#{ feel free to turn this into a thread if you would like to!! c: }

[fated-stars]

“ Let me relax, I will exist later. ”

𝐌𝐈𝐗𝐄𝐃-𝐁𝐀𝐆 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒

{♕} "Aw, come on, Riku.."

Sora lightly pulled his best friend's arm as he held back a groan. He'd been wanting to spar with him all day and Riku said he would!

Yet, the longer he gazed at Riku's face, the more he could see how tired his friend was. He found himself not wanting to spar anymore, but instead...just sit with him. With a small breath, Sora released the other's arm and plopped down next to him on the sand. He laid back, folding his hands behind his head as a happy grin crossed his face.

"Well, guess you can't call me a lazy bones this time." He teased, having no bite to his words. "Don't be upset if I fall asleep, okay?"

[luvyeni]

genre smut 𖹭 warning oral ( m. receiving ), unprotected sex pairing — inexperienced!jisung x sexworker!reader | back to library .

「 authors note 𖹭 」 this was a request but it was too long

you sat at the bar; your last set for the night finished; watching a group of boys you normally service walk in. “you feel like working a little longer?” the madame of the place asked. “they tip well; they don't touch below the waist.” you shrugged, “why not?”

you got up from your seat, still in your outfit from the day as you made your way over to them. “yn.” jaemin said. “we were just about to call for you.” you smirked , leaning over , giving them a show. “you almost missed me.” you said. “how can I help you guys today?”

“its not us today baby.” jeno rubbed your arm. “you know know i would never miss an opportunity with my favorite girl.” you smiled. “then if not for you , then who?” you looked around the group , noticing a fresh face , a cute fresh face. “who is this?”

“the birthday boy.” haechan patted the boys back. “he's beyond legal sweetheart don't worry.” you rolled your eyes. “it's his first time here , we want to give him the best of the best.” he looked nervous, he cheeks red , like he never seen a women like this before, which he probably didn't. “he's cute.” you gushed. “we'll pay you good baby , you know we will.”

you walked over to him , he was a stuttering mess. “poor thing.” you held your hand out. “you coming?” he looked around to his friends. “dude go.” renjun pushed him up , he grabbed your hand. “good boy , let's go.” his friends cheered him on as you guided him to the back. “what's your name cutie?”

“ji-jisung.” his hands were sweaty , he was nervous; he'd never to something like this before, and it felt like you were gonna eat him alive, your confidence was accelerating , and also nerve wracking. “don't worry jisung, im gonna take good care of you.”

you shut the door to the private room , locking it. “now it's just me and you.” you sat down on the couch right next to him. “wh-what now?” he stuttered out. “well now you tell me what you want.” you place your hand on his thigh. “i-i��ve never done this before.” he said. “i can tell that just by looking at you baby.” he sighed , feeling you rub his thigh. “you like this?” you kissed his neck. “y-yeah.” he whimpered. “you want more?”

he nodded, you kissed down his neck , his whimpers turning into moans , as you slowly worked down , his legs spread open , as you got on your knees. “are you gonna…” you smiled , he was adorable, he was so inexperienced. “you want that?” he nodded his head vigorously. “lift your hips then baby.”

he listened , his hips lifting; you pulled his pants and underwear down , letting his cock free. “such a big cock , i guess what they say about shy boys is true.” you grabbed his base , kissing the tip of his cock , sucking on the head. “oh-oh that feels nice.” he moaned , you lowered your mouth down on him , his hands gripped the seat , your head bobbing up and down. “you-you're really good at that.”

his hips involuntarily jerk , making you gag. “i-i’m sorry.” he really couldn't hold himself back anymore , he could feel it coming. “i'm gonna cum.” he gasped out , you pulled your mouth off of him before he could cum , he whined. “di-did i do something wrong?”

you chuckled , wiping the spit from you chin. “of course not baby , you were perfect.” you stood up, taking your panties off, climbing into his lap , “i just thought the birthday boy would want more.” your fingers threading through his hair , normally you wouldn't show this much attention to a client , but he was different , you want to make sure he was taken care of. “do you not?”

“n-no I do.” he quickly said , “if that's okay?” he said , you lifted your hips, lining yourself up with his cock. “perfect.” you sunk down on him , he whimpered. “that feels good.” you worked yourself up and down on him. “good , you like that?” he nodded , you moaned. “c-can i touch you?” you nodded. “of course you can.” his hands came up to your boobs , squeezing them. “so-so soft.”

“y-yn?” he could feel his cock twitching; balls tightening. “i-im not gonna last.” you gave him the go; he thrusted up three times , before you got off of him , stroking his cock , his cum covering your hand. “good boy.” you coached him. “you came so much.”

“h-how do i pay you?” he said. “haechan already paid, don't worry.” you said , cleaning yourself up. “here , return these when you come back” you slid your panties back off , putting your shorts back on. “wh-what is this?” he asked , you were already halfway out the door “a birthday present.”

“how was it?” jeno smirked , drink in his hand , jisung ignored him; he was already making eye contact with you, you were walking out the door, you gave him a wink , his face turned red. “what the fuck was that?” haechan asked a girl kissing his neck , he shook his head.

your lace panties still in his pocket , you knew he'd be back.

©LUVYENI

[russellsppttemplates]

A red thread tying you to me (Charles Leclerc)

There was something pulling you to him and Charles was ready to act on it

Note: english is not my first language. I loved the blurb and now we have a big piece too!

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: mentions the death of reader's father's and Charles' father's deaths

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3

"The congress is just outside of Milan, the exact city and details are in there", your colleague Lucia offered as she flickered though the pages, "I've been a couple of times before and it's really enriching, I just know you'll love the students and the department head - she was my supervisor for a couple of years".

"It sounds great", you looked at the panel information and then the travel details, "it's such a shame you can't come with me though, but I also wouldn't want to risk your little dude showing up and have me as your midwife", you chuckled as Lucia rubbed her baby bump.

"You're capable of many things, Y/N, but I would prefer if the fate of my baby and my underparts was in the hands of a professional!", she bumped your shoulder, "and the area is really nice too, I'm sure you'll find something to keep you busy during the weekend".

"I have plans, actually, I'll be fine I think", you smiled.

Like Lucia predicted, you had a great time in the conference and the guest lecture you gave was applauded and discussed for nearly an hour after you showed the last slide of the presentation, topics going back and forth until everyone had to absolutely leave the room before the next lecture began. For now, you'd get to enjoy the region, drinking some wine and taking in the views you recognised.

The park where your father used to take you didn't look too different. The slides didn't look rusty anymore, and the swing was a bright red colour as you sat on it once you didn't see any other kid around who might want to use them and let yourself feel the breeze on your face and hair as you kicked your legs in and out. Your father used to make you feel like you could touch the sky with how high he helped you go, "you're going to touch the clouds, mia piccola stella", he would say and you would laugh loudly.

You missed him every single day, but over the years, your grief allowed you remember all of the happy moments you lived with him, cherishing them close to your heart. Spending the whole weekend in Monza and attending the race was something you hadn't done without him since he passed away. The circuit was your father's favourite - "it's the fans, Y/N, there's a thrill in the air that no other circuit has - Tifosi cover the streets, they're all you can see around town and it's magical almost" he would say to you, so when you noticed the conference was in the area and coincided with the Grand Prix weekend, both you and your mother agreed you should take the opportunity.

On your way back to the hotel, you stopped by the track, wondering what the preparations for a race weekend looked like after so many years. You still followed the sport, but you never got the chance to catch this on television.

"Oh my, oh my", you heard someone say beside where you were standing, "I can't believe my eyes, it's Y/N Y/L/N".

Turning around you spotted Salvatore, one of the mechanics your father worked with. He also had kids around your age and you would often play together whenever you were both in the garage for the weekend.

"Salvatore!", you cheered, giving him a big smile after kissing each of his cheeks, "you better believe your eyes then".

"It's been so long since I've seen you last", he recalled, rubbing your back softly. You and your mother had gone to Maranello for a tribute ceremony the team had for your father - that had been the last time he saw you.

"It has been, yes - I'm sorry", you apoligised. You told the team you'd be around and so much had happened since and you only watched it through a screen instead of living it in the flesh.

"It's okay, it was the time you needed - What brought you to Monza this weekend?", he wondered as he walked inside the paddock with you, scanning his card and getting you both in.

"A work trip actually - I finished a conference yesterday and I also gave a lecture at the university", you nodded, "and my father always loved Monza", you smiled at the memory, "he knew how cliché that sounded, but he always said there wasn't a better weekend on the calendar. And I've missed the rush, too", you offered, letting the tears flow freely and accepting them even though you were in the middle of the paddock, loud noises coming from every angle as the teams prepared the finishing touches for the upcoming race.

"He's very proud of you, I'm sure", Salvatore comforted, "and everyone will be happy to see you here - the little girl with the high pigtails is a grown woman now who attends conferences and gives lectures, who would've known?", he joked as you stepped inside the garage.

"Is this little troublemaker Y/N Y/L/N?", one of the oldest mechanics said after he applied a sticker to the halo.

When your father took you to the races, everyone knew they had fun guaranteed with you, always pulling pranks and laughing loudly, "my troublemaker days are over, I'm a responsible woman now", you chuckled, giving a quick wave to everyone before greeting everyone individually.

"Do you have tickets for this weekend?", Fred asked. Even though he had just met you, it was clear to him how much you mattered to everyone who worked with your father, "we can get you a pass, I'm sure".

"I have grandstand tickets", you stated.

"Silvia!", the team principal called the woman, making her approach him and rub your arm kindly, "do we have any guest passes left?".

"Let me check", Silvia mumbled, "we have one left, actually! Charles didn't even notice he asked us to save a ticket for his mother twice - I'll get it for you, it's in the meeting room upstairs", she smiled.

"Charles will also be very happy to see you around, did you tell him you were coming?", Salvatore mentioned.

"I haven't actually - I've been really busy", you mumbled.

You met the monégasque driver when he was Scuderia Ferrari's development driver and Prema Racing driver in Formula Two, accidentally running into him in the dining area of the hospitality and ending up spending most of his free time there throughout the whole weekend.

Quickly, it became a tradition to do so whenever he was over and whenever he was done with his Formula Two duties and you happened to be at the same track.

