for balance.

Gradually, you begin to adjust, finding solace in the routine of your work and the support of your colleagues. The initial pain of Jake’s absence dulls over time, replaced by a newfound focus on your career and a deeper understanding of your own needs. Though the void remains, you learn to navigate your days with a renewed sense of purpose and dedication.

You’re passing through the hospital lobby, your mind preoccupied with patient charts, when you spot Jake standing near the information desk. He’s engaged in a conversation with Dr. Choi Miyeon, the oncology attending. Your steps slow involuntarily as you notice the easy laughter between them.

Jake’s smile is wide and genuine, his eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that once made your heart flutter. But today, the sight of that smile, directed at someone else, sends a pang of jealousy through you. Dr. Choi, with her poised demeanor and confident air, seems to be enjoying his attention, and the familiarity between them feels almost too intimate.

You try to focus on your task, but your gaze keeps drifting back to the two of them. Jake’s hand gestures animatedly as he talks, his face lighting up in a way that you haven’t seen directed at you in weeks. Dr. Choi’s laughter is soft and melodic, and she tilts her head slightly, clearly engaged in the conversation.

The sight of Jake looking so at ease with someone else brings an unexpected rush of emotion. You find yourself clenching your jaw, trying to ignore the gnawing sense of loss that accompanies the jealousy. It’s a reminder of the connection you once shared and the void left behind by your decision.

You force yourself to look away, turning back to your work with a renewed determination to focus on your patients. But the image of Jake’s smile and the easy rapport he shares with Dr. Choi lingers in your mind, leaving you with a mixture of regret and longing that’s hard to shake.

As you continue with your tasks, the memory of Jake’s interaction with Dr. Choi lingers, clouding your focus. Every time you glance up from your charts or interact with colleagues, your thoughts drift back to that moment in the lobby.

In the break room later that day, you catch sight of Jake entering, still visibly animated from his conversation with Dr. Choi. He looks up and sees you, his face lighting up with that same welcoming smile that used to be exclusively for you. The sight of it only intensifies the pang of jealousy you felt earlier.

“Hey, Y/N,” Jake says, approaching you with his usual warmth.

“Hi, Jake,” you reply, trying to keep your voice steady. You make a deliberate effort to maintain your professional composure, avoiding any mention of the earlier encounter.

Jake seems to sense a change in your demeanor but doesn’t press. Instead, he casually starts discussing the upcoming surgery, his tone light and engaging. You nod along, responding with the necessary professionalism, but your mind is elsewhere. You keep picturing him with Dr. Choi, the way they interacted so naturally, and it’s hard to ignore the twinge of regret.

As you wrap up the conversation and head to your next task, you can’t help but feel a deepening sense of frustration. The realization that you still care about Jake more than you initially admitted weighs heavily on you. The professional distance you’ve maintained seems more like a barrier than a solution, and the void he left behind is harder to ignore than you thought.

Later that evening, as you drive home, you replay the scene in your mind, questioning your decision. You wonder if stepping back from Jake was truly the right choice, or if you were merely trying to shield yourself from the possibility of a meaningful connection. The jealousy you felt is a clear sign of unresolved feelings, and it becomes evident that the emotional aftermath of ending things is more complex than you anticipated.

By the time you reach your apartment, you’re left grappling with the realization that you might have made a mistake. The lingering image of Jake’s smile, coupled with the undeniable ache in your chest, leaves you pondering whether there’s a way to reconcile your fears with the genuine affection you still feel for him.

But it would be utterly selfish of you to go running back to him when he’s seemingly started to move on. This was all your doing after all. He had every right to find what you couldn’t give him in someone else.

The ache in your chest refuses to fade. The image of Jake smiling at Dr. Choi replays in your mind like a loop, and the jealousy you felt transforms into a deeper, more introspective turmoil. You sit in your apartment, the stillness of the room amplifying the thoughts racing through your head.

You replay the conversations and moments you shared with Jake, recalling the comfort and joy he brought into your life. The connection you had felt real and profound, and now that it’s gone, the void seems more pronounced than you expected. The professional distance you’ve maintained does little to mitigate the lingering emotional impact, and the space between you feels even more significant.

The next day, you find yourself in the hospital, struggling to maintain the professional facade you’ve carefully constructed. Every interaction with Jake, though polite and necessary, feels strained and awkward. You avoid his gaze when you can, focusing solely on your patients and tasks, but the undercurrent of unresolved feelings remains.

During a particularly intense surgery, Jake is once again by your side, and the familiarity of working with him brings back a rush of memories. His presence, though professional, is comforting, and you find yourself drawn to him despite your earlier resolve. As you work together seamlessly, the shared glances and brief touches become almost impossible to ignore, reigniting a flicker of the intimacy you once had.

After the surgery, you’re in the on-call room, trying to catch your breath and clear your mind. Jake enters, a small smile playing on his lips, and for a moment, the professional barrier you’ve erected feels flimsy. He approaches you, his tone soft but playful.

“Everything okay, Y/N? You seem a bit distracted today.”

You look up, meeting his gaze. His concern and warmth are genuine, and it only adds to the confusion you’re feeling. “Just a lot on my mind,” you admit, forcing a smile. “It’s nothing.”

Jake’s eyes linger on you, a hint of frustration and worry evident. “If you ever want to talk, I’m here. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

His words cut through the walls you’ve built, and for a moment, you allow yourself to consider what you’ve been missing. The idea of opening up to Jake, of sharing your fears and feelings, feels both daunting and inviting.

As the day goes on, you grapple with the decision to reach out to him. The barriers you’ve erected are crumbling, and you realize that avoiding Jake might not be the solution you hoped for. Instead, you begin to consider whether there’s a way to address your fears and find a balance between your demanding career and a meaningful relationship.

The thought of reaching out to Jake, of possibly reconciling your emotions with the connection you still feel, starts to take shape. It’s a daunting step, but one that feels increasingly necessary as you navigate the complexities of your feelings and the emptiness left by his absence.

The days following your realization feel like a mix of regret and self-reproach. You can’t ignore the growing sense of remorse over ending things with Jake. The emptiness left by his absence is more acute than you anticipated, and the thought of missing out on something meaningful drives you to act.

One evening, determined to make things right, you head to Jake’s apartment, hoping to talk things through. Your heart races as you reach his door, and you take a deep breath before knocking.

After a moment, the door opens, and your heart sinks when you see Dr. Choi Miyeon standing there. Her presence immediately sends a wave of jealousy and discomfort through you.

“Doctor Y/L/N?” Miyeon says, her tone a mix of surprise and curiosity.

You stand frozen for a moment, the sight of her at Jake’s door intensifying your doubts. “Doctor Choi,” you manage, trying to keep your voice steady.

Miyeon’s expression shifts to one of mild confusion. “Did you need something?”

The thought of Jake being with Miyeon, combined with the realization that you’re intruding on what feels like an intimate moment, makes your decision for you. The hurt and uncertainty you’ve been feeling come to a head, and you realize you’re not ready to face him under these circumstances.

“I uh actually I’ll come at a better time”. Without another word, you turn and walk away from the door, your heart heavy with a mix of regret and frustration. You can hear Miyeon’s voice calling after you, but you don’t stop. The realization that you’ve arrived at the wrong moment only deepens the sense of regret.

As you leave the building, the cool night air hits your face, offering a brief respite from the emotional storm you’re navigating. You’re left grappling with the decision to return, to try again, or to accept the possibility that you might have missed your chance. The weight of the encounter with Miyeon only adds to the complexity of your feelings, leaving you to ponder your next steps in the solitude of the evening.

The following days are a haze of frustration and introspection. Seeing Miyeon at Jake's apartment made you feel even more disconnected from him. At work, maintaining your professional facade becomes more difficult as your emotions threaten to overwhelm you.

One morning, you’re at your locker, preparing for your shift, when Olivia walks in, her usual cheerful demeanor tempered by concern. “Hey, Y/N, you okay? You seem a bit off lately.”

You force a smile, trying to mask your turmoil. “Just a lot on my mind, Olivia. Thanks for asking.”

She nods sympathetically. “If you ever need to talk, I’m here. We all have rough patches.”

You thank her and head to the OR, trying to push your thoughts aside. But every encounter with Jake is a reminder of what you’ve lost. You see him in the corridors, in meetings, and every interaction is laced with a painful awareness of the distance between you.

One afternoon, you’re in the middle of reviewing patient files when Jake approaches you. His expression is neutral, but there’s an underlying tension in his eyes. “Y/N, can we talk?”

You nod, setting your files aside. “Sure, what’s up?”

He leads you to a quieter corner of the hospital. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about the other night. I saw you at my apartment, and then you just… left. What happened?”

You take a deep breath, the memory of that evening still fresh and painful. “I came to talk to you, to explain that I made a mistake in ending things. But when I saw Miyeon, I realized I couldn’t do it.”

Jake’s expression softens, a mix of understanding and frustration in his eyes. “Miyeon and I were just going over some research. There’s nothing between us, Y/N. But I get why you’d feel that way.”

