@softlunargaze - Tumblr Blog

❨ mar ! they / them ; twenty-three

side blog / a fanfic tbr for @.angclhood ᢉ𐭩

⭑.ᐟ BIGGEST FAN ── Clark Kent

summary: it’s the premiere for your debut movie. clark is there to support you from the sidelines. or, when clark kent almost reveals his true identity in a flash of protective induced anger when the paparazzi become aggressive with you. (wc: 4.5k)

pairing: clark kent / f!reader

content: established relationship. fluff. actress!reader. protective!clark. typical red carpet fiasco with the paparazzi. r wears a dress for the premiere—inspo is zendaya’s newest look—but no physical descriptions. 18+ smut (m. receiving, semi-public blowjob? mild exhibitionism and praise.) (1) swear word from clark.

moonstruckme

hi Mae!! I just have to say I loved the peter aftercare oneshot sooo much! I swear you are like the queen of soft smut, which sounds so hilarious but it really is true! you just absolutely have mastered writing things that are so comfy while still being equally so steamy that I'm just always melting into a puddle.

anyways I have a request (if you like it) for peter, specifically roommate peter and reader where one of them is getting up in the middle of the night to go to their kitchen for water, or because they can't sleep, or had a dream, and the other is already there. maybe there's been some previous tension between them or something or other, and things get smuttyyy in the kitchen, what do we think!

Thanks so much, angel!

cw: pg-13 smut (mdni please)

roommate!peter parker x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

Peter appears in the kitchen like a mirage. Damp hair, a loose sweatshirt, silent footsteps that falter when he finds you leaning against the counter with your glass of water. His eyebrows go up.

"Uh, hey."

"Hi," you say back, startled too and lightly mortified to have come across Peter in the apartment you share with him. "Did you just shower?"

"Yeah." Peter reaches past you, and the kitchen is illuminated for a moment in white light from the fridge. He grabs a takeout container. "Yeah, I went for a run, so."

You wrinkle your nose, as much at the idea of running as doing it at two in the morning. You didn't even hear him leave.

Peter grins at your face. "Are you just standing here in the dark?" he teases.

mcybank

Busy Woman ! — Jack Abbot

pairing — jack abbot x fem!reader

summary — jack has seen you leave a trail of broken hearts and bad dates, and he’s determined to prove to you that you’re looking for love in all the wrong places.

warnings — 12.6k words. age gap (jack’s around 50; reader’s a 4th year resident, so 20s), attending/resident power dynamic; mentor/mentee relationship, idiots in love maybe?? yearning!jack, jealous!jack, jack ‘i’ll pay for it’ abbot strikes Again!!!! hurt + comfort (one instance of jack being an ass, but he smooths it over during the same shift - they can’t stay mad at each other), mild angst, patient death, jack’s leg - reader helps him adjust the prosthetic and takes care of him during a long shift, canon-typical medical scenes and probably lots of inaccuracies (i’m an english major reddit is my best friend) ; on-page patient death, reader performing compressions, reader DATES DATES and may be unprofessional (affectionately she just wants to find love and her entire life revolves around the hospital who can blame her), reader’s written to have hair she brushes and can pin up, she also gets on her toes to kiss him but that can be ignored i just liked the image jack basically bribes her into a date, no smut but they’re So very much thinking about it, rushed-ish ending i think?

notes — wrote this in a slump it took so Unbelievably long and i’m not even sure i like it but i wanted to post something before i give up on writing anything ever again!!!!

It was midnight and a peds nurse was lingering by the ambulance doors, and Jack knew that he wasn’t meant to be there. Lewis was his name, maybe, but Jack couldn’t even be sure of that — and knew he had no reason to be sure of it, because the guy wasn’t meant to be there. Running the ER in the middle of the night, with all of the day’s patients handed off, and the night’s still finding their way through triage, was difficult in itself, and he didn’t have the energy to also babysit Ryan-or-Lewis-or-whoever hovering there like a little boy waiting to be picked up from school.

“Is he meant to be here?” Jack asked, closing the space toward the desk where Lena was pointing something, jutting his thumb in the direction of the guy.

Lena flattened a printout on the desk with two fingers, hardly sparing him a glance.

“Him. Peds. Why is he there?” he tried again.

“Couldn’t tell you,” she said, but the corner of her mouth had flicked up, proving that she was simply choosing not to tell him.

“He’s off his unit,” he said. He knew he sounded just slightly silly stating the obvious.

“Seems so.”

“Send him back, then,” Jack drawled, incredulous, hands finding his hips. “There’s enough shit going on here.”

“You send him back,” she retorted, amused just slightly. “If you’re so concerned.”

honeypiehotchner

i've got it -- jack abbot x fem!reader

Jack said "i'll pay for it" and i blacked out. here's this. (the gif is def brett richards but ignore that!)