When you stopped attending races because the memories were too painful, you lost contact, opting to react to eachother's Instagram stories every now and again and sending quick messages through the social media app.

"The boys arrive today, but they're only coming to the track tomorrow", Fred added, "you'll have plenty of time to catch up".

Charles had finally arrived to the hotel after all the flights and drives, thankful that there weren't many fans around already and he could get inside without a hitch, checking in and getting his room keys.

"Hold it, per favore!", he said to the person on the lift, dreaming of the changing from his travel outfit and the bed waiting for him. When his hand helped him inside the metal door, he couldn't believe his eyes, "Y/N?".

He could remember the last time he saw you. He had just started his first season as a Formula One driver for Alfa Romeo and you had come back to the paddock for the first race of the season like you promised you would. He sat with you whenever he had a little break, you caught up with him and his early days as a driver with a seat rather than just watching from the sidelines.

"Charles, hi!", you gasped, hugging him and feeling him squeeze your body against his.

"I- what are you doing here? Are you here for the race?", he wondered. This couldn't be a mere coincidence. He hoped it wasn't.

"I had a work trip here that coincided with this weekend, and I thought of it as a sign", you explained, "you're staying in this hotel too?".

"Yes, the team are at the one where we usually stay for the weekend, but until Thursday, I'm staying here, yes", he smiled, "Goodness, I feel like it's both been forever and like it was yesterday", he chuckled, "do you want to get a drink? I have a nice selection in my room whenever I stay", he offered.

"I'd love to, Charles", you said, hoping that the tingly feeling on your tummy mirrored Charles' own excitement at this unexpected but valued encounter, "are you sure though? You just arrived".

"No, don't worry about that! My room is... 705", he checked on the card he was handed, "so you can join me now or maybe you want to set those things down first and meet me there?", he pointed to the bag you were carrying.

"Yes, this is quite heavy actually", you blushed, "my room is on this floor, so I'll meet in your room in fifteen? I need to freshen up because I've been walking around town all day".

Leaving the elevator on your floor, Charles waved at your before the doors closed andyou headed to your door. Stepping inside, you left the totebag with the books you bought in the chair before heading to the bathroom, brushing out any tangles in your hair and splashing your face with water to freshen up.

After getting yourself ready to go, you went up to Charles' floor, knocking on the door and waiting for him.

"Come in, come in!", Charles offered after he opened the door, "I've unpacked but kept it very organised still", he chuckled as you walked inside the room. It looked the same as yours did, only a different colour pallette for the decoration.

"How have you been?", you wondered once you sat down and shared some sparkling water, neither of you really feeling like drinking anything alcoholic.

"You surely know more about me than I know about you", Charles smiled, "but it's been good, this season has been great so far, I feel like we're in a really good path and things are working well", he took a sip from his cup, "the team have done such an incredible job".

"And the driver on the car doesn't have anything to do with that?", you squinted at his ever so modest take on things.

"I suppose I do", he blushed.

"I may have not been here, but I've watched every race - minus some of the ones at daft o'clock, I only watched those when my sleep was all messed up", you joked, "you're an essential part of this team, Charles, everyone can see that so you should give yourself more credit", you touched his arm.

Even though it had been years since you last saw eachother, you hit it off immediately and it seemed like no time had passed.

"And you? What is this work trip that brought you here?", Charles nodded.

"You're not the only one who gets to travel for work, alright?", you tsked, "I had to do a presentation on a conference and then the department invited me for a lecture, nothing big".

"Who's being ever so modest now, hm? That is fantastic, mon ange!", he congratulated before he noticed the words coming out of his mouth.

"When I noticed it fell around this weekend, I told my mum and she said that I should try and dip my foot here - I've been wanting to come to race sooner but...", you trailed off.

"I get it - it's hard going to the places that remind you of them", Charles took his hand in yours and squeezed it, "he was so cherished by the team, I'm sure everyone will be very happy to see you".

"Actually, I walked to the track today so I could see it up close before the race - I hoped it wouldn't be such a big shock once I got there on Friday -, and I bumped into Salvatore", you smiled, "he let me go into the garage and I saw everyone, it was really nice", you looked up so the tears on your eyes wouldn't fall.

"I can get you a pass, let me just text Silvia!", Charles said as he got his phone from his pocket with his free hand.

"She already did", you chirped, "apparently you booked two for your mother, so they had a spare one".

"You see, a couple of years ago, my mum was too late to tell me she was coming to the race and I was out of the guest passes, so I always have one on hold for her and I sent the list with her name on it as well", he admitted, "but it seems to have turned out just fine - meant to be even".

You ended up requesting room service for the two of you for dinner, neither feeling like going out of the room after feeling so comfortable there. Conversation was steady, vulnerability was easy to show and the butterflies were happily dancing on your tummy.

"I better get to my room, then", you stated once Charles told you about what he needed to do tomorrow once he was at the track.

"I didn't mean it that way - I'm fine!", he said after doing his best attempt at containing a big yawn, "I'm fine!".

"You're tired, and frankly so am I", you admitted as you got up from the bed.

"Would you like to come with me to the track tomorrow? If you don't have other plans that is", he mumbled the last part.

"I don't - I was just going to work a little bit, but if you find me a spot in the hospitality, I'll happily take my stuff there", you smiled reassuringly as you put on your shoes and headed to the door.

"I can take you to your room", Charles got up from the bed and followed you.

"No need, my room is just downstairs", you reasoned, kissing his cheek in a silent thank you still.

"That's right - so we'll go tomorrow after breakfast?", he rested his body on the door once you opened it.

"Yes, that works for me! Good night, Charles", you smiled before walking up to the elevator.

.

Walking inside the hospitalitynwith Salvatore and the rest of the team, he was quick to show you where you could set up.

"Charles likes to spend as much time as possible with the fans and it's right about now that they start becoming more and more and they're everywhere, too", he explained as he helped you in the table on the lounge area, "there's food and coffee in there if you need anything", Salvatore smiled, "if you need anything, just ask someone".

"Thank you - this is perfect", you assured, sitting down and working on your laptop and reading some of the books you had bought.

Charles and Carlos finally arrived at the hospitality, greeting the team and talking to them for a while before they headed upstairs for a meeting.

"You didn't tell me you had a girlfriend and you were bringing her here", Carlos told Charles as he poured some coffee on a mug after the meeting.

"I don't - I haven't brought a girlfriend here", Charles quirked an eyebrow at his team-mate.

"So who is that young woman you just smiled at and are pouring coffee for after giving her the heart eyes?", it was the spanish driver's turn to raise his eyebrows.

"Oh, Y/N!", Charles smiled as he mentioned your name, "she's an old friend! Her father was a mechanic before he passed away a few years ago - the older team members have known her since she was little, everyone loves her", he mused.

"Everyone loves her - I can see that", Carlos chuckled as he followed Charles to the table.

"We don't want to interrupt or disturb you too much", Charles announced as he set the mug next to your laptop.

"It's fine, sit sit!", you encouraged as you closed the books you no longer needed to make room for them, "I'm Y/N", you told Carlos.

"I'm Carlos", he smiled back, "nice to meet you", he said before you dove into conversation, discussing anything that popped into your minds and getting to know eachother.

"Don't let her fool you into believing she has always been a responsible, put together girl because she used to steal and hide all of our tools!", Antonio, one of the engineers pointed at you after he got himself a bottle of water, "Charles knows her tricks already but you, Carlos, don't fall for that!".

"You loved it every time I was on the computers and drew on Paint! You even had one of my drawings as the background for almost an entire season!", you threw at him as he approached you, patting the top of your head protectively.

"I'd like to see that! I've only known her since she was way older", Charles pouted.

"Jealous much?", Carlos teased, his voice above a whisper as Charles seemed to get flustered.

"Is it really that obvious?", the monégasque driver mumbled once you got up to get something to eat, "I've had a crush on her since I was a development driver".

"Why have you never said anything? She seems like she really cares about you too", Carlos mused as he thought to a few moments before where you too gqve him heart eyes. He would have to be blind to not notice it, and even then the energy between you too would still be felt.

"The timing wasn't right, I guess - her father passed away almost right after as I became a driver for Alfa Romeo, and she hasn't been in the paddock since. We have texted every now and again over the years and now she happened to be here for the race too", Charles offered.

"I'd say you should take a shot - trust me, she likes you back", Carlos patted Charles' shoulder after getting up, watching you go back to the table with a big smile on your face.

.

After Charles took pole position in qualifying, the team stayed a bit longer for the debrief, going over a few points of the discussion and the changes they still needed to make before the race.

"Y/N! We're having dinner at one of our favourite restaurants in town and I'm counting you in, okay?", Charles said as he spotted you in the garage, followed by Andrea, who had been keeping you company along with his brothers, Charlotte and Pascale.

"Your family is here for you, Charles, I don't want to intrude", you said as you got up, unaware of the Leclerc matriarch behind you.

"Chérie, of course you won't be intruding - we'd love to have you there!", Pascale chirped in.

"Well, in that case...!", you smiled, "just tell me where I should go and at what time, or are we going straight there?", you wondered.

"I was thinking we could go straight there if that's okay with you - you can can come with me and Andrea can ride with my brothers", Charles suggested, "unless you need to go back to the hotel", he quickly scrambled.

"No, I'm fine! Unless this outfit is not restaurant appropriate", you muttered as you looked down. Against all odds, you managed to not get any food stains on your dress. It was a midi skirt cut, flowy to allow your body to feel cool considering the warm Italian day.

"It's fine - you're fine, you look beautiful!", Charles was quick to assure you.

"Good, that's good then", you smiled before excusing yourself to go and get your things.

"You have to tell her, Charles - your affection is no use to either of you if you keept it in here", Pascale tapped her son's chest.

.

"Y/N", Charles called you before he had to go and get ready for the race, "I have something for you - we do", he said as some of the mechanics, including Salvatore, followed him.

"Oh, what is it?", you smiled.

"We commented with some guys back at the factory that you were here with is this weekend and they found something we thought you'd like to have", Salvatore said as he handed you a bag.

Looking inside, you noticed an old Ferrari cap and some embroidered lettering on the side, recognising it immediately. When you were a teenager, you decided to try different hobbies and hand embroidery was the one that stuck the most, so much so that on one of the race weekends, you embroidered caps for everyone on the team that asked you.