The weight of your regret feels heavier now, knowing you misinterpreted the situation. “I’m sorry, Jake. I’ve been struggling with everything, and seeing you with her just… hurt. I felt like I’d already lost you.”

He steps closer, his voice gentle but firm. “You haven’t lost me, Y/N. I care about you. But we need to figure out what we’re doing here. This back and forth isn’t good for either of us.”

You nod, feeling the weight of your emotions. “I know. I’ve been scared, Jake. Scared that our jobs would make it impossible to have a real relationship. But I realize now that pushing you away was a mistake.”

Jake’s gaze softens, and he reaches out to gently take your hand. “We can make this work if we both want it, Y/N. But we have to be honest with each other, and we have to be willing to try.”

You squeeze his hand, a sense of relief washing over you. “I do want to try, Jake. I want us to work.”

He smiles, a genuine warmth in his eyes. “Then let’s take it one step at a time. We’ll figure this out together.”

As you stand there, hand in hand, you feel a renewed sense of hope. The road ahead won’t be easy, but the thought of facing it with Jake by your side makes it seem possible. For the first time in weeks, you feel like you’re on the right path, ready to face whatever challenges come your way.

The days following your night with Jake are a blend of professional decorum and personal confusion. You both agreed to take things one step at a time, but it's hard to ignore the magnetic pull between you. At work, Jake is as focused and brilliant as ever, but there’s an added layer of warmth in his interactions with you, a silent acknowledgment of what you share.

One afternoon, you find yourself in the break room, sipping coffee and going over department paperwork . Jake walks in, his eyes lighting up when he sees you.

"Hey, Y/N," he says, his tone casual but with an underlying hint of playfulness. "How’s your day going?"

You look up, trying to suppress a smile. "Busy as usual. Just finished a tricky valve replacement."

Jake nods, moving closer. "I heard. You did a great job."

You feel a flutter in your chest at his praise. "Thanks, Jake. How about you? Any groundbreaking surgeries today?"

He chuckles, leaning against the counter. "Just the usual brain stuff. Nothing too exciting." He pauses, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "So, dinner tonight? My place?"

You glance around to make sure no one is within earshot. "Are you asking me out, Dr. Sim?"

Jake’s grin widens. "Maybe I am, Dr. Y/L/N. What do you say?"

You pretend to ponder, then nod. "Alright. Dinner sounds good."

The evening arrives, and Jake picks you up from your house. He’s dressed casually but still looks incredibly handsome. The drive to his place is filled with light conversation and laughter, easing any lingering tension.

Once inside his apartment, you feel a sense of familiarity and comfort. Jake leads you to the living room, where he’s set up a cozy dinner with candles and soft music playing in the background.

"This looks amazing," you say, genuinely touched by the effort he’s put in.

Jake shrugs modestly. "I wanted to do something special."

The dinner is delicious, and the conversation flows effortlessly. You talk about your families, past relationships, and the challenges of balancing demanding careers with personal lives. As the night progresses, you feel the barriers between you dissolving.

After dinner, you move to the couch, a glass of wine in hand. The atmosphere is relaxed, and there’s a growing sense of intimacy.

"Tell me more about your family," Jake says, his voice soft and curious.

You take a sip of wine, thinking about your parents and your brother. "Well, my parents are both retired now. My mom was a nurse, and my dad was a teacher. My older brother is a lawyer. We’re close, even if we don’t see each other often."

Jake listens intently, nodding. "Sounds like a solid family. Mine’s a bit scattered. Parents divorced when I was young, so I spent a lot of time between Australia and the States. I have a younger sister who’s an artist. She’s currently exploring Europe."

The conversation continues, each revelation bringing you closer. You talk about your past relationships, the heartbreaks and lessons learned. There’s a vulnerability in the exchange, a mutual understanding of the complexities of your lives.

As the night deepens, you find yourself leaning closer to Jake, the warmth of his presence enveloping you. He reaches out, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face.

"Y/N," he says softly, his eyes locking onto yours. "I really care about you. I want this to work, despite the challenges."

You feel a rush of emotions, the sincerity in his words touching you deeply. "I care about you too, Jake. I want us to work."

He leans in, capturing your lips in a slow, tender kiss. The kiss deepens, your bodies pressing closer together. The desire that has been simmering between you ignites, and you find yourself losing track of time as you explore the depths of your connection.

You found yourself crossing the room to stand in front of him, heart pounding in your chest. You'd reached out, hesitantly, and brushed a strand of hair from his forehead. And when he'd looked up at you, his eyes dark with desire, you knew that you couldn't resist any longer.

You leaned in, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that was both gentle and passionate. He'd responded eagerly, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you close. And as you kissed, you felt a surge of desire coursing through your veins.

You pulled back, just enough to look into his eyes. "Jake," you whispered, voice husky with longing.

"Yeah, baby?" he'd replied, his voice low and rough.

And then you stripped, slowly and deliberately, letting him watch as you revealed her body to him. You’d seen the heat in his eyes as he'd taken in the sight of you, and you knew that you had him.

You moved closer, pressing your naked body against his clothed one. You reached down, unbuttoning his pants and freeing his hard cock, dropping to your knees, taking him into your mouth and sucking him deep.

He'd groaned, his hands tangling into your hair as you worked magic on him. “s-shit baby, taking me so good, that’s it” you sucked and licked and teased, driving him wild with pleasure. when you felt him on the brink, you pulled back, smiling up at him.

"Fuck me, Jake," you commanded, voice husky with desire.

He'd obeyed, lifting you up and carrying you to the bedroom. He laid you down on the bed, spreading your legs wide and burying his face between them. You cried out as he licked and sucked your clit, bringing you to the brink of orgasm.

And then he entered you, driving deep and hard. Your wrapped her legs around him, meeting him thrust for thrust as you made love. It had been passionate and intense, a connection that went beyond the physical and was different from the previous times you had indulged in each other’s bodies.

when you finally reached your peak, collapsing in a tangle of limbs, you knew that you made the right decision. You finally acted on your attraction, and in doing so, you found a deeper connection with Jake.

You both lie there, still engulfed in the bliss of this newfound feeling between the two of you. He can’t help what he says next, feeling as if keeping it in was impossible. “i love you Y/N”.

you snap your neck in his direction, maybe it’s the post orgasm haze but you search for reassurance anyways.

His big brown eyes confirming his words. “I love you too jake”.

The next morning, you wake up in Jake’s arms, the sunlight filtering through the curtains. He stirs beside you, his sleepy smile a welcome sight.

"Good morning," he murmurs, his voice rough with sleep.

"Good morning," you reply, feeling a warmth spread through you.

As you lie there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world outside seems distant and unimportant. In this moment, you feel a sense of peace and certainty. Whatever challenges lie ahead, you know you can face them together.

At the hospital, the dynamic between you and Jake shifts subtly but unmistakably. The stolen glances, the brief touches, the shared smiles—all are infused with a new depth of intimacy. Your colleagues notice, but no one comments, respecting the unspoken bond you share.

In the weeks that follow, the relationship deepens. You navigate the challenges of your demanding careers, finding solace and strength in each other. The on-call rooms become your private sanctuaries, the moments of stolen kisses and whispered confessions a lifeline in the chaos of the hospital.

One evening, after a particularly grueling shift, you find Jake waiting for you in the parking lot. His presence, as always, is a balm to your weary soul.

"Hey, pretty" he says, pulling you into a hug. "How was your day?"

"Tough," you admit, resting your head against his chest. "But it's better now."

He kisses the top of your head, his arms tightening around you. "Come on, let's go home."

As you drive back to his place, the city lights blurring into a comforting glow, you realize just how much Jake has come to mean to you. The fears and doubts that once plagued you have faded, replaced by a certainty that you can face anything as long as you're together.

Back at his apartment, you settle into a comfortable routine, cooking dinner together and sharing stories about your day. The conversation flows easily, punctuated by laughter and affectionate touches.

After dinner, you move to the couch, your bodies naturally gravitating towards each other. Jake pulls you into his lap, his hands resting on your hips as he looks into your eyes.

"Y/N," he says softly, his voice filled with emotion. "I know we've had our challenges, but I want you to know that I'm all in. I want to be with you, no matter what."

Your heart swells with love and gratitude. "I feel the same way, Jake. I want us to be together, through everything."

He smiles, his eyes shining with affection. "Good. Because I can't imagine my life without you."

You lean in, capturing his lips in a slow, tender kiss. The world outside fades away, leaving just the two of you, wrapped in each other's arms.

As the night wears on, you find yourself reflecting on the journey you've been on together. From the initial tension and uncertainty to the deep, abiding love you now share, it's been a rollercoaster of emotions. But through it all, you've found something rare and precious: a connection that transcends the challenges of your demanding careers, a love that grows stronger with each passing day.

and as you fall asleep in Jake's arms, you know that whatever the future holds, you'll face it together, hand in hand.

taglist: @hyunjinheartbreakprince @jaehoonii @enhaslxt @sumzysworld @justalittle-hee @seunghancore @curiousgworge @blockbusterhee @ribbioniki @chocolate-scoups @ineedsomezzz @theonewithouttheuwus @rairaiblog @chansloverr @armycarat2612 @slutforjaeyun @lovingvoidgoatee @jjklvr9 @fertilizedtoesw @ikeuverse @yohanseyebrowmole @mysticalenchantress @hchoes @en-gine @jakesbbygirl @miszes @simpjay @soobieboobiedoobiedaboobie @vveebee

[theturtlelovers]

Hi! May I request, for the sentence prompts, number 5: “I’m not going to stop poking you until you give me some attention.” For a female reader with Donnie who are bf and gf, and the reader is saying it to Don?