Summary: A short trip to the ER one night spirals into an unlikely accidental sugar daddy relationship with a certain night shift attending that you never expected.

Warnings: SMUT mdni 18+ only!!, medical innaccuracies (never been to the ER for a mild allergic reaction so just <3 look past any mistakes), slight miscommunication trope, jack is WHIPPED from day 1, sugar daddy jack yes god, lots of complicated feelings abt money, reader is trying her damnest to still be independent, so much fluff, robby has his whimsy back in this, jack is trying his hardest to be Normal abt you (he is failing), oral f!recieving, fingering, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (and the crowd...cheers? wear a condom!)

WC: 16.5k (I SAID I BLACKED OUT)

The last place you expect to end up on your birthday is PTMC’s ER and yet, that’s exactly where you sit.

risaablr

ABIENCE ⋆⭒˚.⋆ — rhysand

(n.) the strong urge to avoid someone or something

soft!dark!rhysand x fem!highfae!reader

You have spent your entire life knowing that one day, you might belong to Rhysand.

cw: mdni, dark(ish) themes, possessive/obsessive behaviour, big fat power imbalance, arranged marriage kinda trope, reader is terrified of rhys, feyre and him aren't mates in this story, problematic themes overall

a/n: writing rhys is so fun

You had been promised to Rhysand long before you understood what marriage even meant.

It was one of those facts that simply existed. Like the Sidra. Like starlight. Like the mountains surrounding Velaris.

Something decided by adults in rooms you were never permitted to enter and discussed over wine while children played elsewhere.

Your father had been one of the Night Court's most trusted courtiers. One of the few males Rhysand's father had genuinely respected.

The agreement had been reached when you were barely old enough to speak in complete sentences.

If Rhysand did not find his mate by the time you came of age, if fate did not intervene with its unpredictable hand, then you would marry.

It wasn't uncommon. It was the sort of arrangement noble families made every day.

Only there was one small problem.

You were completely and utterly terrified of Rhysand.

The first time you remembered meeting him, you had been perhaps sixteen, young enough to still hide behind your father whenever unfamiliar people addressed you.

Rhysand had already been well over a century old. Already taller than most males in the room. Already powerful enough that people unconsciously moved aside when he entered. Already carrying himself like someone destined to rule.

You remembered peeking around your father's shoulder, and seeing violet eyes settle on you.

Gods.

You had nearly died, not literally. But your heart had certainly attempted to flee your body.

Rhysand had smiled at you, a slow curve of his lips that was equal parts amusement and something else entirely, something you were far too young and far too sheltered to identify. And you had immediately hidden again.

The sound of his laughter had followed you all evening.

From that moment onward, you had spent most of your life avoiding him at all cost.

When he returned from training in the Illyrian mountains, you disappeared. When he attended court functions, you developed sudden illnesses. When your father informed you that Rhysand wished to spend time with you, you found increasingly ridiculous excuses.

Once, you had claimed you needed to reorganize your books, all three hundred of them, alphabetically, by color, and then by height. Another time, you insisted that a particular flowerpot in the garden required your immediate and undivided attention, as it had been looking "rather sad" lately.

Your father had nearly laughed himself sick.

Rhysand, unfortunately, had only smiled.

"You know," he'd said conversationally while watching you attempt to disappear behind a particularly decorative shrub, "I'm beginning to think she's avoiding me."

You had nearly tripped over your own feet.

Your father had sighed into his wine. "You frighten her."

Rhysand's gaze had remained exactly where you stood frozen.

"I know."

Nothing more, just that quiet, god-forsaken certainty he'd always possessed.

It only made everything worse.

He never chased you. Never cornered you. Never insisted you stay. He simply watched you flee with the endless patience of someone entirely unconcerned by the distance between you.

Like he had all the time in the world. Perhaps he did.

You certainly didn't. You couldn't help it.

He was overwhelming, even then. Before becoming High Lord. Before the reputation of being the most powerful male in Prythian.

He had possessed a presence unlike anyone else.

And whenever those impossible violet eyes settled on you, it felt as though he saw entirely too much.

So you hid. And he watched. Patiently, always patiently, because he had never been anything else when it came to you.

Years passed. Then decades. Then centuries.

Your father died. Soon after the tragedy that took both his sister and mother, Rhysand's father followed.

And suddenly the terrifying heir became High Lord.

The entire Night Court shifted beneath his command. Cassian became General. Azriel became Spymaster. Amren became his second-in-command. Mor his third-in-command.

The Inner Circle slowly took shape around him. They were warriors, leaders, survivors, bound together by blood, battle, and an unshakeable devotion to their High Lord. They had fought in wars long before you were born, had bled and killed and nearly died for the court they loved.

And somehow, there was you.

You had no idea what your place among them was supposed to be. You couldn't fight, couldn't spy, couldn't command armies. Had never even stepped foot on a battlefield. While they carried centuries of scars, your life had remained sheltered, peaceful and safe. You often felt like an accidental addition to a group you had no business belonging to.