"My wife remembered the one I have at home and then the guys at Maranello found your father's and apparently one you did for Charles' as well", Salvatore offered as you took them both out.

"Dad always said he had plenty of embroidered things at home and this one was the one he had to travel with him", you chuckled as tears welled up in your eyes, feeling Charles soothingly rub your back.

"I remember getting this and loving it - I thought I had lost it!", Charles said, unaware if how close he was pulling you together so he could get a peek at the old caps.

"There's some loose string here", you chuckled, wiping the tears and fiddling with the red thread, "I didn't know how to properly tie it at the start, I kept losing it - I think I even glued it down at some point. Thank you for bringing this out", you smiled.

"Would you mind if I wore this for the driver's parade?", Charles asked you.

"I was planning on wearing my dad's while I watched the race", you offered, testing the fabric and placing it on your head before doing the same with Charles, fixing it on his head and looking up at him.

You never got over how handsome he was. The little scar on his cheek, his mole, the smile that never failed to make you smile, his beautiful green eyes. His kindness, his gentleness, his talent - there wasn't a way to deny how much you liked it. How much you liked him.

"We will be matching then!", Charles squeezed you against him before going to his driver's room.

Only when Charles was headed to take P1 on the grid did he hand the cap back to Salvatore and put on his helmet, giving you a wink before he left.

"How are you feeling?", Pascale asked as she sat next to you to watch the race. Over the last couple of days, she had grown close to you, not only because you had captured her son's heart and she wanted to get to know you, but also because Charles had told her how emotionally charged it was for you to be at the track, in Monza nonetheless.

"It's a lot", you admitted, "everyone has been so kind and warm, so all of the heavy feelings have been slowly infiltrating the good ones and it's been easier to deal with them like that", you blinked away a few tears.

"I get it", Pascale nodded, "losing someone is not easy, and I can't imagine what it feels like for you - the boys and I talk about my late husband every now and again and it gets easier to talk about it, I think that's what it is anyway".

"Yes, definitely like that. My mum and I have reached the point where we don't cry at every mention - despite what you might have noticed this weekend", you chuckled.

"It's emotional, chérie - I, for one, always cry whenever the boys achieve their goals. Hervé isn't here to see them, but I know he knows, and the boys know how proud he is of them", Pascale smiled, keeping some tears at bay too.

"You raised amazing young men, don't doubt that", you let out. At this point, you were sure she had noticed or had at least an inkling. As any mechanic for the red team who knew you since you were a kid would say, you were never a good liar - anytime you said you didn't touch something, they knew to look in your backpack first.

"Thank you, dear", she added, "you know, Charles is quite careful in who he lets in, but he's never been good at hiding how much he cares about someone and I can tell he cares a great deal about you".

"I care a lot about him too", you smiled before you were handed a pair of headphones each with the race about to start.

When Charles successfully kept the cars behind him away with a good gap, you clapped and watched the remaining laps number get smaller and smaller until there was only the current lap left.

Charlotte held your hand together with hers as you watched Charles be the first driver to see the checkered flag and when Xavi yelled "And P1!" into the radio, you did your happy dance, not having a care in the world about what others thought as you watched the Tifosi erupt in cheer.

"He did it! He did it!", Pascale clapped for her son, Arthur hugging her while Lorenzo did the same with his girlfriend while you softly touched your father's embroidered name on your cap with your fingers.

Running up to Parc Fermé, you stood in the sea of red, waiting for him to come back and hug them.

"You did so well, congratulations!", you said as you pulled Charles for a hug.

"Had my good luck charm with me!", he smiled back, kissing your cheek as he took advantage of you being shielded by the mechanics and engineers.

The team celebratory dinner was going really well, everyone happy with how the weekend panned out with both drivers on the podium and enjoying the meal on the restaurant's outside patio.

"If you guys want dessert, they're going to set them out on that table and you can grab as much as you like", Fred spread the message as you could see all kinds of sweet foods being brought out, a pudding catching your eye along with some raspberries.

You and Charles got the dessert plates and served yourselves, noticing the staff was already clearing up the tables, meaning you'd have to move to the bar area, many people opting to skip dessert and get some drinks instead.

"You can see the stars so clearly tonight", you mused as you looked up at the sky, setting your plate on the high table.

"My father always said that the stars did shine brighter here, and tonight the sky is very clear", Charles hummed in agreement, looking at your face. The moonlight and the dim lighting for the lamps and fairy lights illuminated all your features perfectly - your smile as you looked up formed the dimples on your cheeks, your eyes that were a tiny bit squinty and the way your whole body seemed relaxed.

The goosebumps on your arms caught his eye though, "here, have this", Charles said as he offered you the cardigan he had carried around all night since according to him his mother made him do it because it would be cold.

"Thanks", you smiled as you pulled the sleeves and folded them around your wrist so they would fit better, "this is really comfy, I might steal this if you don't ask for it back", you joked.

"I don't mind if you keep it, you have had my heart all these years", Charles stated. There it was.

"What?", you faced him, heart beating fast inside your chest.

"It's true, I've had a crush on you since I first met you, and these past couple of days have been amazing, and I can't believe it took me all these years to realize how I truly feel about you Y/N", he told you, no stutter or sign of regret on his face.

"I haven't been around, really, it's my fault", you fiddled with your thumbs before looking at him again, "but I can't lose you again".

"You never lost me, amour", he smiled as his eyes flickered between your eyes and your lips, his hand cupping your cheek your mouth pressed on his, ignoring everything and everyone around you.

Interrupting the kiss for air, Charles giggled as you hid your face in his neck once you heard the cheers and whistles, your lashes tickling him as his arms circled your waist and pulled you closer to him.

"He wins inside the track and outside of it, Charles Leclerc, P1 to Y/N's heart!", Carlos shouted before whistling again.

"Just so you know, I want an invite to your wedding!", Salvatore pointed his finger at you, "I still remember when you invited me for your wedding with Vettel!".

"You and Seb?", Charles chuckled once you pulled away from his neck.

"Sebastian was my favourite when I was little", you giggled, hiding your face on Charles' chest this time, "when he was back in RedBull still, I asked my father to ask him if he could take a photo with me and I cherished that for so many years - it was my most prized possession!".

"I can't promise you Seb, but I can promise you the very best of me", Charles said as he kissed the top of your head.

[shadowdaddies]

I’m so sorry but these are not gonna stop anytime soon 😭😭 I have so many ideas for stories and I love seeing how they turn out and you’re the only writer I trust to do it. Feel free at any point to cut me off! Could I get one where the reader and az are in battle and one of them jumps in front of the other to save them and end up getting very seriously injured but they survive. And when they wake up the other can’t belive it and is still upset so they kiss all over them to prove that they are okay. Can I also get a little bit of worrying from cassian and Rhys in there too! Maybe if the reader is the one to get hurt they are worried about her and if it’s az then they’re the ones to comfort her. Thank you!!

lol keep em coming, love! I'm always happy for the requests💜

The Greatest Casualty

Azriel x Reader

Warnings: depictions of battle, blood, injury and death

A storm personified, you surged through the battlefield, cutting down enemy after enemy in a blur of clashing swords and blood. Azriel fought alongside you, the two of you working in tandem as you fought in a darkly beautiful dance together. 

As you moved forward, you caught the archer’s bow directed at you, cutting her arrow down effortlessly with your blade. What you didn’t notice in time was the archer lined next to her, firing their arrow quickly after, aimed straight for your mate. You didn’t have time to calculate the swing of your sword to deflect another arrow in time, adrenaline taking over your thoughts as you pushed Azriel out of the way, diving in front of the arrow yourself. 

As your flesh began to burn, excruciating pain spreading through your veins as the world blurred, you realized the arrow was poisoned. Azriel’s raging scream was the last thing you heard before your vision faded to black. 

Fading in and out of consciousness, you were unaware of how much time was passing as your body warred with itself to stay in this world. There were occasional muffled voices, some you recognized and some you did not. You once thought you could hear Azriel crying as a voice that sounded like Cassian’s comforted him, but when you tried to send reassurance to him through the bond, the connection was weak. All that you could feel from his end was a maelstrom of emotions, swirling torment and agony. Your heart broke for him before drifting back out of consciousness. 

Another time, you could hear Rhys and Feyre, more clearly than you had heard other voices before. They were speaking in hushed tones, but the words you heard were enough to build a fire within you. As your High Lord and High Lady discussed what would happen to your mate should you never wake up, you felt a fire in your veins. You crawled out of that dark place in your mind where you had been resting, clawing your way towards the light in front of you, that golden mating bond tethering you to this life. 

You grabbed that thread and tugged it with all your strength as a blinding light overwhelmed your senses. Your eyes shot open as you gasped for air, the blinding light you saw proving to be daylight shining through the window of your room. Rhys and Feyre turned from their conversation, shock and awe in their expressions before Feyre burst into tears, running to you from across the room. She brought you in for a gentle hug, the ache of your joints eliciting a wince from you regardless. She turned and directed Rhys to get Azriel and a healer, refusing to leave you now that you had awoken.

You nearly sobbed as you heard Azriel’s voice coming closer as he argued with Rhys that they shouldn’t have made him go downstairs to eat, because he missed his mate waking up. The door burst open, Feyre stepping aside to let Azriel settle next to you on the bed. You tried to speak, but the words came out raspy as if your voice hadn’t been used in too long. Feyre and Rhys left you alone with Azriel, heading downstairs to greet the healer whenever they arrived. 

Az studied your face, pressing kisses to every part of you that he could reach. He brushed your hair from your eyes, aiding you as you sat up against the pillows. He helped you drink some water, making it possible for you to speak well enough to ask, “how long was I out for?” Azriel’s face crumpled, sighing as he clutched your hand as though if he let go, you might disappear. “Ten days.” Your lower lip wobbled as you attempted to hold back the tears, Azriel gently shushing you as he held you close to his chest. “You dove in front of an ash arrow with a poisoned tip.” You heard his voice break as he whispered, “We didn’t know how you could survive.”

Azriel pulled back to look in your eyes, a scarred hand stroking your cheek. “Why would you do that, love? I waited for you for nearly six hundred years. I didn’t know - I don’t know what I would do if I lost you.” You took Azriel’s hand in your own, pressing a kiss to his palm. “The arrow would have hit you. I can’t lose you either, Azriel. I would take an arrow for you again without thought. You are my mate, and I would give my life gladly knowing that I will find you in the next.”