₽Φ₭€ ƒΦ₹ A₮₮€₪₮¡Φ₪

Pairing: Donnie/GN!Reader Rating: Everyone Contents: The reader is implied to be female in request but can be interpreted otherwise, Donnie licks icing off of pop tarts Warnings: None Wordcount: 666

Notes: Hehe, getting back to knocking those requests down! It'll be a while before I even consider reopening requests, though.

What you were doing wasn't particularly new. It had become a routine to lovingly annoy your boyfriend until he had no choice but to turn his attention to you. Because miraculously, the moment he did, he would see you fluttering your lashes and sending him a sickeningly sweet smile dripping with feigned innocence. If it were his brothers, Donnie would be ready to scold them to the point they'd regret even being in the same proximity as him. Yet, because of that victory grin you would flash when you got him to look at you, he couldn't bring himself to do so.

And it was very interesting because you'd always find new ways to grab his attention.

One time, you texted him that you needed assistance at your apartment. Being the helpful lover he is, he came over ready to lend a hand, only to find that you had lied and just wanted to have dinner with him. Although annoyed as his mind was already recalling his list of tasks, he realized how hungry he was and how much he yearned for your touch. So, he ate the home-cooked food you made and then stayed even longer for movies. 

Another time was when he hadn't emerged from his lab for nearly an entire week. While you absolutely respected the effort and dedication he put into his work, you missed him, and he seriously needed to take care of himself. So you sat next to him and started reading. Out loud. Very monotonously. And it was the Bible! "In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth," you began, your voice droning on in a blank tone. "And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep.”

Donnie didn’t register it at first, but then he looked at you in absolute confusion.

"And God said, 'Let there be light,' and there was light," you continued, not missing a beat.

“What are you doing?” If he had eyebrows, they’d definitely be raised right now. In his confusion, he was trying to fight a smile creeping up.

You looked up from the overly thin pages of the scripture, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “What do you think? I’m reading till you love me again.”

The self-taught scientist rolled his eyes, his annoyed confusion forgotten. “Okay, okay, come here.” Then there was that smile.

This time, you decided to employ the most annoying yet basic tactic to garner his attention: poking him repeatedly. Leo had once again clumsily broken the toaster, and it was out of commission. Donnie wanted to be able to toast his Pop-Tarts before licking the icing off later, so repairing the toaster was an absolute must.

It was hard to do that, though, when you slid in like a worm (he’d still love you as a worm; you’d be beneficial in different ways) and started poking him.

The first few pokes didn’t bother him at first. They were so fleeting and feathery he didn’t really care that you were touching him. They weren’t impeding his work.

But then they got a bit harder. And longer. And it was actually affecting his ability to think since you were choosing to poke random spots.

“I’m not going to stop poking you until you give me some attention.”

Donnie took a deep breath and slowly turned to you. You blinked at him blankly. God, he was so lucky was madly in love and your cute face and pretty lips- Donnie’s eyes closed for a moment. He took another deep breath and released it with a small shake of his head.

“Well, you certainly have it now.”

You did your little weird giggle as if you were some sort of gremlin. “Hehe! What’d the toaster do to Leo this time?”

While he recalled Leo’s version of the grand battle he had against the appliance, Donnie couldn’t help grinning when he saw the same smile you always have. Victory once again.

Tagging: @mrghostings, @whygz, @supershiny-raven Interested in getting tagged? Come check it out!

Like what you read? Check out my masterlist to see if you find anything else!

[ravenna-reid]

Admirer from the past...

TW: blood, mention of dead bodies and stalking/obsessive behaviour

An expert crime fighter. One of the youngest CEOs. A skilled detective. As good as the Bat. Maybe even better than him.

Tim often found himself conversing with police officers and other detectives that were actually qualified unlike him. Discussing the crime scene, the criminal, the victim, and the next course of action. They all respected Tim and were willing to work together.

One night Tim found himself standing amongst the chaos of the press, the solemn faces of detectives and officers and a name written in blood covering the footpath along with other gory things... The crimson letters painting the cement were a confronting display.

It was the works of a new villain, one that had only just started doing such things two weeks ago. He was one of the most psychotic men Tim had ever dealt with. And it seemed he had a nasty obsession with some poor girl, given he was constantly leaving dead bodies and flowers strewn across Gotham City dedicated to her.

Honestly, the situation twisted Tim's stomach, making him all the more adamant on finding this fucked up guy in hopes of sparing his target the fear and trauma.

Tim kept to himself as he tried to analyse the scene, picking up clues and taking his own samples. That was until the screech of tires on the road caught his attention. Turning to look over his shoulder, he saw another well known detective pull up beside the crime scene and hastily get out of his car. And with him a woman. Tim quickly let his eyes glance over you. You wore a fitted suit, golden hoops and your hair thrown up into a french twist. Throwing your trench coat over your shoulders, you hurriedly followed the detective with an unimpressed look on your face.

"If you haven't even caught the assailant yet, why am I here Harry?" You asked before you fell into step with your co-worker and friend. He was almost like an older brother to you.

"Because, I need your input. Your analysis. This guy is a fucking nut and we have no idea how to predict what he's gonna do next."

Intelligence and class seemed to drip off of you, and Tim was immediately smitten interested in you. He even found himself wondering if you were seeing the man you had arrived with.

Surely not, he was old enough to be your father.

You and Harry ducked under the police tape, your hands in your pockets and eyes trained on the gruesome scene. Black roses coated in thick blood decorated the ground around your boots. You instantly grimaced.

Harry made his way over to the group and greeted Tim first.

"Red Robin." He said with a nod.

"Detective." Tim said back, eyes still trained on you.

You turned in a circle to take it all in before nearing the group. "So, do we have anything on this guy?"

"Red Robin managed to hack into one of the shops security systems. The one across the street. With the footage he retrieved, we can see this sick bastard commit the crime, but his face is obscured."

You were watching Red Robin as the officer spoke, a little taken aback to see a vigilante standing in front of you. Let alone one of the bats.

"Can I see the footage?" You asked, eyes gazing back at his.

Tim swallowed hard. Your eye contact was unwavering, and he could feel a blush begin to creep onto his face.

"Miss, are you even a detective or-"

"Of course." Tim cut the officer off, handing you the tablet that sat atop a police car.

"It's fine," Harry said with the wave of his hand, "She's with me. She knows what she's doing."

Tim watched you analyse the footage. The man was wearing a cap, and some sort of odd make-up was smeared across his face. It might have even be blood you thought. You attentively watched the criminals behaviour. His mannerisms. The odd tick in his left shoulder. The limp in his right leg.

"Anything?" Tim asked.

His voice was like wine and you couldn't help but breathe in his cologne. You might come along to see these crime scenes more often.

"There's something." You admit with the furrow of your brows. "The way he moves. I can't put my finger on it though..."

Tim observed the badge clipped to the collar of your shirt. Although he could read what your occupation was, your coat was covering your name.

"Forensic psychologist?"

What a stupid moment to be making small talk. He began to chastise himself and his lack of charisma, but you didn't seem to mind, much to his relief.

"Mhm. Know what that is?" You teased, anticipating the Red Robin's response.

Tim smirked. "No actually, never heard of it."

You gave a light laugh and Tim felt he had to keep the conversation going.

"Are you new at this?" He asked. "I haven't seen you before."

"Not really," you replied with a soft smile. "It's my second year."

"Yeah, and she beats everyone in the game." Harry called out with a chuckle. You tried to hide your blush, but your humility mixed with your attempt to hide your reaction made Tim like you even more.

But the longer you watched the footage it suddenly dawned on you. The puzzles snapped together in your head and left you a little shocked. Tim immediately took note of the change in your demeanour.

"What is it?"

You held onto the tablet tightly. "I think I know who this is. The twitch. The limp. The hunched form and what he's doing..."

"Holy shit..." Harry said as the others all gawked at the writing on the ground.

Tim ignored them, focusing his full attention onto you.

"Back when I was just a psychologist. This guy came to me, I'm sure of it." You looked back up at Tim now, but before either of you could say anything, Harry called your name.

"You better get over here."

You and Red Robin joined the group, and as you looked down at the name on the footpath, your soul immediately dropped down to your feet.

"What's wrong?" Tim asked, looking up at Harry then at you. But now that you had moved, the name on your badge was revealed to Tim.

Everyone suddenly turned to look at you. And all you could do was stare down at the red letters before you.

"That's my name."