Still, when Rhysand informed you that you too would be moving into the Town House, you weren't exactly surprised.

But disappointed. Hopeful, perhaps, because some foolish part of you had whispered that maybe, just maybe, the arrangement would die alongside your fathers. That Rhysand would become too busy, too occupied ruling an entire court, too distracted by the weight of his new responsibilities to remember an agreement made centuries ago.

You had been wrong.

Instead, your belongings were packed. Your room prepared. Before you knew it, you found yourself living beneath the same roof as the most powerful male in Prythian.

And your future remained exactly where it had always been; tied to Rhysand. The subject unspoken of, but always present. Neither of you discussed it. You certainly weren't brave enough to. And Rhysand…Rhysand never seemed interested in forcing the conversation.

Which, somehow, was even more unnerving. It was as though he had already decided the ending and was merely waiting for the story to catch up to his expectations.

You spent years navigating around him, around all of them. Growing closer to the Inner Circle while never quite feeling like one of them.

Mor dragged you shopping until your feet ached and your stomach hurt from laughing. Cassian annoyed you relentlessly and somehow made you feel more like a younger sister than an outsider. Azriel appeared silently whenever you needed help. Even Amren grew strangely fond of you, though she would sooner drink spoiled blood than admit it aloud.

You loved them, truly.

But there was always a distance, an invisible line. Because they belonged to one another in a way you never quite did.

Then Amarantha came. And when Rhysand was trapped Under the Mountain, the world changed in ways you couldn't fully comprehend.

For fifty years he was gone.

The strangest thing about those years was discovering how much space he'd occupied in your life.

Because suddenly he wasn't there. No deep laughter drifting through the Town House late at night. No familiar feeling of awareness prickling over your skin whenever he happened to look your way.

Nothing.

And somehow his absence felt larger than his presence had.

You hated admitting that. Especially to yourself.

You had expected to feel relief. Instead, you found yourself pausing whenever anyone mentioned Under the Mountain. Listening a little too carefully whenever the others talked of Amarantha.

Sometimes, standing on the balcony of the Town House long after everyone else had gone to sleep, you caught yourself staring toward the horizon, wondering whether someone like Rhysand could truly be broken.

Whether anything in the world was capable of dimming a force that had always seemed…inevitable.

The answer, it seemed, was yes. Though not entirely.

During those decades, life continued in Velaris. It had to. The city endured, and the Inner Circle protected Velaris with fierce determination, ensuring that Amarantha's corruption never touched the hidden sanctuary Rhysand had so carefully build.

The Town House remained full. Just…quieter. Even Cassian laughed a little less.

For the first time in your life, the future felt strangely unwritten. There was no Rhysand quietly existing at the edge of every decision, no overwhelming presence unconsciously shaping the rhythm of your days.

And somewhere during those fifty years, you began building something that belonged solely to you.

Your own friends. Your own routines. Your own apartment.

The apartment had been a battle. Not a dramatic one. There hadn't been any shouting or arguments. Just subtle resistance, the kind Rhysand's family excelled at, the kind that wore you down through sheer persistence, until surrender seemed easier than insisting otherwise.

Cassian had argued that you would be safer at the Town House, that being alone made you vulnerable. Mor had worried that you would become isolated. Azriel had said nothing, but you had felt the weight of his disapproving silence like a physical presence.

Amren, surprisingly, was the one who sided with you. "Let her go," she had said, her voice flat and disinterested. "She's not a child. If she wants to live alone, she should be allowed to."

Eventually, they relented.

You got your apartment. Under the compromise that you would stay at the Town House at least twice a week, a promise you gradually became worse and worse at keeping.

Because your apartment represented freedom. Limited freedom, certainly, but freedom nonetheless. It was a space that belonged entirely to you, filled with books you had chosen, plants you liked and paintings you had admired.

You built a life entirely separate from Rhysand. Or as separate as it could truly be.

Cassian still dropped by unexpectedly under increasingly transparent excuses. Azriel's shadows somehow always seemed to know when you walked home alone. Mor continued dragging you to Rita's whenever she decided you'd spent too many evenings hiding with a book.

You loved them for it. Even if it occasionally felt suspiciously coordinated.

Sometimes at Rita's, you watched Mor flirt openly with strangers. Watched her laugh, choose whichever male caught her interest that evening, and leave with him without a backward glance. Watched her return the following day like nothing had happened, no explanations required, no apologies offered.

You wondered what that kind of freedom felt like.

What it might be like to someday find your person. Not a future husband selected by men long gone. Not something arranged through politics. Not the High Lord.

Someone yours. Someone who chose you. Someone you chose back.

You held onto that dream stubbornly.

Even when Cassian scared away half the males who approached you. Even when Azriel's learned the identities of every male who expressed interest.