Azriel laid down next to you, the two of you enjoying each others’ presence as you began to drift off to sleep. You were startled from your peaceful state as the door was bust open once more, Cassian running in to bring you into a bear hug, your stiff joints protesting as you winced at the overwhelming affection. Azriel pushed him off of you, snarling, “you’re hurting her, Cass.” Cassian pulled away apologetically. “I’m sorry sweetheart, I’m just happy to see you. The healers are here, by the way.” 

Madja entered with another healer who apparently specialized in poisons, the two of them examining your injuries as Azriel kept a protective arm around you the entire time. They left, clearing you for light activity until your next check-up, and Azriel carried you down to have dinner with your family, the both of you overflowing with love and appreciation for each other and the others in your lives.

[buglism]

Any chance we can get a sfw alphabet for Vere from Touchstarved?

(I like to put characters who probably aren't familiar too with non-sexual intimacy into situations where they get to experience non-sexual intimacy lol)

SFW abcs (A-C) with Vere from touchstarved!

A/N: the ABCs for both SFW and NSFT (not featured in this work) are made by me! Please credit me if you use them! Also! I love vere, I love complex characters with gray or dark morals who have their moments of humanity so much <3 this can be read as either romantic or platonic!

Feel free to request the rest of the SFW alphabet, this was just super long as is! Lmk what you think <3

Warnings: canon typical CWs apply, vere being…vere. Possibly ooc as this is my interpretation based on the two routes I’ve played so far (need to do the last one), nongendered reader, ‘friends’ to friends to possible lovers implications, platonic intimacy with implications of possible romantic feelings, but keeping with the macabre theme of the game.

A = Affection (how do they show affection/ / prefer to receive affection?)

Give:

Vere shows his affection in blunt ways, threatening you, flirts, empty promises of truth hidden under his silken tongue. We all know and have experienced Veres light switch tendencies with MC so while threatening you initially was for fun, sick thrill of the hunt, after a while you notice a change, he hopes you don’t focus on the way he gifts you long sleeve gloves that fit unsettlingly well to your cursed black flesh (of course and very in fashion) as the sun rises on your birthday, he disappears into the small crowd starting that surrounds the alley near the wet wick before you can register what’s happening, eyes tired as you resist the urge to smile, maybe being awoken so early wasn’t so bad.

Or the way your cape, which has been frayed and torn in multiple spots, truly almost strings in a certain someone’s opinion, is suddenly replaced one day after a heavy night of drinks and laughs at the wet wick, you don’t remember losing your original cape.

Thinking through the fog and hangover you remember wearing it at the bar, chatting away with someone, and then suddenly you were being guided to your room; slightly (extremely) drunk. Your brows furrow as your covered hands rub the new cape, thick outer layer feels breathable and expensive fur lines the entire inside, a heavy thick wool coat a dark gray is soft to the touch and feels warm, the hood has a fabric mask that feels like satin and covers everything from your nose down.

As you fiddle with it, lost in thought, you find clasps; the inner fur can be removed for warmer weather. Suddenly as you swear your face grew warm you remembered the smell of..something sweet and spiced.. you shake your head, pain settles into your skull and you decide it best left for another time. You don’t question as you inspect the jacket (can never truly fully trust the damn man, with how black and white he seems to be at every turn) the way he, somehow or by choice, left his initials in pink thread on the inside of the heavy fabric, either.

Receive:

he adores gifts, but of course he does, less work and hassle for him to do and who can so no to free stuff? Banter and borderline threats as well, the way your eyes went pinprick when his teeth grazed your throat sent primal shivers down his spine, the night you met.

Sex? Of course, with not much else to do what’s a guy to do? He would probably be surprised (and depending on how close you are) slightly annoyed if you refused. He wouldn’t kill you, not now at least, but it would set him on edge, if you don’t want sex and you don’t want his money what else are you after?

But something he will never admit is quality time, pebbling and loyalty really sink their claws into his (hopefully not three times too small) heart.

The way you often join him at the bar despite his insistence he hates the alcohol, but booze is booze he says and you notice how his posture slowly sinks as the nought goes on, his ears; while still alert, no longer stand like daggers listening intently. It’s not the alcohol, at least you think, that makes him seem so … human in the wet wicks dim light, when he laughs and hiccups or nearly falls off the barstool (again.)

Or how he refuses to acknowledge the way his eyes watched your figure swim through the crowd before declining to his hand, where a bag of assorted flora and fauna was held. ‘I accidentally took too much’ you said, fighting back an awkward chuckle ‘I figured out of everyone you’d enjoy having some’ your voice lingered in his brain as his ear twitches in annoyance, trying to stuff the disgusting and .. human emotions building in his chest.

Maybe you do finally acknowledge it, in a way, one night and after way too many glasses of wine and champagne you’re one of the only one willing to walk him ‘home’. if you could call the tall spire with secrets buried under mystery and danger a home to anything.

He leans into your frame, and somehow you hold as he giggles drunkenly into your ear, eyes trained on your reaction with almost feverish intent. His lips meet your skin and for a moment you feel the familiar strike of fear down your spine, he almost looks like he’s ready to strike before he sighs deeply, something strange flutters through his eyes and he settles into your side. His hair uncharacteristically a mess and the collar softly clanked in the darkening sunlight and abandoned street, he’s lost in thought as you two walk.

Just as you made it to the bridge and further from lowtown you felt his breath on your ear as he stops walking, his hands resting on your hips, turning you to face him as he leans forward and presses his forehead into your shoulder, shocked and afraid you’re stiff in his hold before you hear faintly “if you ever betray me, I’ll fucking kill you.” and before you know it he’s walking up the bridge, seeming more sober than before, almost at his usual confidant stride.

You stand there for ages it seems, deciding however it’s better to retreat into familiar territory lest a soulless find you yet again, you walk home. A strange sense of trust and something new bubbling in your chest.

Should it be fear? Or something somehow darker?

B = Best Friend (how are they around people they are close with? How would you know?)

There’s evidence vere can become close with someone, or at least was able to, given how much he seems to know about Ais in a .. . Definitely normal way. As well as a few others. You’ll know when his advice becomes less and less harsh jabs with intent to kill with harsh realities and slowly he begins dripping ways he may be able to relate to you.

Example:

You: “kauras is driving me nuts-“ (his care and lack of seeming any leeway into becoming closer than arms length are overwhelmingly frustrating sometimes)

Vere: “. . . Have you been deaf the entire time? Or are you too stupid to comprehension any of what I’ve been telling you?”

To

You: “why are we walking in circles?” (You’d become overwhelmed inside the crowded bar, bloodhounds being loud was enough let alone how humid the damn place got)

Vere: “25 minutes.” (As smug as can be, looking for any sort of reaction out of you)

You: “what? . . “ (confused as ever, passing the wet wick for what seems like the fourth time)

Vere, slightly annoyed: “25 minutes it took for you to notice. Besides, it smelt like dog shit, figured you wouldn’t mind some fresh air away from. . That.” (That’s all, he tells himself, however truthfully Leander was annoying him with more of his ‘drinks’ and you were the only one within arms reach that wouldn’t annoy the fuck out of him.)

C = cuddles (how are they when physically affectionate? Are they at all?)

Vere when physical intimacy is involved it’s usually to get a reaction, or gain something in return. And who can blame him? He’s been property for as long as god knows. He’s learned his skill set for a reason, and in his own words ‘ I’m very good at what I do ’

That’s all, that’s all it would ever be. But again, he hopes you don’t notice his leniency for you. You push a lot of buttons, and sometimes you push them well. But in some fittingly dark way..

As a totally yk hypothetically made up situation:

you’re at the wet wick one night, at the bar talking (being annoyed by) Ais when vere arrives, instantly vere with a confident stride heads to the bar. And let’s say some time later, and several drinking games, you’re shitfaced. But, the wet wick is slightly tamer now, the crowed settling for the evening once again. You and vere sit in a booth (having moved away from the bar at vere’s request when Leander wanted him to try a new shot called ‘the guzzler’ that had pink chunks of . . Something in it.) and the silence is enjoyable, vere is mid sip of his glass when he feels you suddenly lean into his side. At the contact he stiffens for a moment, observing you as you cuddle into him for warmth. Somehow, seeming to have lost your cape.

Something in his brain struggles for a moment, here he has the perfect opening to see what’s underneath your bandages, to figure out what the fucking fuss is about.

But another part speaks a little louder he finds, despite how tight his clenched jaw is as he chugs the rest of his wine and thinks about asking for another bottle.

As you settle against him he sighs, lifts you up slightly and encourages you to lean on him. Seeing this as an ample moment for more heat to your somehow cold body you wrap your arms around his midsection, even in this state careful not to disrupt your coverings, no longer bandages, but gloves. You sigh with a giggle as he grabs something, possibly his own jacket off the back of the booth as you leave, heading back to your loggings in the wet wick.

He doesn’t say anything, neither do you, but you notice he stands closer now, and once; when a little tipsy you leaned against him, and despite realizing and trying to move he leans into the touch.

It’s a mutual agreement then, more a challenge.

How far are you both willing to let the other go?

[zeezelweazel]

can you do a h/c alexia fic with a fluffy ending? i don't really have a scenario but ill take anything. and i don't mind whether it's r comforting alexia or alexia comforting r

Alexia Putellas| Not like before|

______________________________________

I loved this idea and honestly I think it's about time I wrote something other than smut lol

I'm not really proud of how this turned out

TW: Alexia's injury, hurt/comfort

____________________________________________________

It's been a year and a few months since the day Alexia tore her ACL. She was doing better, both on and off the field, as you helped her through every step of her recovery. Or so you thought.

You can't remember exactly when you started noticing the signs but you know it's not just you. Mapi, Alba and even some of the staff members alongside some of your other teammates have started to notice a shift in the captain's behaviour. She was spacey and unfocused more often than not, even during training which is something the captain would never allow herself to do. She seemed to be especially nervous and fidgety days before matches, especially the important ones.