Continue to Part Two here

[fluffyprettykitty]

SELENE‼️‼️U AND UR DIRTY (and super talented may i add) MIND ARE GONNA BE THE DEATH OF ME😵‍💫😵‍💫

i saw ur ✨dbf!sam✨ post yesterday... so imma add fuel to the fire... and suggest *drumroll*

sugardaddy!sam😏

Warnings: oral sex, daddy kink, age gap, oral fixation, penetration, pretty much everything. if I missed anything major please let me know!

WC: 900 words

Author’s Note: thank you and sorry, this took a while sweet nonnie but it's here several heatwaves later & onto winter! still accepting requests for any sam wilson au particularly!

Main Masterlist ・❥・ Sam Wilson Masterlist

Sugar daddy Sam is a bit older than you, very confident in himself, loves showcasing his love at any second, and never hesitates to present you as his woman.

He loves to gift you things, of course, he loves learning each and every unique trait that represents to you to better determine what you need. He loves to say that every want and a whim is actually a need so he never hesitates at all.

Besides getting you a whole new wardrobe for each one of your dates, (Because you need to change at least four times to know what you look good in the most) completely set with shoes and jewelry and booked nail and hair appointments, a driver with fancy limousine waiting outside your house for as long as you need, he also likes giving you a big bouquet of flowers.

Once you complain that you don't have enough vases, he starts moving on to plants. Suddenly your garden is the prettiest in the whole neighborhood.

He has so many nicknames for you, sugar, love, baby girl, sunshine, and yet his favorite one is when he calls you a good girl when you are struggling to take all of his cock inside you. No matter how many times he has done that he still finds a little trouble going too deep. Only when you whine and beg that you can do it does he let himself loose.

Now he is a busy man, so he always makes sure to coordinate your schedules to spend as much as you need but also to make sure that he doesn't demand way too much of you. He knows that the time you dedicate to him is a privilege for him. He respects your job and your love for your family, he would never want to have you only living and breathing for him. So for every holiday, he books holidays for you and your family to take you all on.

He always takes his time to dote on you, a weekend getaway here or there, a day trip down to the beach, or the rooftop of a hotel booked exclusively just for the pair of you. He likes an inside pool just as much as he likes an outside one.

His favorite memory to keep through a busy day is the image of him on to you, his chain hanging above your lips, with sweat dripping down from both of your bodies as he pounds hard inside, your breasts vibrating just for him, he has thought of asking you to get nipple piercings many times but he still hesitates a little to ask you confidently.

He dreams of his fingers inside your mouth as you are sitting comfortably next to him on his velvet couch and he always misses you when you are not around.

He keeps little reminders of you on him all the time, besides love bruises. He loves keeping a necklace you got him for his birthday with your initials tucked underneath his chains. He has your name written on his cuff links, and he keeps a pair of your panties inside the pocket of his dress suit to remind him what he can return to after a long day.

Now each morning he texts you good morning without fail, he calls you when he knows you're getting ready for work, and he tries not to distract you too much but sometimes you end up being late for work, that's what happens when your phone has such a nice camera on it and his voice just sounds sweet and sensual like that.

Most of all he is a giver, when he's with you, he wants to spend his time worshipping you, asking you how much you love him as his tongue stays close to your pussy lips while his fingers caress your skin. He loves taking his sweet time eating you out only to relax you, and because as he says it's much easier for you to focus on anything with two orgasms drawn from out of you.

Sam always smiles whenever you call him daddy outside of the bedroom setting, he loves knowing you love him this much. His favorite moniker and the only thing that makes him harder at any given second. He loves tracing your lips with his fingers as you sweetly tell him about your day and he always listens, there's no piece of information that he ever forgets.

From diamond bikinis to expensive lingerie, to luxurious faux fur with nothing underneath, he never seems uninterested, in anything you do, or anything you wear, he likes them all as long as it's you and what you want.

And when he gets a little too frustrated at work he doesn't hesitate to call you for some sort of emotional or sensual relief and whenever you are available to get whisked away to his apartment or his office he makes sure to reward you in every way possible.

And he shows up to your house the day you've decided to deep clean everything, he takes off his shirt and helps you with everything. Never was afraid to get a little dirty.

If you want to be notified about my future stories please follow my library blog @fluffyprettykittylibrary and turn on notifications!

[stars-tonight]

Congratulations on 100 followers! And I hope school will be kind to you this year!

Can we see baguette + board games for the sleepover ask 👀

BUCKET LIST (FT. HINATA SHŌYŌ)

baguette -> hinata shōyō

board games -> bucket list

synopsis: what does hinata shōyō really want in life? pre-established relationship, pre-timeskip, fluff

word count: 632

what do you get when two bad students try to study together?

naturally, a disaster. hinata doesn’t know how to do any of his math problems. well that’s perfect, because you don’t either. why are there more letters than numbers in some of these problems? you’ll never know.

you don’t know how to do any of your chemistry problems. well that’s perfect, because hinata has never even heard of dihydrogen monoxide before. why do the same compounds go by twenty different names? you’ll never know.

all you know is that it’s been almost two hours already, and the sun is going down, and hinata’s mother is already cooking dinner for the family (and you, but you’re already like part of the family), and yet the two of you have barely made any progress on your respective homework assignments.

you set your pencil down with a harsh clink and a rough sigh. “this isn’t going anywhere,” you mutter, rubbing your temples. “and i have a headache.”

hinata drops his head on the table, defeated. “i don’t get anything, baby,” he whines.

you grumble incoherently and shake your head. “me neither.” you frown at your chemistry worksheet. “who needs chemistry anyway? i’m not going to be a chemist when i grow up.”

“and i’m not going to be a mathematician,” hinata agrees, nearly shuddering at the very thought.

it’s then that you’re struck by a brilliant idea. you rip a page out of your notebook. “shōyō, i have an idea! let’s make a bucket list! it’s perfect to distract us from dumb, boring homework.”

he frowns. “a bucket list?”

“yeah!” you write down the words ‘bucket list’ at the top of the page. “it’s just like a list of things we want to do in our lives. go crazy! no dreams are too big. i’ll start.” you tap your pencil against your chin, humming thoughtfully. “i want to travel to every country before retirement and take lots of pictures!” you scribble it down. “what about you, shōyō?”

he leans over to read over your shoulder, the light restored to his eyes at such a cool idea. “what i want to do. . .? win nationals!” he offers excitedly.

you chuckle fondly at your puppy-esque boyfriend, writing down the words. “and i want to . . . grow up to be rich and live in a mansion.”

“and i want to beat the great king!” hinata adds.

you stifle a laugh. “shōyō, are all your dreams about volleyball?”

he thinks about it for a few seconds. “yeah,” he admits. “there’s nothing else i would rather do with my life. nothing else i want more.”

you admire his dedication and passion. “then i’ll put it on my list to come to every one of your games and cheer for you.”

hinata blushes a little, thanking you with a kiss on your nose that makes both of you laugh. “then i’ll say that i’ll go with you to every country.”

just like that, time that used to tick by like water dripping from an almost-closed faucet starts to flow, as if someone had just turned that same faucet all the way. next thing you know, hinata’s mother is calling you both down for dinner, and you have filled up the whole piece of paper (front and back) with your big, childish, and maybe unachievable dreams.

you huff out a breath happily and blow a strand of hair out of your eyes. “it looks good!” you say, holding up the piece of paper and smiling. “let’s add one more thing. any ideas?”

“hm. . .” hinata thinks for a few seconds. “oh! i know!”

you turn to look at him. “what is it?”

he grins at you, leans forward, and plants a big kiss on your lips. “let’s be together and love each other forever.”

[vincentwonhogh]

for long i struggled to create an archetype for each of the pevensie siblings and assign them all a season of the year. i think i can now safely say they remind me of transitions between the seasons.

susan is a crisp breeze and the last breathtakingly beautiful icicles of cruel winter that transition into sweet snowdrops and daffodils peeking through a soft blanket of sparkly frost. she is the bringer of new hope and beginnings, for she often needs plenty encouragement herself. narnia brought out the best of her abilities. she steps first into the forest after a seasonal hibernation and her arrow sets motion to the first violets, rabbits and songbirds to wake up.

lucy takes the blooming to a whole new level, all flora and fauna dance with her swaying hair and her singing floods the air in warmth and pollen. her soul attracts the sun's magic from all corners of narnia and into your body. she is as playful and inquisitive as a fawn, yet fierce enough for the whole herd. she breathes life into the old apple tree that is her throne, and wildflowers make her crown.

peter is the ruler of the sweet aftermath, the sap and honey dripping from harvested trees as he slices the ripe fruit with his sword in gleeful celebration. his presence in the room roars respect but puts others at ease with his easy-going nature that is so correspondent with the maturity of the sun and fine wine that can be collected at this time. good spirits are drawn to him in nights slowly creeping closer and he welcomes prosperity into the country, so that his people are ready for the harsher season to come.

edmund, most sensible of all, bears the burden of the night in his mind, and he owns up bravely to this role brought on by fate. it wasn't his fault. but he understands no one else could so wisely and calmly deal with the nightmares lurking by the shortest day of the year. he is quick with decisions and no amount of stress could ever distract him from keeping his closest ones safe and sound in the cruel talons of winter. the gloomy rainy days are spent quietly reflecting and enganing the mind and curiosity thanks to this dedicated protector.