Even when part of you suspected Rhysand would never truly allow another male near you. Not even from beneath a mountain.

You still hoped.

Because fifty years was a very long time. Long enough, you told yourself, for promises to fade. Long enough for old arrangements to lose their meaning.

Long enough to believe that perhaps, when Rhysand finally returned—if he returned—everything would be different.

Then fifty years ended. And the world changed. Without your knowledge, without your permission, without warning.

You were finishing dinner with your friends when Rhysand returned, a mundane moment interrupted by the sudden, inexplicable certainty that something had shifted in the Night Court.

You felt something deep beneath your ribs tighten so suddenly it stole the air from your lungs, though you could not have named it then as anything more than unease, a strange, inexplicable wrongness threading through your thoughts like a hand brushing over the back of your neck.

Rhysand had returned.

The entire Inner Circle was gathered at the Town House when it happened.

Everyone, except you.

You wouldn't learn exactly how furious he had been until later, how he had appeared in the Town House, exhausted and damaged and barely holding himself together. How he had embraced his family, his warriors, his closest confidants. How he had looked around the room, noting each familiar face, his expression growing darker with every moment that passed. How he asked one question.

"Where is she?"

No one dared to answer.

You were not there.

Which, to Rhysand, became the only answer that mattered.

You would not learn later how still he had gone after that moment. How every trace of relief, every fragment of survival, every hard-earned breath Under the Mountain had been set aside like something irrelevant.

How he had simply asked again, calmer, slower this time.

"Where?"

And how no one had been able to answer him immediately because the implication of what it meant to return without you in sight had not yet settled properly into words.

By the time you unlocked your apartment door later that evening, your hand was trembling. You noticed it, and frowned faintly at yourself, blamed the long day, the wine you'd shared over dinner, anything except the truth your body was already beginning to understand.

He was already waiting, seated in your chair, legs crossed elegantly. Surrounded by shadows and looking impossibly beautiful, impossibly dangerous, and impossibly alive.

And when he looked at you, you stopped breathing entirely.

For a moment you couldn't move, couldn't speak, couldn't do anything but stare at the male you had been running from your entire life.

You had imagined this reunion a thousand times. None of those fantasies involved him being angry.

His gaze was already fixed on you, dark and intense and burning with something you couldn't quite identify. Something that made your skin prickle with awareness, your heart pound in your chest, your knees threaten to give out beneath you.

"You weren't home," was the first thing he said.

Home. You weren't sure if the Town House had ever truly felt like home.

"I…" Your voice came out embarrassingly small. "N-No."

You could see the muscle in his cheek twitch, the way something in him tightened at the sound of your voice. His gaze moved over you then, reassuring himself that you were real. That you were unharmed. That after fifty years, he had finally made it back to you.

Then the bond snapped. And the world exploded.

Mate

The word echoed through every part of you.

Mate Mate Mate

You had imagined the mating bond before. Dreamed of it, even. Wondered what it might feel like to experience that cosmic connection, that magical recognition, that perfect union of two souls meant for each other. You had imagined warmth and certainty and joy.

Not this.

Not your entire soul lurching forward as if recognizing something it had spent centuries searching for. Not your knees nearly giving out. Not your heart breaking and healing simultaneously.

Across the room, Rhysand had frozen. For the first time in your life, you saw him stripped utterly bare. Shock, wide and unguarded flashed across his face. Relief so profound it nearly stole your breath.

Then something else crept into his expression. Something infinitely more possessive. Something that made your blood run cold. The expression terrified you. Because suddenly every fear you'd ever carried became real.

You had wanted a mate. You had dreamed of one.

But not like this. Not someone who already had a claim on your future. Not someone powerful enough to remove every alternative.

Tears burned your eyes, and you stumbled backward.

His face immediately changed. Something wary entered his expression. Like he recognized exactly what was happening inside your head.

You hated that. Hated that he knew you so well.

And when he took a step toward you, you ran. Actually ran. One heartbeat he stood across the room. The next you were lunging for the front door. Not because you thought you could outrun him.

Because prey ran. It was instinct. Pure, thoughtless instinct.

You barely reached the door, before a solid body blocked your path. You slammed directly into his hard chest.

A startled noise escaped you as his strong hands closed around your waist, steadying you before you could fall. Your palms landed flat against his chest. The entire thing happened so quickly your mind struggled to process it.

For one awful second, all you could think was that if he'd wanted to, he could have caught you before you'd even taken the first step.

"Mm," he murmured quietly above you, almost to himself. "So that's how we're starting?"

Your heart stopped. Then immediately started trying to beat its way out of your chest.

His voice was not raised, not sharp, not even angry. Nothing about this situation had surprised him at all. As though he had already seen every possible version of this moment and chosen the one where you were in his arms anyway.

His hands remained around your waist, not tightening, not pulling, only there, steadying you. It somehow felt far more intimate than if he'd held you tightly.