What got everyone really worried was her absence from training camp and the last few matches of the nation's league. The team wasn't nervous, they knew they could qualify for the Olympics anyway but Alexia leaving the camp a few hours after she arrived made everyone particularly worried.

You thought this was your chance to finally get to the bottom of this.

It seemed simple in your head but now, when you're standing in front of Alexia's bedroom door, your stomach is clenched tightly and uncomfortably. You gulp down your nerves and decide to finally knock on the door. A few seconds of silence go by and just as you're about to knock again you hear Alexia's voice.

"Come in." Alexia's voice was quiet and tired. You softly opened the door. Alexia was laying on the bed, mindlessly scrolling away on her iPad. She barely looked up from the screen to acknowledge you. Not really knowing how to approach her you sat down next to her. You took a peak at the screen to see a tweeter thread. That was really surprising given that the last thing Alexia likes to do on her free time is scroll on social media.

It's only when you read the comments that you finally understand.

'Alexia isn't playing again? It's probably her knee'

'It's sad how she'll never play at 100% again'

'I miss the old Alexia, she looks scared to play now'

'She used to be the greatest before her injury'

'She was in the peak of her career, now it's all over'

Your heart ached as the comments kept flooding the screen. You can't imagine how Alexia must feel as she reads through them. You don't know if she's noticed you or not but her eyes are glued on the screen. You finally decide to take action, Alexia is stunned when you grab the device out of her hands. She looks at you with an unreadable expression. You decide to place your hand on her back, Alexia doesn't move away but you know that the physical contact does very little to help.

"Ale please, you need to stop looking at these posts. You know how the internet is-"

You couldn't even finish your sentence, Alexia was already up from the bed and moving towards the bedroom door.

"Alexia."

You called out for her but the Catalan was already out of your shared room, leaving you alone and confused to ponder over what you said wrong.

You decide to call Mapi and tell her about what happened with Alexia. The blonde seemed to be very concerned for her best friend after you narrated the incident. Both of you tried to find a solution, a way to talk to Alexia. You have to help her, you can't bear seeing her like this. Not when just a year ago she was running on the pitch like an untamed wind, playing her favourite sport for her dream club and winning every possible trophy.

You knew better than everyone how this injury affected her. You naively thought that after the world cup win she'd immediately be back to her old self. Unfortunately that's not how ACL tears work. Your head is a mess, running at a hundred miles per hour as you desperately try to work a way around this mess.

You throw yourself in training the next few days, hoping that by doing so you'll be able to clear your head. If the rest of the girls have caught on on your distress they don't mention it.

After an exhausting three hour training session you move through the stadium, eager to reach the locker room and pack your stuff to go home. You hear faint sniffles just before you enter and you pause outside of the door. If someone is crying, then something serious must've happened. But then again, you don't know if the person crying wants company right now. Against your better judgement you decide to open the door anyway.

"Hey, wha- Alexia..?"

The blonde abruptly looks up and she hastily wipes the tears from her face, as if that would erase the image of her crying just a few seconds ago. Your heart breaks at the embarrassment that's evident in Alexia's face. She shouldn't feel embarrassed to cry, especially not in front of you. You take a careful step forward and when Alexia doesn't move you continue to approach her. You take her face in your hands and make her look up at you. Your heart breaks at the absolutely defeated look in her eyes.

"Ale... what's wrong? You can talk to me."

Alexia pulls back and sits down on one of the benches. You take the invitation and sit down next to her. You're both quiet for a while but you understand that Alexia needs to collect her thoughts.

"It feels like I'll never play again." You look at Alexia when she finally breaks her silence and you let her continue." Every time I step on the training field it feels pointless, because when I look at the team sheet I'm not even on the bench. And when I do play, I either do horribly or my knee starts acting up immediately after. I'm going to be too old to play by the time I'm fully fit."

You wrapped your arms around Alexia after she finished her rant. To be honest, you didn't really know what to tell her, you were scared that you were going to fuck up but you had to try.

"You can't give up Alexia."

Short, plain, simple and incredibly basic. So basic that you're sure she's heard it a million times before. Still Alexia looks at you and her eyes seem just a little bit brighter.

"Plus you're la reina."

You press a quick kiss on her lips and your heart swells when she smiles.

"The best footballer in the world."

Another kiss.

"The biggest idol in women's football."

Another one.

"And of course, the best girlfriend ever."

Alexia is laughing now, full and happy, as she wraps her arms around you in a tight embrace. You feel like you haven't seen her laugh in forever, the sound bringing a warm feeling to your body.

"Thank you, mi amor."

You brush a stray strand of hair behind her ear and lean in to kiss her once more.

____________________________________________________

[thecapricunt1616]

The Bear & His Honey Chapter 4

Inspo: Quote- “ Innocence died screaming, honey, ask me- I should know. I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door.”  Dedication: @daysofyellowroses - bestie thank you for inspiring and encouraging me to write. I haven’t felt more alive and inspired then I have in the past few days writing again. Thank you!! This is for you loveyyyy.  Summary: Winnie & Carmy get closer. Have a marg over a mini therapy session, Winnie fixes up Carm’s panic injury. They find out there may just have been a single thread of gold tying them together the entire time.  W/C: 5,484 A/N: Oh my lanta y’all!! 2 chapters in one day?! I promise- PROMISEEE tonight I am figuring a master list out, because I (myself) have been struggling to keep things canon to the story by having to scroll and scroll through my page to find each part to see what I said for Winnie, LOL! So get hype for that, I love this chapter even more then the last bc it has more Carmy, but Richie is so fun to write and I can’t wait for he&Winnies friendship to bloom!!! For my canon Carmy continues going to therapy once or so a week / a support group type talk therapy so that is why he shares more than he would in the show. It’s on his one day off so that’s why he is able to continue making it, and he thrives on routine so going once a week keeps him regulated.  Warnings for BTC: A little bit of smut, angst, mentions of suicide, mentions of vehicular accidents ending in death, mentions of self-harm, mentions of severe injury, negative self-talk, feminine yearning (ofc), fluffy fluff (enough for your teeth to rot out of ur face), panic disorder, mentions of a panic attack, heavy petting, alcohol, mentions of smoking cigarettes, mental health issues, exhausted Carmy LOL

𝒞𝒽𝑒𝒸𝓀 𝒪𝓊𝓉 𝑀𝓎 𝑀𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉!

Read Chapter 3

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

The door flings open and before I could even get a good look at him his arms were wrapped tightly around my waist, his large hands resting on my rib cage, and thumbs gently rubbing soothing strokes. I gasped a bit in surprise at the contact, his muscular chest pressed to mine. Pulling me tighter and he nuzzles his face in my neck, his hot breath causing goosebumps to appear all over my skin. I inhaled his scent, a bit of his musky spicy cologne still left over after the long day, cigarette smoke, and a day of working, but he didn’t smell bad at all. I would buy a fucking candle of it if I could, and never burn it so it lasts forever. 

He needed this hug. 

“Thank you f’ comin’, Winnie. I really need a drink, like now” he said quietly and I bit my lip, my hands rubbing soothing circles in the middle of his back. “Course, you think I’d turn down a free drinky-drink from the sexiest little Chef boy in Chicago?” He chuckled into my neck, feeling a small smile press into my skin. “I’m sorry” he pulls away and I finally am able to look at him. 

His hair is a mess, cheeks are stained red, his eyes are bloodshot and glazed over like he’d been crying, he rubs the back of his neck and I see a bit of smeared blood over his forearm. “It’s- it’s okay, hard day?” I asked, twiddling my fingers anxiously, worried he was going to ask me to leave and tell me that it wasn’t a good time anymore. “Ye’” he replied in a sigh and I swallowed hard. 

“D-did you- sorry,” my voice coming out small and meek. I clear my throat “Was it- not a good time for you? It’s fine, totally, totally fine…should have given my number I guess - but I can-“ I motion my thumb to the door down the hall. 

“No! No, please, stay. It’s - it’ll be nice. To like- to see you. I meant sorry about,” he squeezes his eyes shut, shaking his head “sorry for like- flinging myself on you?” He says and I giggle, causing him to look at me.

 “I love hugs! You give great hugs, is that why your sister calls you Bear? Oh my god!! Wait. This is your- that’s so cool, Carmen! You’re so cool!” I motioned to the restaurant, alluding to the name. “That’s so fuckin cool dude!” He smiled, shoving his hands in his pockets shyly and looking at his feet. 

“Thank you, but- uh. No. I’m not…usually a hugger which is why I’m also surprised I did that, guess I needed it. They call me bear cause - well. Don’t poke the bear kinda thing” he said and I took a few steps forward, our toes almost touching and his eyes met mine again. I raise my hand, and gently poke the flower tattoo adorning his left arm with my forefinger and smile. “Gonna bite me?” I quip, lifting my hands and poking short pokes all over his chest and he laughs a bit. 

“Y’re cute” he said and I put a final poke on his nose, blush rising to my cheeks at the statement. “And very thirsty. Pour me a drink will you, bartender?” I turned around on the ball of my foot swiftly, walking with pep back into the kitchen and I look back at him, to find his eyes practically undressing me from where I’d left him moments ago. I grin, putting my hands on my hips “You staring at my ass isn’t making me any less thirsty over here, bartender!” I said and he blushes “sorry…sorry”

He comes out and places a hand at the small of my back leading me to the main part of the restaurant and towards the bar “you just - uh…you look really good. I’m sorry, I didn’t have time to get home, I wanted to but - shit just got outta control, Syd forgot about this huge cannoli order and we forgot to get the powdered sugar with the last resupply so I had to make powdered sugar - it was just-” I rub my hand up his arm gently, stopping him and grabbing his attention. 

“It’s fine Carmen. You look fine. I’ll admit, a little bit tired. But you worked all day, I’ve been there” I shrug and he nods a bit, “thanks” he said softly walking behind the bar. I get up on one of the bar stools, crossing my legs and resting my chin in my palm looking over the restaurant and tapping my nails on the table. “This place is super nice, Carm, you should be so proud of yourself. It feels fancy but inviting too.” I hum admiring the lights and artwork on the walls. 

“Why thank you, we all worked really hard. I’m surprised it came together every day, but super grateful.” He said, taking Patron off of the middle shelf and scooping ice into the mixer, counting to himself as he pours it. “Doesn’t show, you run a tight ship it sounds, Chef” I smiled. He snorts “how would you know? Or is it just the pans from earlier” he said and threw a few slices of jalapeño, lime, and mint in to the cup before closing it tightly and shaking. 