[benslittlestarkiller]

Vladimir Makarov Headcannon Imagines

This is dedicated to those who wanted me to write a Vladimir makarov story 💋

Vladimir is a traditional man. He shows his woman respect

He demands respect from you, too, however

If you disrespect him, it’s like a fun game for him

He gets to punish you

He makes sure the punishment is not only fun for him, but fun for you as well

Everything is consensual between you

And he also likes when you’re on top… though he never emit it…

Vladimir take you on dates to expensive restauraunts. You can order whatever you want

Total sugar daddy material. He buys you dresses and expanto sive jewellery,

he take you to Prsfda, VChannel, Gucchi, , Her,mires,

All the nicest stores in Moscow

You never have to work a day in you life with him, cus he will take CARE of you.

Yiu do NOt have to voook, clean or anything elsoe

He hires a maid for you, she do everything

You call him “Vladdy” or “Vladdy Daddy’

Vladmir stoood on the balcony of his expensive high rise penthouse apartment suite condominium umm

He never like to see you wear revealing deresss. Your body for his eye only. NO man loo at yoo

OR ELSE BREAK KNEE…..

You came up behind he and wrap ur fingers around he waist gently feeling his hardened muscles and sclupted booty, his firm body tough from battles he had won during his time in the military when he was younger, the training had formed him in to the hardend virilie form he had now.

“What is it baby girl” he asked in Russian accentw

He accent make your coochie tighten with need for he hardened thivk veiny bulging cook

When Flaccid it was like a Makarov pistole.

But when standing at attention like right now it was big as AK-47

“Vladdy I want you” you said in a breathless voice

“I want you too baby girl” he picked you up

And set you down effortlessly on the balcony railing 50 stories up

He grips youe thighs in his strong hands spreading your legs as wide as the black sea

Your princess parts already just as wet as the sea 2, u panties drooping weet and socked with need for Valdimie

“Ohhh please daddy I need it, my coochie is tingling”

Ur word gets hum going with intense adn debilitatng nerf NEED

So sorry guys news device so HWSF. t hard to tupe type with :C

His dick slid against your intimage area, his dripping essence mingling with yours

He slode your panties aasdide and pushed the tip, like the Onion dome of St Basils Chuch, against

You dripping aching cunt.

He take tim e filling you slowly so you fee each inch adn centimeter of his engorged and throbbing member

Your head falls back in exsctasy “OJHHHk….” you manned

nd he MAnned too. TThe feleling of. f your atight wales

Encasing him and sucking his deeper

He filled you deeply until he breached the sensitive barrier of your cachinh aching cervix

“OHHHHH Please full me deeper VlDDDY!”

“Oh baby gur yuo felt so sgoood……. ugh ugh ugh”

Each moan of his pleasure made you wall clench, squeesing him tight like squeezing into a pair of jeans after eating a generous bowl of borscht.

“oh, Bladimir, I can;t i htink i’m gonna……”

You body shakwes violently as you come on his virlie cup

“AHHHH@@!!!!! Bladdy!!!! Vlad@@!!!!”

The feelungb of u tight geat him close t o the edge of falling off thr edge of bluss

But h held back,

His trusts becme hurdle nd fatter as he is losing himswlf in plosure

His cock swells like a sponge left in the sink during washing up after dinner

But you didn’t knew about it acuz your maid did it

Hoa beethunf becined eruged BS

And thun he cams inside your

Hole

Thick hefty spurts fill your waiting womb like a bowl waiting to be filled with borscht

Or a pelmeni dumpling being filled with a serving of meat and veggies

His cum drips our off you down your leg and then down off the belcuny into the city street of Moscow Russia

Cum fell like sno soft and wet onto the winter city

Your love dripping for all too seee

Even the maid

As she cum alung to clean the evideance away offf the balcunty

That day and night Vladimir Jr was conceived in a flurry of pission

Ladimurlove his sun

Vladimir jr

He was a good boy raised by his loving mother ans father

You love him. Raise him to fight in war

The wing

[tower-arcana]

no fancy format but i did happen to write a short david study last night before the sleep demons claimed me Heh.

obviously be wary of implied spoilers, also there's a brief moment of violence there too, and i also mention mai very vaguely at some point!

writing as well as ao3 link below the cut!

If David had to choose a single object he loathed more than any other, he would have to say mirrors. Sure, there was the go-to reason of having to look himself in the eye every time he passed by one, but that was so superficial at first glance. Just like him, haha.

Really, there were quite a few things he could list off about why he despises mirrors. In a physical sense, he’d grown to dread getting up in the morning and meticulously picking apart his appearance, making himself seemingly perfect to the audience he’d be performing in front of. Yes, performing, like an actor, center-stage — or more like a jester dancing for a fool’s pay of laughter alone.

David had spent countless hours staring into his own reflection, disgusted by the man he saw, the man he’d become. What had anyone ever seen in him? What had she seen in him? It didn’t matter, none of it did; it was all gone down the drain, anyway. Whatever he’d once been forgiven for now meant nothing.

Returning to mirrors, he supposed there was a metaphorical aspect to it as well. Seeing himself in others had never been a good sign for David, as he likely came to have a certain disdain for those people as well, based on what exactly he saw. Cynicism and hiding behind a mask nearly always made him want to see those people fall, to sabotage them and ‘free’ them by letting the world really know what a real fraud they were.

Optimism, true and pure unadulterated optimism like the one he portrayed in his dedicated persona, though? The initial reaction would be disbelief, skepticism, maybe a bit of envy — then, surprisingly enough, respect. He would even be endeared to such a naive, brute force in such a lost world, because deep down, he knew he’d be happier if he could have some of that hope for himself.

If David could just look at the world with some form of hope, to think that any of this could somehow, someday get better… it would be nothing short of a miracle, by this point. Still, he found himself wanting to look to such a guiding light, to follow it like he was supposed to be followed himself.

Maybe if he could be forgiven by something so bright, so good, he could forgive himself. At least, that had been his thought process.

But now, as David stared at the gruesome mess his manicured demeanor had become, he felt no remorse for the way his hopes had fallen flat. He should’ve known from the start, anyway. Nothing, nobody, no force on earth could undo the fact he was worthless, and it was his own self-inflicted torture to keep trying for better days like this.

In the back of his mind, he could hear a familiar, cheery voice reassuring him that he had worth, that he’d see a happier tomorrow, that he’d smile without feeling bile rise up his throat from the fake measures taken. He sees them in the mirror, red hair, a wide grin, eyes that shine like the sun…

David feels sick, his ears ringing as he pulls his fist back, and before he can even think about the mess he’d have to clean up later, he punches through the glass altogether. A sharp pain shoots through his knuckle and up his arm, the mirror’s shards embedded in his skin as crimson drips down onto the clean, white marble of the countertop, but even as he recoils and curses, he can barely feel it.

Numb. All of it is just numb at this point, too repetitive to elicit a proper reaction from. And this is why David can’t bring himself to look in the mirror.

or, the ao3 link here!

[lesinquietes]

Kinda salivating like a wild animal at the thought of Pirate!Levi, who keeps a tight ship and also has his eyes on your booty 😏

Tw; fluff, misogyny, smut

—

Pirate!Levi has known you for a few years. He first took you in when his crew docked in a harbour town. Like various other residents, you resorted to crime for survival. You reminded him of a younger version of himself, before he found the sea. When you approach him and his crew and they’re about to depart, you implore him to take you along. He’s as shocked as his first mate when he doesn’t hesitate for a second.

“Welcome to the crew, then. Don’t cause any trouble and pull your fucking weight. If you fuck around, I’ll heave you off the ship myself.”

Pirate!Levi thinks it’s asinine how dedicated you are to each and every little detail. You’re clean. You’re proper. And you’re both of those things while simultaneously being a pirate, yourself. Everyone else smells and looks like shit. You care about your appearance. A few mock you for it. He respects your consistency.

Pirate!Levi doesn’t know how to talk to people he likes. He’s unintentionally abrasive. He can’t keep a conversation without long lapses of silence. You probably think he hates you. Unfortunately, he’s especially bad at confrontation. It turns out “what the hell are you so afraid of?” isn’t the correct way to reassure you. Thankfully, his first mate Petra is around to give him advice. You respond much better to, “you’re one of the best bodies I have on this ship.” And yeah, when he says that, maybe he’s talking about your physical figure, too.

Pirate!Levi fucking hates that some of his crew members don’t know how to keep their dicks in their pants. They see you or Petra or Mikasa or Sasha, and all they want to do is get their cock wet for an evening. They won’t appreciate you the way he would — the way he will.

Pirate!Levi beats the shit out of Eren Yeager after he sits next to you below deck and tries to get cozy. He doesn’t replicate the punishment for any of the other female crew members. From that point on, everyone is careful around you. Whisperings of “the captain’s girl” meet your ears and brings a flush of heat to your cheeks. Flustered, you elect to ignore them. A man as stoic as Captain Levi — dread pirate of Paradis Island — wouldn’t feel anything at all for the likes of you.