You throat bobbed.

His eyes followed the movement instantly.

The invisible thread seemed to hum, warmer now, heavier, like it was settling into place with growing certainty that made your chest tighten painfully.

Slowly, deliberately, he loosened his grip.

You immediately stepped backward.

Rhys let you. He simply released you enough that you could move, though the space between you did not truly feel like space at all, because he followed the motion with nothing more than a subtle shift of his body, as though he had already accounted for exactly how far you might go.

As though he had already measured every possible escape you might attempt.

"I need you to breathe." The words were impossibly gentle.

You hated how your body obeyed. Air filled your lungs in one shaky inhale. His shoulders eased. Just slightly. As though your breathing had been affecting him too.

"You don't have to run," he said. His voice was quieter now, more careful.

You looked at him, really looked.

At the tension beneath that impossible composure. At the tremor in the fingers hanging motionless beside his thighs. At the way his chest expanded a fraction too deeply before every sentence. Like speaking calmly required conscious effort. Like there was something inside him straining so violently against its leash that even breathing had become work.

"Would you let me reject the bond?" The question slipped out before you could stop it.

The answer arrived instantly. Not through words. Through his expression, through the absolute steel in his eyes.

No. No, he wouldn't.

Your heart sank.

Rhysand's gaze dropped for half a heartbeat. Not to your face or your hands. But to you. Like he was seeing you in a way he had never allowed himself before.

"I need you to listen to me," he spoke, his voice even lower than before. Somehow that made it infinitely more dangerous.

"I know this isn't what you wanted." He paused, "I know. And I know you're frightened."

Something had slipped through his control like a breath he hadn't meant to let out.

"But I have waited for you for a very long time."

The words landed too softly. Because nothing about the way he was looking at you matched softness at all. His gaze held yours, unblinking and steady. Patient in a way that made your skin crawl.

"As for what happens next," he murmured quietly, a faint shift in his stance barely perceptible, "you are going to hate me for a while."

A beat passed.

"And I will still be here."

Still, he did not move closer, did not touch you. Your gaze landed briefly to the front door. To the impossible distance between it and you. To the male standing in the way. You knew for a fact, that if he decided you weren't leaving, the door might as well not have existed.

As if he'd read your thoughts, Rhys followed your gaze, and one corner of his mouth twitched. It wasn't amusement, not quite. Something rougher, something honest.

"That," he said, "is a different conversation."

That expression returned. The one that made him seem less like a High Lord and more like a male who had been starving for far too long.

Then, just as quickly, control slammed back into place. His throat bobbed. A swallow. A very mortal gesture.

And somehow that affected you more than anything else.

You forced your shoulders to relax. It didn't work.

The connection stretched taut.

Your weight shifted forward without you meaning it to, just slightly. A fraction of movement, the kind your body made when something inside you leaned before thought could stop it. Toward him.

It was not even conscious. Not a decision rationally made. Just the bond, pulling like gravity disguised as instinct.

And yet the effect on him was immediate. Rhysand went utterly still. Like the world had narrowed to that single, almost imperceptible motion. His breath changed. A sharp inhale that he did not fully complete. His hands flexed once, slowly. Like he was physically stopping himself from doing something he had already begun to prepare for.

"Don't," he said, the word quiet.

But it was not directed at you. It seemed to be directed inward, at himself.

You froze, heart suddenly too loud.

"I didn't—" you started, confused, because you hadn't meant to move at all.

"I know," he interrupted gently. Rhysand took a deep breath. "But I am asking you to be careful anyway."

You frowned. "I don't understand."

"No." A faint smile ghosted across his mouth. "I don't suppose you do."

The restraint was suddenly louder than anything else in the room.

Rhysand exhaled slowly. His shoulders lowered by a fraction, like he was forcing himself back into himself. Back into control. Back into the version of him you had always known.

But now you had seen the crack. And cracks did not disappear once you noticed them. They only became harder to unsee.

"You are going to make this difficult," he sighed quietly. It almost sounded like amusement, almost.

But underneath it, there was something else. Something that made you want to clench your thighs together.

And then, softer again, "I already know I won’t mind."

alinathinkstoomuch

it's a little bit messy | jack abbot

jack abbot x younger!reader ⋆˚꩜｡ 18+ MDNI !

summary: abbot’s hand should’ve never ended up between your thighs—because now you’re both trying to pretend it meant nothing, and neither of you is getting very far. [can be read as a standalone, but it's a loose pt 2 of this fic]

warnings: smut! car sex, panties being ripped, abbot yearns to the point of concern because he's down BAD for reader, reader cheats at beer pong & UNO because she can, a lil bit of angst but they fuck nasty so it's ok! thumb sucking, a lil bit of drooling, BITING, age gap implied, bad decisions being made, creampie (dont be like them), sexual tension, reader can't decide what she wants so abbot natrually fucks the decision into her ᝰ.ᐟ

wc: 7.9k

Abbot was certain you were avoiding him. It was the only explanation that made any kind of sense. It’d be impressive if it weren’t so annoying, the way you kept managing to be somewhere else the second he came into view. Turning corners like you’d just remembered something urgent, suddenly very invested in literally any patient that wasn’t his.