“Yes and no, Richie told me, said that you were a good boy today though, and your sister was the one causing trouble” blush creeps into his cheeks. “Ye’ and see what happens when I’m ‘good’ as you told me to do? Shit got fucked” he pours in some club soda and mixes it with a bar spoon before pouring us both a glass. “Mmmm. Was that because you weren’t barking orders, or because something happened out of your control, and you’re blaming yourself?” I asked honestly and he set my glass down in front of me, biting his lip for a moment. 

“Everything is out of my fucking control” he muttered and shook his head, as if it was a quiet, painful reminder to himself. “Most things, in most people’s lives, are out of our control” I gently rest my hand over his and he meets my eyes. “The only things you can control is if, and when you fall apart, and how well you glue yourself back together.” I said earnestly and he swallows thickly, nodding. 

“I like that..thank you” he said and I nod. “Don’t worry, I won’t charge you- this time. But d’ya think I can get a fancy umbrella or somethin’ for this drink?” I smiled and nudged it toward him, he chuckled, shaking his head “you are somethin’ else, Winnie” he crouches down behind the bar with a grunt. 

“Fuck. I’m 26 but my back feels 90” he said and I laughed a bit. “It’s all the cookin’! And being on your feet too damn much, My mom is a massage therapist, you should let me give you a massage sometime.” I said and he got back up, groaning dramatically which made me giggle. “For you, dear.” He drops a little pink umbrella into my cup. 

“Oh my goodness you poor thing. Come sit down” I pat the spot next to me and plucked my bag off the seat, hanging it off the back of my chair. He comes around the bar, plopping down in the chair next to me with a sigh of relief. “I will absolutely take you up on your massage offer sometime.” He said, rubbing over his face tiredly and running his hands through his muss of curls before taking a sip of his own drink. 

“Please do, I’ll pull out all the stops for ya’, but just so you know- a happy ending comes with a pretty cost” I said flirtatiously and nudged his leg with my boot playfully. He chuckled and looked over at me “yea? Thanks for the heads up I’ll be sure to budget accordingly for my trip to Winnie’s Massage Parlor” he teased and I laughed a bit. 

“Yess!! Please do! There’s also Winnie’s salon, Winnie's hospital, and Winnie’s library!! Come by for all your daily needs I’ma’ Jane of all trades” I shrug and take another sip of my drink. “Speaking of” I take his left arm, looking at the inner part near the crook, where 4 large scratches were, done so violently that the skin beneath was turning into a speckled bruise meaning by morning it would be a dark purple. 

“What happened?” I ask softly, my finger tip gently brushing over the untouched skin over the smeared, dried out blood below the wound. “Ahh-“ he shakes his head “it’s stupid. It’s not even bad don’t worry about it” he said and I looked at him, concerned. “Did- did Sug-“ he cuts me off quickly “Sugar, would never hurt me.” He said, his tone was deadly serious. 

I nodded quickly, swallowing hard. “Okay, Carm, I believe you” I said softly and squeezed his wrist gently. “Will you…let me take care of you- please?” I ask quietly, looking into his eyes, my gaze pleading for a yes. 

“So Winnie’s hospital is mobile?” He said with a small teasing smile. I roll my eyes playfully. “Yes, let’s go find the first aid kit, and honestly it’s pretty but like - empty in here and… I dunno” I bit my lip, hoping he got the hint and he nods “sure we - we can uh. Yeah. Let’s go sit in Sugars office. She has a couch” I nodded and hopped off the seat, gasping when the corner of it hooks onto the hem of my skirt as I get down and pulls it up, exposing my backside clad in a lacy red thong through the sheer bum part of my fleeced nylons. 

“Oh my god!” I blurt as I quickly pulled it back down, my cheeks on fire, and my heart pounding in embarrassment. I hear Carmen burst out in laughter behind me making my embarrassment grow and I turned around, crossing my arms over my chest, my eyebrows becoming furrowed. “Hey!” I snip “what’s so funny!! Why were you looking peeping tom!” I whine and he covers his mouth to stifle the laughter. 

“To make sure your munchkin self didn’t trip off of the stool in those clunky ass boots!! Being a gentleman really paid off for me there” he said and I went over slapping his arm gently with a smile growing on my face. “I guess it’s a good thing I wore panties or I would’ve mooned you” I grab my drink and turn around, a surprised chuckle coming from him. 

“Holy shit, you go commando?” He asks, holding the kitchen door open for me “sometimes, she needs to breathe!!” I said with a shrug and pushed my bag up on my shoulder as I followed him back to Sugars office. “But what if you get horny?” He asked and I laughed, nudging him with my elbow. “Dude!! Richie said you were not forward with girls, that’s pretty forward” I set my bag down on sugars desk and he plops down on the big comfy sofa pulling out a recliner on his side and he sighs, closing his eyes. 

“Gimme a sec’ this is the first time my feet are up since 1” he said and I sat down next to him, “you haven’t sat down since I left?!” I asked and he shook his head, opening his eyes and head falling to the side on the cushion to look at me. “Mm-mm” he hummed in response. “Where’s the first aid kit? I’ll find it” I said and he rubs his face, thinking. 

“Uhhh. Oh there’s one in here actually, go over to the other side of Sug’s desk, it should be tucked there next to the wall” he said and took a sip of his drink. I got up, going where he said and I leaned over, completely forgetting the rules of skirts by mistake. “You’re a fucking tease” he said lowly and my heart pounds, my stomach fluttering wildly, and my core beginning to twitch and throb in excitement. 

“What’s not nice about helping a new friend clean up their boo-boo’s?” I asked innocently, a small smile on my lips as I turned and sat down on the couch on the cushion next to him. He smirks “you…are gonna make me crazy” he said softly and closed his eyes, resting his head on the back of the sofa. I opened the kit, taking out hand sanitizer, saline wipes, gauze, and triple antibiotic. 

“Wait-“ he said his eyes flickering open “you- you met Richie?” He asks as if I hadn’t been mentioning him since I walked in the door, my eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “It’s like- the first thing I said when I got here.” I said and he sighs softly. “I’m…sorry.” He finally said, like he was contemplating whether to say more. “That’s ok, you had a hard day” I took his arm gently, laying it across my lap. “What did he say? How bad did he embarrass me?” He questions and I giggle a bit, sanitizing my hands before opening a saline wipe. 

“Not at all! He said you’re shy with girls, that he’s surprised you asked me out cause he thinks I’m pretty, and apparently, doesn’t think you are very funny- but I on the other hand, seemed to make him laugh a lot so- got you beat” I teased with a smile as I ever gently wipe over the wounds. 

He snorts “well, you are pretty, he’s an asshole but right.” He said and I looked up at him “not many people make me laugh anymore, you seem to, though.” I said honestly, and he tugs his lip between his teeth to catch a grin from taking over his features. “Yea?” He asks quietly with a blush going across the bridge of his nose and cheeks. “Mmhmm” I hum in reply, putting the ointment on and carefully rubbing it in. 

It was quiet for a moment before he says “I’m sorry.” Causing me to look up at him, but his gaze was stuck on the ceiling. “This wasn’t - I wanted to do something nice for you and… I’m sorry.” I stop working on his arm “sorry for what, Carm? This is so nice. The drink is really good, thank you for making it, I’m glad to be here.” I said honestly and placed my hand on top his. 

His icy blue eyes meet mine, looking over my face slowly and locking on my lips. His eyes flick back to mine when he responds “you just look so pretty, like you should be on a real date. Not here fuckin-“ he sighs, looking down at his arm then back at me. “Dealing with my stupid mistake.” I shook my head and wrapped up his arm with a bandage to keep it clean and dry while he slept and it could scab over. 

“This is a real date. You own a restaurant. Carmen. Look at me.” I order and he looks into my eyes. “You, just you, asking me to come see you, to be together, to get to know each other? You are enough. This is a date. An awesome date. I’m having fun, are you having fun?” I asked and he smiled a bit. 

“No, but….” He trails off, looking at his lap and I felt my heart physically ache, my face drooping “peace” he finally said “I feel…at peace, with you around. I noticed it when we were outside earlier, I came out for a smoke cause I was about to absolutely loose it on Syd, and I don’t- I- I can’t do that to her. So I went out and I totally forgot my light and then..you were there and I forgot about everything.” He said. 

Goosebumps arise on my skin at the admission, the warmth in my chest returning at full force. “And - I thought about you…all day- all-all day. Not like- god I sound like a creep” he takes his arm, rubbing his face in embarrassment. “I thought about you too.” I reply softly. “I thought about you…a lot. Actually.” I bit my lip and his eyes met mine, searching for truth and it was all he found in my locked gaze. 

“Not like- I just couldn’t understand how I felt. But the more I think… I do this thing.” He rubs his chin as he thinks. “Learned it in therapy, they said when you can’t figure out how a person or a situation made you feel, you can like think of people and situations that you do know how you feel about, and keep comparing them until you find a match. S-so when I thought of you.” He swallows thickly and I sit up, completely entrenched in listening to him. 

“I found that things that gave me the same feelings w-were like…my one day off a week that I don’t have to be here. I think of…the fucking morning I went to Central Park and watched the sunrise and it was so..so quiet. I think- I think” he presses his lips together. “O-of-of Mikey. Of my brother. He’s dead. But. H-he. He protected me a lot, growin’ up. Helped me out. A lot. I felt like when Mikey was around, it was alright. And that’s how I felt earlier. I’m sorry-“ he shakes his head, putting the recliner down and finishing off his drink. 

“Why?” I ask and squeeze his hand “that’s…so, so sweet. You make me feel at peace too, unless you’re angry- but I was worried for you and what happened. I’m so happy I make you feel like that, Carmen. Thank you for sharing, may I hug you?” I ask gently and he looks at me a bit surprised. “Y-yea ‘fcourse c’mere” he opened his arms and I wrapped him in a warm embrace. “The way you make me laugh makes me feel the way my brother did when he made me laugh, we were twins. He died.” I said just above a whisper. 