Pirate!Levi meets you on the deck one evening, after the others have gone to bed. It’s chilly. He gives you his large overcoat. Next comes an arm around your shoulder, reeling you in closer to him, as the two of you hang off the side of the ship. Your legs freeze mid-kick when he takes your chin in the careful grasp of his thumb and index finger. His lips hover above yours, and he wonders whether he should kiss you. He’s your captain. You might only consent to his advances because you think he’ll punish you otherwise. Of course, his belief changes when you close the gap between your mouths and seal the deal yourself.

“Shit… I’ve wanted this for months. Let me have you tonight.”

Pirate!Levi makes love to you. He’s not gentle with anything else in life except your body. He hopes you can feel the passion coursing through his palms as he covers every inch of you, exploring your skin. His fingers wisp across your nipples, hardening them into perky peaks for his hungry mouth. He doesn’t stop tending to them until you’re panting and mewling and dripping through your trousers. He wants you to make his pant leg wet by grinding on his thick thigh. He won’t let you up until you follow through. He needs to see how desperate you are for him.

Pirate!Levi watches your pussy engulf his cock as he bounces you on his lap. He murmurs something about how beautiful you are in the candlelight. You can’t reply. All that flies from your lips are moans and gasps. Praise fills your mind. You love this. You’ve wanted this, too. Your fingers stopped being enough weeks prior to this delicious fantasy that’s come to life.

Pirate!Levi decides you’re his when you rouse the next morning and give him more of his fix. He doesn’t make any announcements to the crew. They find out when he has you move into his chamber. Your role goes unspoken. If anyone gives you grief, it’s the plank.

Pirate!Levi isn’t in love with the concept of you want to participate in raids and battles. He understands that you’re also a pirate, and that plundering for riches is part of your duty, but he hates how dangerous it is. Sometimes, the rich that he targets fight back. Someone pulls a gun and it’s curtains; that’s precisely how Farlan and Isabel died. He’s very well aware that, albeit strong, he’s not a god. There will be times where I you’ll have to handle yourself. He just hates how difficult it is to trust that you’ll be fine.

“Listen. If you don’t come back from this raid, I’m going to gut everyone in this fucking town until I find the one who killed you. Don’t use this as an excuse to get careless. Got it?”

Pirate!Levi gives you more passionate hugs and kisses when you return to him. The sex is filled with desperation and fear, as though he’s funnelling all his anxieties into his motions, intent on dispelling them with his ferocity. Your legs are wobbling by the time he finishes with your poor, throbbing clit. The amount of love he pours into pleasing you is unparalleled; he didn’t know he could reach these heights of intimacy with anyone. He needs you forever. He won’t accept anyone else.

Pirate!Levi vows to dock his ship on land one day so he can start a family with you — if that’s what you want, of course. He thinks he’s up for anything with you by his side. He’s lost many things in his life. He thought the one thing he’d always have was the sea; he’s satisfied that you’ve become much larger than that in his heart.

[miracles-and-butterflies]

Is Dolores gonna announce about her regime any time soon?

Heading into town was her next call of action. If shutting her family up had been that satisfying, then shutting the townspeople up would be her own ideal of heaven.

She paraded herself through the centre of town, in a similar fashion to how Señorita Perfecta Isabela would have graced these same street no less than a year ago, but with her silencing sound waves in place of fresh flora.

Anyone she passed, whether they looked at her or were talking about her or not at all, immediately found that they were unable to make a sound. Some of the smarter ones decided to run, but not even that would save them. It had never saved her. No matter where she went or how far she ran, she was still forced to listen to audible torture.

Señora Pezmuerto had been the one to spot her first, whispering to Padre Flores, asking him to try speaking some sense into Dolores. After all, they had been close once - she was a dedicated member of the gospel choir in her school years, the harmonious backing vocals to Isabela or Camilo’s solos. She turned from the priest, as if attempting to make the situation better by placating the listener, only to be waved off entirely.

Dolores only smiled that the aghast look on their faces and the villagers surrounding them. As Señora Pezmuerto silently spluttered, Padre Flores was quick to make a sigh of the crossover himself as Dolores continued onwards. She’ll come back to him later maybe - church would be much more enjoyable without his rambling sermons, that’s for damn sure.

The serene moment was interrupted by a chorus of shouting. Three of the village kids, no doubt children Camilo had babysat at some point or another and who had become friends of Antonio’s since his ceremony, were yelling at her.

“You can’t do that! It’s mean!” Called Juancho.

“What is she doing? Why is she doing this!?” Cecilia asked anxiously, glancing at the other two.

“She’s being a bully, that’s why!”

“Juancho! Shush, you’ll make her more mad!” Alejandra tried to hush him.

Dolores thought for a moment.

They were children… but, she had been a child too. And that never seemed to cross anyone’s mind back then, why should it cross her’s now?

She beamed, bringing her hand down to them. Her smile only stretching wider, bearing the whites of her teeth like a jaguar greeting its next meal, as their shouting disappeared and was replaced with ugly, inaudible sobbing as they ran back to their respective families.

“What is the meaning of this?” Old Arturo asked, stepping through the crowd. A member of the council - simply trying to put a stop to this before things got more out of hand. “You have to stop this, these are innocent children!”

“And as was I.” She countered, shushing him.

The old man stumbled, some of the younger members of the council immediately came to stable him, finishing off the argument he had started.

“You all did promise to help us Madrigals more,” she teased. “And well, the best way you can help me is by not uttering another word. Fair is fair, you expected me to be silent about every dirty rumour and scandalous secret I heard against my will, now it’s your turn.”

Proving her point, those yet unaffected did not remain quiet.

“This is completely unfair!”

“Ay dios mio, she’s worse than Bruno.”

“We never did anything to you!”

“I always knew she would I eventually snap. I mean, just look at her mother.”

“It’s not our fault you’re so ungrateful about your gift!”

Her eye-twitched. Her confidence and enjoyment seemed to fracture, boiling back into pure, unrelenting anger. She locking her gaze on whoever said that last comment.

The crowd abruptly went quiet. The person, an old classmate of hers and Isabela’, Abigail Montez, did have the sense to shut up at that point. She looked green, stepping back amongst the crowd, sweat visibly - audibly in Dolores’ case - dripping down her face.

“You know,” she started softly, matter-of-fact. “I’d rip your vocal cords out and strangle you with them if I could, Abigail, but alas, as I cannot...” She raised her hand, a twisted look on her face. “This will have to suffice!”

[unrealization]

Invasive ask! Danny, did you hate your father?

Invasive Questions | Accepting!

Anon asked Danny.

Question rating: 10/10

His breath caught in his throat, as he felt compelled to suck the rage back inside. The utter gall to force this question, of all questions.

"Stupid question." He spat, venom dripping from his tongue.

He struggled to find composure, as violent urges crept up his spine and to his hand. How can he hate the man who made him? The very man who showed him the mask to which he'd dedicated his life to pulling back?

True, his father wasn't a good man. Nor a kind man, nor someone he particularly liked. He was honest. At least he was honest to his son. He never hid behind the mask of polite society around Danny. He was happy to tell him all about the true face of humanity. The savagery of war, the glory of violence. He'd never once shied away from it. Even when Danny was still so young, he never valued petty falsehoods like 'childhood innocence.'

He respected the man for it. His honesty. In a way, the Ghostface was his way of bearing his torch now that he was gone. He'd guided his hand in the early days. Shown him how to work the knife, where to cut an animal to make it bleed. How to think like a predator, because that's what humans were, deep down. Predators. Gore-hungry mongrels that were being held back only by the mask covering their teeth.

Oh, but Danny saw his father's teeth. So. Many. TImes. Through all the training drills, all the demands for medals and glory.

"My father. How could I hate him, He was my..."

Inspiration. He remembered his first design. That night in the woods with him and his father. When he had improvised. When he finally bared his own fangs. That same rage roiled in him again as he thought back. Considered how he'd just boiled over that day. He was close now. But he was the best. He wrested control back, wearing a dispassionate mask once again.

But his hands still trembled. Like something was trying to get loose.

Was it hate? No. His father deserved a more fitting end, and he recognized that. How many times had he stabbed him? He'd heard that crimes of passion were marked by such things. So many stab wounds, even post mortem usually meant the victim was killed by someone who...

He snickered. Then he laughed. Before he knew it he was doubled over, laughing so hard his stomach hurt. He should deflect. He should crack a joke or just deny. But he can't, so he lets the mask slip. Showing the part of his true face he even hid from himself.

"Did I hate him? Sure. I hate you, too. But what's that old saying? The opposite of love isn't hate. Its indifference. So many people are boring and forgettable... I'd rather just hate them. All of them."

He pulled the pale mask from his face, and eyes even blacker than the Ghostface peered out.

"Humans are beneath contempt. All of us. Too scared of ourselves to live outside of our own lies. I... I'm not going to be part of the problem. My father was brilliant, but he was short-sighted. The enemy isn't on some foreign battlefield. Its here. Its all of us. I... I have to show the world its true face."