bluetimeombre

I love you, I love you, I love you

synopsis Robby is known to speak before he thinks sometimes, but when the cost of his words is losing you, he’d rather die (6.6k words)

warningheavy angst, language, hospital stuff, mention of drowning, near death experience, robby is constipated emotionally as always, jack to the rescue, kinda yearning Jack if you squint, inaccurate medical practices I am noooo doctor!

authornotethannk you so much for the request!!! and thank you for your kind words! I had so much fun writing, I think angst is probably my favourite to write over anything especially when Robby is the one yearning. I hope you liked! (Gif credits @emziess :)

Pitt masterlist Last robby fic!

As a resident in the Emergency Department there was a lot you knew.

You knew that preeclampsia effected about eight percent of all pregnant women worldwide. You knew how to intubate and had in fact done so many in your time at PTMC that you were sure you could do it with your eyes closed. You knew that in the bottom draw of Dana's select spot at the nurses station was a pack of nicotine gum hardly used because Dana thought they were a bunch of bull; in spite of the literal doctors orders.

You knew there was a leaky faucet in the women's bathrooms that drove everyone insane when they went in there to steal a moment's peace. You knew the computer in central fourteen was the faultiest one which was why you avoided charting in there all together.

So you knew there must have been a reason why Noelle from insurance was biding her time with your new boyfriend. There must have been a reason why he was grinning big at her like he hadn't with you for days.

finco99

There is probably something REALLY wrong with me cuz tell me why I was smiling ear to ear after experiencing this hollowing-out kinda angst???

Truly so fkn beautiful 🤌🩷

domesticblisss

safe from heartbreak (if you never fall in love)

pairing – dr. michael robinavitch x florist!fem reader

rating – mature. minors dni

wc – 13.5k

moodboard | fic playlist

summary – after several heartbreaks and failed dates, you promised yourself you wouldn’t try and fall in love again. but a certain doctor that you have known for years, who visits you every eight weeks to buy flowers for his dates wants to prove you he is worth it, even with his questionable dating history.

warnings – romcom vibes, lots of fluffy and angst. no smut but sexual innuendos and sexual tension. age gap (reader in her thirties, robby in his early fifties), idiots in love and flirting galore. robby’s sabbatical. feelings of being unworthy and all of what comes with that, insecurity, jealousy, talks about about grief, suicide and suicide ideation, psychiatric hold and therapy. noelle is a bit bitchy but she only has her best intentions at heart.

she/her pronouns and afab!reader. reader is described to have some softness on her stomach, but other than that no specific descriptions of body type, race or ethnicity. all lowercase for styling purposes.

a/n – heyyy! all i can say is fucking finally. this took me three weeks to write after falling victim of a horrible writer’s block. you know this kicked my ass because i made a moodboard and playlist for it. also, me, writing something without smut? it’s more likely than you think! i’m a horny whore but i’m a romantic one. on a serious note though, i wanted to write something cute and sweet for once.

hope you enjoy it and thank you for reading 🤎

dividers by @/uzmacchiato and @/strangergraphics

petal & bloom sits on the corner of smallman and 25th.

a quaint little flower shop that survived the passage of time. it has been there since 1971, the year your grandmother left her first husband, fleeing a rather toxic relationship with nothing but a few thousand bucks she saved over the years and your – at the time, five year old – mother by her side. the shop was passed down by generations, always being run by the women of the family, who occasionally would make their partners work on their days off with them.

bluetimeombre

Ladybug !

synopsis hi fell in love with your portrayal of dr. robby is it okay for me to request for dr. robby’s attending! wife and the early signs of pregnancy before she decided to take a test? (like falling asleep while doing charts or over a casual conversation hehe) request!

warningsTW vomit, usual hospital-ness. language, smutish, pregnancy and baby talk stuff

authornote this was a request that I loved writing so much but nobody needs to know the work that went into publishing it, that stays between me and @expreissionism who requested, thanks so much again!

My Pitt masterlist. Other Robby fic!

Robby left exam room four and- like always- he found you first.

He smiled. The kind that took over his whole face, that crinkled his eyes and caused his cheeks to hurt. The sort people didn't see often in the deep hells of the Pitt unless he was looking at you. Or talking about you. Or thinking about you. Basically, if he smiled like that it was you.

But his smile faded quick when he took note of you.

“Hey?”

rockylandphm

beaker down — ryland grace x reader ; established relationship and suggestive in the end (1.2k words)

you accidentally break a beaker while helping ryland out with an experiment. you’re worried about the beaker, he’s worried about you

You love the times when Ryland lets you help with his experiments.