He rests his cheek on the top of my head, rubbing soothing circles in my back as I did for him earlier. “I’m so sorry, what was his name?” He asked, equally as quiet. “Chris, Christopher” I felt my lip quiver, that never dulling ache in my chest throbbing at the memory of him. 

“Oh, wow” he whispered “Winnie and Christopher” I felt him smiling on my hair “your parents knew what they were doin’ with names, that’s adorable.” He said and I smiled a bit. “Thank you, can you guess what our nursery was?” I look up at him and he raises his eyebrows. 

“Hmm.. let me think. Oh! I know, Dumbo?” He says sarcastically and I laugh, closing my eyes and nuzzling my face in his neck “Silly. Winnie the Pooh, I always said it was my room, because they had a big wall sticker of Winnie and all his animal friends, but not one of Christopher since they couldn’t find one. He hated that” I said and his fingers gently rubbed over the spot of bare skin between my skirt and my top. I feel him chuckle a bit “that’s cute” he said. 

“How did Mikey…” I trail off, his fingers stilling. “Shot ‘emself” he said plainly and my hug around his torso tightens “I’m so sorry” I whisper in to his skin. “What about Chris?” He asked and I swallowed thickly. “We got in a motorcycle accident. I still can’t talk about it.” I said as evenly and emotionlessly as I could, if I opened that flood gate there was no shutting it. 

“Oh- my god. Wow. I’m so sorry, I’m so glad you’re….” He trails off, realizing the other victim was very much not ok in any sense of the word. I sit up, taking my half full drink off the table and drinking it down in 3 big gulps. “Want another?” He asks and I shake my head, “work tomorrow” I said and he nods, “yeah me too” he muttered rubbing over his face. 

“Can I…get your number?” I asked and he nodded sitting up “course you can” he said and took his phone out of his pocket, logged in and opened up a new contact screen, offering it to me. “Only if I can have yours” he said with a small smile. “Of course!!” I took it from him. 

Winnie 🍯  

I put as the contact name, and type in my number, hitting save before handing it back. I do the same for him on my phone and hand it to him, when it’s returned, I see 

Carm🐻 

I smile, deleting the emoji and switching it for a 🧸 instead. I show him with a tilt of my wrist “cause your awesome hugs.” I said and smiled, saving it again. He blushes, smiling and shaking his head “I think you’re the one who gives good hugs, you smell like honey and you’re all soft.” He said and I giggle. “I’m glad you like my perfume” I said and pushed my hair behind my shoulders. 

“I do, it’s very nice. You live around here?” He asks and I nod “2 blocks that-a-way” I point behind us and he raises his eyebrows. “Really, what street?” He asked “Kensington Ave. The brownstones” I said and he chuckled “No shit. I live in the high rise across the way” he said and my mouth drops. “Wow. Work neighbors, and building neighbors, we’ve never met?” I giggle “you've been avoiding me?” I ask and he chuckles “never, uhh. I’m like never home. I go there to sleep for a few hours, and my days off I…sleep…the whole day usually, I usually get home around 1am and leave at like 4ish, sometimes 5 if I sleep in” I raise my eyebrows in disbelief. 

“3 hours of sleep and you wonder why you feel 90? You need to sleep Carmen. You’re gonna have a heart attack.” I said and he chuckled. “If I would only be that lucky'' he joked, taking our empty glasses to the kitchen and I followed him “no- i'm serious, like you’re gonna drive yourself nuts.” I said, leaning on the counter watching him wash the glasses. 

“I am already there sweetheart don’t worry, been there- ahh let’s see, 20? Maybe 19. So 7 years of insanity give or take.” He said and I giggled, shaking my head. “You are not nuts. A crazy person couldn’t run a restaurant.” I said and he snorted “that speaking is the mind of someone who doesn’t work in a restaurant. No, you have to be a psycho to do this shit. Especially at the level I do it.” He shuts off the sink, putting the cups on the drying rack and leaning on his elbows on the table mirroring me from across. 

“I think you’re very, very passionate.” I brush his curls from his eyes “and that you sometimes get in your own way by not allowing people to help you.. which can make things harder” I said and he smiled, amusedly. “How do you already know so much about me, have you been stalking and avoiding me so I don’t find out?” He teases and I laugh. “Shut up, no. I have not. I dunno… like our souls know each other. That’s how I feel.” I shrug, crossing my hands under my chin and looking at him. 

“Hmm” he says. “Do you believe in past lives?” He asks and I nod “for sure. And future ones. I don’t think we can learn everything in one go that our souls need” I shrug and he nods a bit. “We need to talk more about this when I don’t have a pounding headache from being so overtired” he said softly and I pout, “c'mon let’s walk home.” I said and headed back to the office to grab my things. 

“I just have to go to the back and get my stuff gimme a few” he said from the kitchen. I waited by the island, shawl back on and bag on my shoulder. When he comes back out, my breath gets caught in my throat. Hes wearing delicious light grey sweatpants, blue Nike sneakers, and a plain white champion hoodie. As he lifted his arms to put his backpack on, the hoodie rode up, revealing his tight, toned stomach, and deep, deep V line. I lick my lips, imagining myself on my knees worshiping his god-like figure and he clears his throat. 

I looked up again, realizing he completely caught me red handed checking him out like the hottest new library book and I felt my cheeks heat, giving a shy smile. “Ready?” He asked and I nod “ready” I said meekly, mentally face palming for my lack of discretion. “Y’know it’s not a bad thing to check me out, right? I guess for earlier you can call us even” He asked as we walked down the hallway and I nearly tripped over my own feet at the boldness. “Fuck you” I roll my eyes playfully and he opens the door for me. 

“I’m a little tired right now, but for you? Anything. Your place or mine?” He asked and I laughed, slapping his chest playfully “you are a naughty, naughty little boy” I teased, wrapping my arms around his bicep as we walked. “Just letting you know allll the ways this glorious date could end” he said, a smug smirk on his face and I shook my head, looking at the sidewalk. 

This was so nice. I usually am needing to check behind me every couple steps, am tensing at every noise or stranger I pass, but with Carmen I feel protected. Secure. 

“I’ve never actually been able to enjoy this at night, I’m always looking over my shoulder wondering if I need to get my switchblade out” I chuckle shaking my head. “Switchblade? Damn. Can I see it?” He asks and I nod, digging in my purse and pulling out the pink knife attached with a MyMelody keychain to a can of mace. 

I pulled away from him, hopping a few steps ahead.  “Everybody watch out! I’m a woman that’s armed and dangerous!!” I giggle, clicking the little button and the hello kitty blade swings out with a click. He laughs, and I faced him, waving it around the air in front of me lightly “what’s so funny huh? I’m menacing Carmen, imagine I mugged you right now with a hello kitty knife” I said, causing him to laugh harder, clutching his stomach. 

“Oh my god - please” he snorts in laughter causing me to laugh. “Awww little piggy!!” I teased and he gasps pretending to be offended. “okay! Rude! You better not snort ever or you’ll be the piggy miss” he said making me start laughing again “you are at my mercy right now, sir, have you so easily forgotten?” I gently wave the pewny knife in front of his face. 

“Oh you sweet thing. I know you wouldn’t hurt a fly.” He plucks it from my fingers easily, closing it. “Only because I have the strongest little chef in all of Chicago to protect me. My knight in sexy gray sweatpants and a white sweatshirt” I mused, a playful smile dancing on my lips. “Mmm ok we’re getting there. I don’t like the little part, but- we’ll get there” he joked, dropping the knife back in my purse. 

“Oh, yeah?” I said, grabbing his arm again as we continued, our buildings come in to view. One of my hands trains down his arm, slinking my fingers to wrap between his. “Mmhmm” he hummed. 

I stopped again, standing in front of him and wrapping my arms around his neck loosely, standing on my tip-toes even in my heels to reach his ear. “I think that you know, that I know, you’re the sexiest, most hard working, passionate, gentleman - that I’ve ever had the pleasure of having a chance with. And I also think that you know, I have bratty tendencies, and love pulling your chain because I know it gets you going. You wanna know what I’m 100% sure of, though?” My sultry hot breath caused goosebumps to come up on his neck, his hands wrapping around my waist and squeezing gently. “Was’ that baby” he said softly, his voice laced with desire. I lace my fingers in his hair, gently tugging at his frizzy curls from the day. 

“I’m sure that you need a brat. Because what you need, Carmy.” I nibbled at his ear gently. His breath hitches in his throat, biting his lip to silence a soft moan. I wasn’t quite sure where all of this raw confidence and honesty was coming from, likely from the strong drink Carmy had made and my being a lightweight.

 “Is to be able to force someone in their place, and have full unrelinquished control over the entire situation. For someone to give themselves to you, be fully yours. To use. To love. To worship. Whatever you desire. Cause you’re a control freak. But that’s sexy, that’s soo sexy. I love a man who knows what he needs” I place a soft, lingering kiss on his racing pulse point. 

His hands trail down, cupping my ass before squeezing roughly and I moan softly at the contact. His hands were so strong, so large, but somehow the touch was still lacking confidence. “C-can I” he says softly, “can I kiss you, please?” He whispers. I lift my face to meet his, our noses brushing as I rest my forehead on his, looking into his eyes. His pupils were blown wide from both the dark and lust, the only peak of blue being a tiny sliver. 

“That depends,” I said with a smirk adorning my lips, I nuzzle my nose against his gently. “Will you kiss me how you want, Carm? Or how you think I want?” I ask and he licks his lips. “I want to make you happy” he whispers, I twirl a curl at the base of his neck around my finger. “It will make me happy, if you take what you want from me” I whispered. 

Before I could blink, his lips were on mine, kissing me hungrily- a war of tongue and lips, my fingers tightening around his hair and tugging smiling proudly when he moaned into my mouth. His hands trail my skirt, lifting it slightly to massage my backside in his hands wantingly. I let him take me, dominate me, own me in that moment, matching his hot feverish kisses as well as the sweet, gentle ones. We only broke apart to breathe, our chests rising and falling at an equal rapid pace. His lips were slick from our kiss, swollen from the rough encounter. He was beautiful. 

The only sound was the infrequent car passing, or the sound of the crickets that had made their homes in the small patches of grass on the side of the sidewalk that housed the trees. 

“I want you to come to family”

Read Chapter 5 Here!