[siriannatan]

When in doubt go to Chromia - ScottfWhipJImmy

Every now and again I remember that I don't have to stick to the canon 'lore'. I can have goblin fWhip not be super short, I can have Joel-Jimmy defamation trial happening while hermits are there, and I can make fWhip and Jimmy be friends. And I can make them share a crush on Scott.

And no one can stop me.

Jimmy was really not in the mood for his upcoming trial against Joel over the whole sheriff toy thing. He was still very glad Gobland was hosting the trial and that fWhip agreed to be his attorney. If anyone knew the law and how to respect and practice it be for sure the goblins. Even if they - especially fWhip - were a bit weird about his hat and badge. He never thought having a home in Gobland would be of any use to him - he had too much work in Tumble Town as both the sheriff and mayor to visit for longer - but with the court battle upcoming he decided to stay a couple of days. To go over his case and some finishing preparations with fWhip.

He was expecting they'd just do it at the Drip, over some Goblin food and drinks. Not to be told "We're going to Chromia, Scott shouldn't mind us preparing there," as soon as fWhip arrived, a bag of files and books on one shoulder.

"Why can't we prepare at the Drip?" Jimmy asked but sped up gathering his things. He did not trust the drinks served in Chromia and he knew many of the recently arrived Hermits - creatures about a head shorter than fWhip - were staying there. Scott of course had some tiny sheriff's there but he apologised and removed them once he heard Jimmy did not endorse Joel's nonsense. 

"According to goblin law, if a case includes outsiders no matters to do with it can be discussed within Gobland's territories for twenty-four before and after the meeting in court," fWhip explained. No wonder he was the Goblin leader, he knew all their laws, not just those pertaining to his main interests, by heart. And was slightly taller than other goblins but that was probably a coincidence since he was just a little bit taller. Still much shorter than Jimmy. Barely reaching about the middle of his chest. "And it lets us show off how dedicated you are to the case," the goblin added.

And so Jimmy found himself in the tightest, most corner booth of Chromia's tavern. His and fWhip's knees constantly hit under the table. Colourful, sparkling drinks barely touched, same as their paperwork. They were just watching Scott entertain their surprise guests and overseeing a slowly dying down at this point karaoke contest. Pearl was absolutely destroying everyone.

"I might have a thing that Joel can't really argue," Jimmy hummed a little bit of time later, once Pearl won and Hermits decided to see how well they can move towards Gobland. "God law, one god cannot insult another god in front of mortals, I didn't really want to do it but he's really annoying," he explained with a heavy sigh. "Damn it... Scott's pretty."

"He is..." fWhip nodded, blankly staring at their mixed papers. "We'd need to prove you're a god, and that god law is real," he added as his stare moved to Scott waving the Hermits away.

"Would a word of the god of law be enough to prove god law real?" Jimmy offered, really hoping hermits would speed up in clearing out the tavern. He was done talking law.

"I think it would be enough," fWhip shrugged. "How do we reach him?"

"I'm right here," Jimmy smirked. "Just no temples, they make me uncomfortable," he chuckled at the slack-jawed goblin.

fWhip was fully silent, staring at Jimmy with wide eyes and a slack jaw as Scott walked towards their table. Crystals poked from his perfect skin, slight sway to his step. Wide smile showing pointy teeth of the crystal demon ruling over Chromia. Demon pacts were a form of law so Jimmy had no issue with him taking over due to one. "What happened to fWhip?" he asked, fully sober even if he likely drank more than all the hermits together.

"He just learned he's his god's attorney," Jimmy shrugged, his hat vanishing and replaced by a golden star halo, his eyes shining a dim gold. "fWhip? You okay?"

"I'm fine..." fWhip nodded, blushing a dark shade of green as Scott pushed himself into Jimmy's lap.

"You don't look it," the demon hummed. "When is that mighty court battle?"

"Day after tomorrow," Jimmy hummed, snapping all their papers back into order. 

"Would you two mind staying in my mansion for the night? I have so many free rooms, I thought I'd never be done with the remodelling," Scott offered, quickly changing into a dramatic complaint.

"Sure," Jimmy agreed with no hesitation. Easily picking up Scott and fWhip and all the law books and papers. And as Scott yelled 'Their drinks are on me!' at the poor bartender, carried his 'friends' to Scott's manor for a tour...

[beevean]

So I've decided that everytime I receive anon hate, especially from my friend here, I will post a part of my WIP.

Will I run out before they give up? Will I be motivated enough to finish it? Will I lose followers for the cringe? Who knows! But the important thing is that now I will look forward to these lovely messages :D

In his life as a strategist, Mathias has commanded many knights, and he can pride himself to understand them at a first glance: the cowards who are doomed to die during their first battle, the reckless ones who are too arrogant to follow simple orders, the brave ones truly dedicated to their mission to fight in the name of God. His dear friend Leon is one of the latter:  he was the first, and until now only, knight that has ever impressed Mathias.

And it is his experience that makes him conclude that, had Hector been born in his lifetime, he and Leon would be able to conquer Hell together.

An ironic consideration to make, for sure. In appearances, Hector is not noble; quite far from it. Not only does he come from far humbler origins than Mathias or his friend, but he serves in the name of unspeakable evil.

(Mathias refused to listen to that monster, bending over him with the grin of a beast, fangs dripping with the life of the innocents he had murdered. He dared to tell him that the two are one and the same, he dared to deride his faith as a waste in the end. It cannot be. Mathias Cronqvist, becoming such an insult against God? Unfathomable!)

Nevertheless, the man carries himself through the masses of wretched demons with cold grace and pride. He knows exactly his own worth: a rare quality to find in knights of such value. Even the Count himself seems to be impressed with his protégé, speaking to him with a respect not usually reserved to a mere servant, showing off his skills in combat with pride, parading him around like a precious trinket. Hector himself never betrays an emotion: he simply stays by his Lord’s side, disciplined, the image of the perfect knight.

Mathias wants him, and the desire itself comes as a surprise. He has no further need for a fighter, when Leon is worth ten of them; then why can’t he stop looking at the man with silver hair?

[the-bad-batch-baroness]

💚 Drip 💚 - SFW Alphabet

A - Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Drip is extremely affectionate. Almost as affectionate as Tungst, but maybe a little less annoying about it, or less clingy. Drip is more affectionate with his words than actions, which is the opposite to Tungst. However, he does like to give small kisses whenever he can and does enjoy hugs and cuddles. He’s been known to stare dreamily at his partner and list off everything he loves about them, as well as shower them with praise. 

B - Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Drip and Chance have been best friends from the moment they were decanted. As the two youngest members of the batch, they bonded quickly and are now almost impossible to separate. Outside of the squad, I would pair Drip with Tup and Dogma as a friends group. I think they would roll well together. Drip is more cautious and rule-oriented, but not as strict as Dogma is, so I think he offers a nice balance between the two. Also, Drip just seems drawn to other batch babies. 

C - Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Drip needs every single cuddle he can get. While not as emotional as Chance, Drip does need reassurance when things get overwhelming. He will reciprocate and cuddle his partner whenever they ask him to, so it would never be one-sided. He does like being the big spoon in bed, but will occasionally concede to being the little spoon if requested. He really loves to lay his head in his partner’s lap and have them play with his hair. That’s his favorite form of cuddling.

D - Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Drip is domestic-coded, and borderline housewife-coded. Most people would consider Tungst and Brett to be “dad” and “mom” of the batch, respectively, but everyone knows Drip is the real “mom.” He can do it all and more. He can cook, bake, clean, organize, launder, iron, grocery shop, and everything else that belongs to domesticity. He can even fold a fitted sheet! He will settle down with his partner and make a beautiful life for them. He wants the home, the kids, the lawn, and the white picket fence.

E - Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

If Drip had to break-up with his partner, he would be doing it with tears in his eyes. Drip creates deep emotional bonds, so a break-up is the last thing he would ever want to do. When Drip loves, he loves with his whole heart, body, and soul. He’s picky with his partners, because he doesn’t want to be hurt and he’s not one to date around or pick up people. There would have to be a very good reason for Drip to break off his relationship, and if that is the case, then he would most likely be the one left heartbroken.

F - Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quickly would they want to get married?)

Drip is 100% committed to his partner if they are committed to him. However, he would be slow to pop the question. He doesn’t want to skip the dating phase and jump in without properly vetting his partner. He believes that marriage is a commitment for life and he doesn’t want his partner bailing on him when things get tough or when the spark takes a little longer to flame. He would make a great dedicated husband for the right person.

G - Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Drip is incredibly gentle. He’s always struggled with his identity as a clone, being created to kill. It’s rather defective of him, but he’d rather not hurt anyone, even someone considered an enemy. He doesn’t like killing and he doesn’t like inflicting pain upon others. This attitude will translate into his relationships. He’s like a soft cuddly bunny that could do no harm, but anyone could do harm to him. He has nothing but kindness to give, and he will give it to anyone, even if that person takes advantage of him.

H - Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Yes, Drip loves hugs. He will hug his partner any chance he gets, and it’s usually accompanied by sweet nothings and words of praise whispered in their ear. He loves to squeeze them, pick them up, and twirl them around. His hugs are warm and gentle, and feel like home. 