He labels it quality time with you, introducing you into the world that he loves when it’s lower risk and has low probabilities of you getting accidentally hurt. You love it too, because your world has always been tangled in things opposite to science.

“Sweetheart, could you grab the beaker for me? The… uh…” Ryland asks, motioning vaguely that it was somewhere in the kitchen, all without looking up from his work. “You know which one.”

You perk up immediately at his instructions, already racing to grab whatever he needs.

He’s particularly cute like this.

Completely absorbed in what he’s doing with his eyes fixed on a few liquids you can’t name, and his eyebrows furrowed exactly how they do when he’s concentrated. It’s also, admittedly, incredibly hot.

h4rring1on

𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘺

summary: you love being around eddie 24/7 but things start to stop being like that once eddie’s friends started being annoyed because of it

warnings: light swearing, hellfire being assholes, if there’s anything else please tell me !!

pairing: eddie munson x reader

QUICK A/N: IDK HOW D&D WORKS SO IF I SAID SOMETHING WRONG I SINCERELY APOLOGIZE !!!

ೃ༄*ੈ✩

you and eddie loved each other with your entire souls, you loved being around each other all the time.

you, personally, loved that you were always around him. but it never occurred to you that eddie might think otherwise.

you were sat on eddie’s lap, wearing his hellfire shirt as him and the rest of hellfire played their d&d game. you were never fond of the game or really knew how to play it.

but eddie was your boyfriend and you loved being around him, so if he was around, you were around.

eddie hit once again, he cheered as he wrapped his hands around your waist and gave you a kiss

eddie needed to go to the bathroom, so he got up and told you stay in his seat while he went. once he disappeared, the entire club glared at you.

if looks could kill, you’d be long dead by now.

your smile faded as you noticed

“why is she even here again?” mike asked

“mike” dustin warned

“no, he’s right. i wouldn’t want my girlfriend to be around all the fucking time. it’s really annoying. i would’ve broken up by now” gareth said

“you really think so?” your voice squeaked out, feeling intimated by the amount of guys talking about you, not to mention it wasn’t exactly a good conversation to hear

dustin repeatedly shook his head, “what? of course not! eddie loves you! right guys?” dustin said but everyone was quiet, “right guys?” his voice was louder now

“right—right” mike said, “i’m just saying…i love my girlfriend too but it’s still annoying—“

“mike—“

“n—no, he’s right” you cut dustin off, dustin’s eyes widened, “i’m sorry…i didn’t mean to burden you guys—i’ll leave” you said, getting up

the club all began to protest, knowing eddie would kill them if he found out

you ignored their protests and left.

for the next couple of days, you haven’t talked to eddie. sometimes, he’d walk by you and give you a kiss, but you’d always just make up an excuse to leave

truth is, you were scared he was gonna leave you just like gareth said, so you chose to stay away, so he can finally be free without you.

even at lunch, you stopped showing up and just hid in the woods nearby. today, you grabbed your food and left the school

“hey” eddie said from behind, you paused in your place for a second before walking at a faster pace, “hey!”

you tried to quickly get to the woods, once you did, you thought he was gone until you felt a hand grip your wrist, not too tight, but enough to make you stay.

“okay what’s going on” he said

“what?” you turned to him

“what? that’s all you have to say? what? you know what.” he said, his tone sounding frustrated

“i don’t—“

“did i do something?” he asked, “because if i did just tell me and i’ll make it up to you, i promise”

“eddie no” you shook your head

“then what is it” he said

“what is what—“

“for fucks sake!” he yelled, “you’ve been ignoring me for the past week, please—tell me what i did—“

“eddie” you cut in, “you didn’t do anything” you reassured, “i just—remember that day, during the game”

“the one where you left suddenly?” he said

“y—yeah…” you stuttered, feeling guilty, “when you went to the bathroom—i just, some of the boys got into my head” you muttered

his expression softened, “about what?”

“about you” you sighed, “they said it was annoying that i was there all the time—and if i was their girlfriend they’d leave me—and i realized just how right they were…i’m sorry i’m so clingy”

“baby what?” he said, holding your hand, “you could never be clingy!” he reassured, “these past few days were hell, i needed you. i needed you all the time, i needed you there with me all day. i needed to smell you, to kiss you, to hold you, to touch you—to just—you. i needed you”

“really?” you asked

“of course!” he said, “now cm’ere” he pulled you closer to him and hugged your tightly while repeatedly kissing you on your forehead

“eddie” you giggled

“what! i need to make-up for everytime i wasn’t able to do that!” he said, making you giggle even more

eddie loved you, and he loved having you by his side all the time. as for hellfire, god knows if you didn’t stop him, he wouldn’t have shown those little shits mercy.

ptersparkers

crush (peter parker)

summary: peter has been visiting you as spider-man long enough to develop a crush on you. the problem? you have a crush on somebody else.

notes: u guys…i love peter parker so much okay!!! also this is a short fic bc i have a longer one in the works. yes i realize this is 4k words but like, that’s short for me ok bye happy reading!

warnings: typos, probably.