I - I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Drip would be slow to say I love you, but when he does say it, he means it with all of his heart. He is very cautious of getting his heart broken, which is why it might take him longer to say it. However, he has a lot of love to give, but he needs to know that he can trust his partner with his love. Again, Drip doesn’t love with half of his heart, it’s either all of it or none of it.

J - Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Drip does get jealous. He’s not jealous to the point of toxicity or manipulation of his partner, but more or less internalizing his jealousy until it festers to an unhealthy point within himself. He’s often afraid to vocalize his jealousy, because he doesn’t want to give the wrong message to his partner. He’d never keep them from going out, having friends, or having fun, but he is afraid that his partner will leave him for someone else, for someone better. That’s the anxiety he lives with.

K - Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Drip’s kisses are soft and sweet. He’s not one for roughness, and prefers gentle, slow, and erotic kisses. The type of kisses that leave his partner wanting more. He will kiss his partner anywhere they want, but he really loves to kiss them on their lips. He loves how soft they are and how they melt into his. He will also kiss them on the cheek as a greeting/goodbye, the forehead to say goodnight, and their hand out of pure adoration.

L - Little ones (How are they around children?)

Drip is the best person to have around children. He loves kids and definitely wants some little ones of his own. He wants to cradle them in his arms and read them bedtime stories, give them piggyback rides, and show them how to bake sweet desserts. He does have some insecurities about being a father, mainly that he will mess it up and that his kids won’t like him, but with the right partner to encourage him, he’ll do just fine.

M - Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Drip is not the biggest morning person, but he still gets up early because someone has to make breakfast. If he left it up to Tungst, the whole kitchen would be up in flames. He’s so used to making breakfast for his squad that at this point, it’s just second nature. There will be a lot of early morning kisses, and some spooning and cuddling before he gets up though. He’ll make his partner whatever they want for breakfast and make them a fresh cup of caf or tea for when they finally crawl out of bed and join him. 

N - Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Drip is usually exhausted by the evening, so he’s not big on late nights out at the club. He’d much rather make dinner, then curl up in bed with his partner, and read a book or watch an episode of whatever holo-series he and his partner are watching. Sometimes he’ll bake in the evening, and the whole room will be filled with the smell of cookies or pie, or some other sweet treat.

O - Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Drip is an open book, much to his own demise. He really will tell his partner anything they want to know, and he won’t spare any details. He kicks himself afterwards because he knows they could use it against him or to manipulate him if they wanted to, but he can’t help being honest. The only piece of information that he actively tries to avoid talking about is how he got the scar across his neck. It’s not something he likes to talk about. 

P - Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Drip is not easily angered. He is a peacemaker at heart and is not afraid of conflict-resolution. Whenever Tungst and Brett get into a fight, Drip is the one that intervenes and breaks it up. He brings sound reasoning into the squad’s most chaotic moments and he would bring that same energy into a relationship. He may get frustrated, but never angry to the point where he would raise his voice or get physical.

Q - Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

As attentive as Drip is, he can forget things. He is the type to take notes of important aspects about his partner and write them in a little journal. Some things he’ll remember over time, but other, more nuanced things, he may forget. He tries his best though, and he hopes his partner will continue dropping little reminders and hints for him, because he does pick up on those.

R - Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Drip’s favorite memory is the day he picked up his partner for their first date. He was a nervous wreck, but was dressed to the nines and armed with a bouquet of gorgeous flowers.

S - Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Drip is very protective. He may not like violence, but he will fight for his brothers, his family, or his partner. He wants everyone he loves to be safe, and he would do almost anything to keep them safe. He’s not overly protective to the point where he’s locking everyone up, but he will mention things that he deems unsafe and make a big deal out of them. He does it with his brothers all of the time, and it’s harmless. Although, it does tick his anxiety up when no one heeds his warnings. 

T - Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Drip would put in so much effort into a relationship. Date nights would be paramount and he will find time for them. He will add every important date to the calendar and make sure he has multiple reminders so that he never forgets. He also enjoys gift giving, so flowers, chocolates, jewelry, and whatever else his partner enjoys is on his gift list. Since Drip is dometic-coded, he will happily do as many every day tasks as he can, and if there is one that’s not on his list, all his partner has to do is mention it and he’s on it.

U - Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

While I wouldn’t call it a habit per se, Drip’s self-deprecating behavior is probably one of his worst traits. As wonderful as he is, he can find every little thing he considers wrong about himself. He has low self-esteem and sometimes needs to be reminded that there’s nothing wrong with him. He wishes he could be as confident as his brothers, but no matter how hard he tries, he can’t. He doesn’t hate himself, but he doesn’t like himself either.

V - Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Drip is in the middle of the road. While he doesn’t obsess over himself, like Tungst, he does stay attentive with his body. He keeps himself clean and orderly as well as he can. He uses shampoo and conditioner because his beautiful long curls don’t take care of themselves and he has a routine to keep them looking healthy. He also keeps up with his facial hair to make sure it always stays at the right length. 

W - Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

There would be a giant gaping hole in Drip’s heart without his partner. Again, back to the love hard or not at all, plus his raging insecurities. He would be distraught if his partner either left or was killed, practically inconsolable. 

X - Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Drip is a good swimmer and would make a great lifeguard! Perhaps that’s one of the reasons he likes baths so much, because he likes being submerged in water. It’s comforting to him, to be enveloped. It feels safe.

Y - Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Drip cannot stand dirty fingernails. It’s his biggest squick and it drives him absolutely batty, especially after a particularly dirty mission. Even with gloves on, the dirt still finds a way to get under his fingernails. He would bite them all off if he could, but he finds that gross as well, so he just makes sure to scrub them real good with a nail brush in the shower.

Z - Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

Drip likes to sleep on satin sheets with a satin pillowcase. It’s posh for a clone, but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t like the way the GAR standard sheets scratch against his skin or make his hair all frizzy. Chance gets him the satin sheets off the Kamino black market. Drip doesn’t ask how he does it, but he has his guesses, because Chance doesn’t just come back with a satin sheet set, but with a whole bunch of other black market items. Regardless of where his sheets come from, Drip is just happy to be nestled softly in them. 

🔥 Drip - NSFW Alphabet 🔥

[evangeline444]

4, 5, 10 and 16 for dhavi pls :3

4.something written on a statue dedicated to your OC

This codex entry is written with a reincarnation/Arlathan AU in mind, particularly one in which Dhaveira is the reincarnation of a High Priestess of Falon'din.

[A statue found in the ruins of an old Temple to Falon'Din. The statue, carved from white stone, depicts a young Elvhen women kneeling as if in prayer with tears streaming down her cheeks and a skull cradled in the palms of her hand. Her hair is adorned with beads and flowers. It looks as if some of the carved jewelry used to have gems embedded into the stone, but it has long since been ransacked by thieves. There are faded remnants of red paint decorating her face and most of her body, depicting Falon Din's vallaslin. The plaque beneath it is faded and difficult to read, telling an old Dalish tale of a young and beloved priestess of Falon'din who suffered at the hands of a champion of Elgar'nan who sought revenge for Falon'dins transgressions against the Evanuris.]

The Crimson Knight was both cunning and cruel--he sought out Falon'din's most beloved priestess whilst she was alone in her temple, uncaring that the god could very well discover his transgression. He wanted the great Deathwalker to know what he had done. And so he claimed his prize upon the floor of the temple, the blood of another priestess still dripping from his blade. [The rest of the plaque is cracked and faded, impossible to read, though many Dalish know this tale by heart.]

5.a note/letter found in your OC’s pocket

[A long list of names written in small handwriting, some names are crossed out while others remain untouched. A few have notes beside them, indicating that bodies have not yet been found among the destruction of Haven.]

10. something written by one of the advisors about your OC

[A note from Commander Cullen]

On the matter of Dhaveira Alahannon;

As directed, I have pulled back the agents I had keeping an eye on her, though I have trouble seeing the wisdom in this decision. She is, as all mages are, a danger to both herself and to others should she lose control. Though she may not be a blood mage, I see little difference in the strange magic she wields.

I will however admit that she has proven to be a great ally to the Inquisition. Many were lost in Haven and despite my reservations about her magic, we would not have been able to recover many bodies and pay respects to our dead had she not guided us.

16.something written to your OC by an older member of their family

[A letter written in Elvhen found in the Skyhold gardens near Dhaveira.]

Da'olo (little owl),

Your brother tells me your nightmares have worsened since the breach opened, he worries that the proximity to them when your travel is worsening the effect the dead seem to have on you. It reminds me of when your nightmares first came to pass. You were so young then, so tiny and frail, I worried that you would blow away with just one strong wind. I remember holding you in my arms as you cried, telling me of things you were too young to yet understand. I remember being barely old enough to understand myself, whispering old Dalish stories into your hair in the hopes that it would soothe you.

Perhaps I shall have to make my way to the Inquisition to join you. I am sure they have need of a few blacksmiths and I would gladly offer my assistance if it meant I could be there to help soothe your nightmares.

I pray that the Creators watch over you until I can find my way to you.

-Iloren