Peter Parker sat on the ledge of your fire escape, careful to avoid the patches of snow from the previous day. It had been a long night of patrolling and his lower back ached to no end. The familiar space spread warmth to Peter’s chest as he attempted to collect his breath, the inside of his suit scratching against his skin.

It had been dark out for a few hours. Peter knew that May would be going to sleep in an hour, leaving the perfect opportunity for him to slip back into his bedroom undetected. He had lied to her earlier, saying that he’d be studying with a group of friends he had made at university earlier that semester. But he had other places he needed to be.

He would be lying if he said his only reason for patrolling was to keep his city out of danger. While that was a big motivation for him to put his suit on, the other reason was because he wanted to see you.

caramelcal

attention

summary: you and peter have already admitted your feelings for each other, but aren’t in a committed relationship yet so when you see another girl getting close with him, you can’t help but be a bit jealous and insecure.

ship: tasm!peter parker x reader

word count: 2.7k

a/n: right well. i’ve been away for six months but i’m back now :) send requests plss. not my pick up line, i got it off google. i can do better.

masterlist

“Hey girl, are you my appendix? Because I don’t know how you work, but this feeling in my stomach makes me wanna take you out,” Someone appeared behind you with a smirk, laughing at his dumb pick-up line that he said in a weird accent.

“Good morning to you too, Parker,” You smile at the boy as he started to walk alongside you, just as he did every morning on the way to school.

Yet, instead of greeting you with a ‘good morning’ as any other normal person would do, he said another pick-up line, murmuring it in your ear just to annoy you, “How about we play the titanic? You can be the iceberg and I can go down.”

caramelcal

missed calls

request: Hey! I love your tasm!peter Parker x reader “attention”! I was wondering if I could request something of the same bases just a bit more angsty with like a big fight where Peter says something he doesn’t mean? If you can’t that’s ok! Thank you

ship: tasm!peter parker x reader

warnings: swearing, fighting, mentions of cheating, mention of uncle ben’s death

word count: 3.3k

a/n: i had absolutely no idea how to end this so sorry if the ending seems iffy lovelies :) requests are open!!

PART TWO

“Peter, hurry up and pick up,” You murmured to yourself, eyes casting over the crowd of people scurrying around and laughing with their friends.

The bright lights from the carnival shined down on you as you stood there awkwardly, trying to get a hold of Peter on the phone. You guys had been planning this date for a while, and it wasn’t like him to just blow you off. He was always so excited to be with you, no matter where you guys were or what you were doing.

People laughed around you, and you were becoming very conscious that they were judging you for being alone. What if they thought you didn’t have any friends? What if they thought no one wanted to hang out with you?

Peter’s voicemail rung through your ears one more time, causing you to suck in a breath again, taking the phone away from your ear.

“Come on Peter,” You whispered to yourself as you started to search up to see if there had been any witnessed Spiderman fights. Peter wouldn’t just stand you up on purpose, but it wouldn’t be the first time he’d just have to intervene if he saw some bad business going down.

Nothing.

underoospeterparker

my girl

Steve harrington x fem!reader, 1.8k words, Steve is an adorable loser for his gf <3

summary: Everyone loves Steve's girlfriend, but he just wants a little bit of your attention for himself. Is that so bad?

It starts, as many things do, with Dustin Henderson.

You’re curled on the corner of Steve’s couch, your legs tucked under his thigh while he flicks through TV channels. The doorbell rings, and before Steve can even mutter “I’m not home,” the door swings open.

“Hey, is she— oh, there you are!” Dustin beams, dropping his backpack with a thud. "Hi!"

randomnessfangirl

State Of Grace

Pairing: Ryland Grace x fem!engineer!reader

Summary: On the way to Erid, Rocky convinces Ryland to confess his feelings to you.

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: This is my love letter to a beautiful and visually stunning movie. I can’t stress enough that science is not my forte at all, though, so please forgive any inaccuracies🧍‍♀️

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

You had never meant to become one of the most important people in the world. Then again, you had also never imagined that you would be coerced into going on a suicide mission before. But it was the most important cause you could possibly devote your life to as the tertiary engineer on the Hail Mary, brought onboard at the last minute. Along with Dr. Ryland Grace, you were supposed to save humanity from the threat of Astrophage causing the sun to dim.

Back on Earth, a million lifetimes ago, you had been his assistant. The only one he trusted to be in the room with him as he made one of the most important discoveries on the planet. In a matter of weeks, Ryland had taught you all he knew about the alien life form. With your varied credentials, the two of you had been among the few most qualified people in the world to go on this mission. And now here you were.

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