 

[tainted-liquor]

Grande Jeté⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚

Hobie Brown x BlackFem!Ballerina!Reader Tws: BADDDD British, light swearing, Ingredients: Sugar, Kisses, and a lil bit of smiles! (fluff) W/C:950 A/N: Heyyy! pls forgive me bro I know 0 Londoners, n I have no idea how to write their accent lol. BEAARRR WITH ME😭

Hobie never expected in his life that he would be in this predicament. Here he was, sitting alongside Gwen as she eagerly ranted to him about her 'older sister' being in this dance. She spent about two days convincing Hobie to go with her, saying that he would be supporting an aspiring artist. "It's about to start!" Gwen cheered silently, clapping her hands quickly before pointing to the red curtains ascending upwards. "There she is!" Gwen whispered as she pointed towards your flexed form, spine curving upward as your back leg extended out behind you as your arms create a sleek invisible line between the tips of your fingers and the bottom of your toes.

He was absolutely enchanted. He had never seen someone make ballet look so sacred in his eyes, brushing off the silly dance as a bunch of jumps and turns. He watched as you slowly began to break free from your frozen stance, moving with such calculated precision and absolute elegance. It was like he was watching the performance through a tunnel, eyes glued on you and you only as you pirouetted with such grace it put every princess in the world to absolute shame. He had heard from Gwen first-hand just how painful it was to do ballet, but watching you twist and turn on the very tips of your toes put everything into perspective. In his mind, you were a precious dove ghosting the surface of the water with your pretty pink pointe shoes.

"Gwendy, you said this's one of your mates, right?" He asked, eyes still absolutely glued to you. Gwen gave him an overjoyed nod, clearly biting back the loudest scream of approval she's ever given. "Introduce me later, yea?" He mumbled as he watched you shoot Gwen a rather smooth wave, disguising it within your movements to not stray from your routine...Man, you were good. You looked absolutely bewitching as your melanated skin shone under the spotlight, your movements remaining soft and delicate whilst carrying yourself with such poise. If Gwen would've told Hobie about you earlier he would've bought the damn tickets himself.

When up on that stage, you always felt free and liberated. You spent all of your life in a studio, accepting every drop of boiling-hot criticism with cupped palms, watching as it burned and seared your skin and leave its metaphorical mark that manifested in the form of experience. You incorporated the elegant style of dance into your everyday life, weaving the very threads of its history into your personality and wearing it like a proud necklace. For you, dancing was your very being. You spent countless nights banging shoes on your walls, patching up your battered and bruised legs countless times until only a ghost of feeling remained in the tips of your toes. You've learned to crawl, then stumble, then walk, run, and finally jump all in the span of over 10+ years.

You followed the inaudible signals in the ever-so-soothing piano, utilizing the cues that you had ingrained into the back of your mind as you assumed each and every position and pose. You were in a fuck ton of pain, and you were out of breath, but what's a little bit of hurt compared to a dream 10 years in the making? When the curtains finally closed after everyone took their final bow, the roaring applause made everything worth every single twinge of pain. You eagerly ran off the stage, enveloping Gwen in a tight hug as she introduced you to the incredibly tall and lanky man next to her. The clash between the two of you was starkly obvious, with you being dressed in shades of pink, ivory, and soft beiges that complimented every aspect of your outfit.

"'Ey there, I'm 'Obie" he stated as he gave me a small smile, extending his hand towards me gently, to which I gladly accept. Truth be told, I didn't understand half of a fuck of what he just said. I pulled a smile and nod and used context clues to fill in the gaps. "That's a nice accent...where you from?" you asked with a warm smile. He gives a light chuckle before answering with a small "East London. You were really great out there, by the way. Kick n' prance queen!"

"Thank you! You should drop by my studio sometime, you can watch me and Gwen practice for future shows or just for funsies!" I exclaim with a light giggle. I scanned over Hobie, making a mental note of his rough and sharp look that contrasted with my very being. He reminded me of a black swan, gorgeous and elegant in his own way, but almost twice as intimidating. I wouldn't be lying if I said I truly loved the difference in our aesthetics.

"I tried, but he says that he doesn't-" Gwen begins, with Hobie quickly silencing her by just straight up grabbing her mouth. "Yea, I'd like that. I'll see you la'er then!" He grins as he slowly drags Gwen away, giving you a small wave and a goofy grin as I disappear backstage to change into some normal clothes and deconstruct my makeup.

"You didn't tell me that was the gyaldem you ran wif" Hobie chuckled as he shot Gwen a playful glare. "Well, I TRIED. But you started going on about how you," She dropped her voice an octave, linking a synthetic British accent to her every word. "Don't believe in paying to watch performances!" She teased. Hobie only rolled his eyes, pretending to brush off the matter. But in reality, he couldn't wait to see you again and watch you dance in all your glory.

"So...when's she dancing again?"

[bloatedandalone04]

Crash Course - Part 2

Series Masterlist

➪the one where you and hayden are officially together, on and off the track.

PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.

WC; 5.6k | Part 1 | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

Seven months since your massive failure in front of hundreds of people, and seven months since you met Hayden. 

You wished you could bring yourself to be embarrassed about the whole event, but it was the result of a deal you made with him, and it ended with you and him being wrapped around each other’s fingers. 

Tonight was supposed to be packed as well, and the drivers were encouraged to head out onto the track a bit earlier than normal, but that still didn’t stop Hayden from taking you by the hand and dragging you into one of the empty concession stands for a quickie. 

That’s where you are now, pressed up against the wall next to an out of order vending machine. Hayden kept your body pinned to the wall with his own, his hips rocking into yours at a pace that had your head spinning, and the two of you were still fully clothed.

You should have seen this coming, really. 

Since you were in a serious relationship and had even moved in together a few months back, you drove to the track together to save some money on gas. And so you didn’t have to spend time away from one another.  

Seven months in and you were still so obsessed with each other, it was like a never ending honeymoon phase.

You teased him during the whole ride here, so he needed to get out his sexual frustrations before he went on the track for the rest of the night, and luckily you were more than willing to help him out. 

“Fuck,” he muttered against the skin of your neck, your jacket had long since been removed for the sole purpose of him wanting to mark you up before the race. Hayden had already left countless hickeys on your shoulders and neck, all of which would be covered by your jumpsuit later, so there wasn’t a need to make a fuss about the way he was tainting your skin with his mouth. 

Your hands thread through his hair as he fucked into you, lifting his head so you could press your lips to his. “Oh, fuck, you’re so good,” you praise quietly, not wanting to alert any potential wanderers who entered the venue just outside the stand. “So good.”

Hayden groaned loudly, seemingly unbothered at the very real fact that you and he could get caught doing this by one of the many workers, crew members, or fans that had shown up. “So tight,” he commented, dipping his head down so he could watch the way his slick covered dick fucked in and out of you. “No matter how many times I fuck you, you’re still so tight.”

His words turn you on even more and you tip your head back further, the action making the sales poster that was pinned to the wall behind you crumple a bit. “God,” you whimper, tugging at the hairs on the back of his neck that were peeking out from his snapback that had the track’s logo etched onto it. “Hayden.”

He grunted, his fingers digging into the underside of your thighs as he hikes you up further, making your free hand shoot out to grip the wall. A couple of posters that had the menu for the stand on them were ripped from their tacks and fell to the floor when you steadied yourself, your legs locking even tighter around his waist. “Fuck, you feel so good,” he praised. “You’re so perfect.”

“Harder,” you quietly beg, moving your hand from the wall and knocking the hat off his head. While you absolutely loved the way he looked when he wore the hat backwards, you loved the feeling of his hair between your fingers even more. “Please, Hayden, give it to me harder.”

Hayden lifted his head so he could meet your lust filled gaze, and he knew his eyes held the same look in them. “You want me to fuck you hard, pretty girl?” He asked, tightening his hold on you as he pressed his hips to yours, making him go as deep as he possibly could. 

The small box he had in his pocket poked him, and he could only hope that you wouldn’t call him out on what it was. You would find out later tonight. 

He stilled his thrusts and locked his jaw at the way you throbbed and pulsated around him, your walls desperate for him to keep fucking into you. “Want it rough? Like this?”

When he gives a single sharp thrust, you cry out and grip his hair tighter, feeling the way your body shook with need. “Yes, fuck, yes. Just like that,” you moan loudly when he resumes the movements of his hips, going at the same pace as before but much harder, like you begged him to do. “God, you’re so deep. I love you so much, Hayden, fuck.”

He grinned at you, pressing his lips to yours as he rocked into you. “I love you,” he said in between noisy kisses. “My hot, needy girl.”

What a hypocrite. He was the one who couldn’t keep his hands to himself. He was the one who pulled you into the out of order concession stand as soon as you arrived at the tracks. But it was no secret that his hypocrisy was what started your relationship, with him going on about how much you wanted him, when in reality, he wanted you just as much. Maybe even more.

“We have to be on the track soon,” you weakly remind him as blackspots begin to cloud your vision. With Hayden, it was never just a quick fuck. The word didn’t exist in his vocabulary. If he was taking you, he was taking you at his own pace and he didn’t care who had to wait on him. 

There was, however, one way to get him closer a bit faster when you were in a rush. You discovered that Hayden was a sucker for hearing you beg for him to knock you up. You were on the pill and definitely not ready for kids yet, and you weren’t trying for them, but he was obsessed with the idea of you carrying his baby. 

Despite only being together for less than a year, you had talked about it, briefly. You both decided that you weren’t going to try for kids until you reached your late twenties, right around the four year relationship mark. 

“Yeah?” He teasingly asked, making no effort to pick up the pace. “Well, I guess they’ll just have to wait. There’s no way they would start without their two best drivers.”

“Hayden,” you purr, sucking on the skin below his ear. “I want you to make me come, then I want you to come in me.”

He groaned and tipped his head back, bracing himself with one hand flat against the wall beside you. The sight of his physical strength, and the fact that he was able to easily hold you up with only one hand, had you repressing a cry of his name. “Fuck,” he muttered, his hips stuttering when he felt you clench around him, your walls sucking him in deeper. “You want me to make you come, huh, baby? All over me?”

You nodded, biting your lip when you heard the sounds of footsteps right outside the door of the small room you were in. “Yes,” you answer in a whisper. “I want it so bad, Hayden. Please.”

He moaned at the sound of you begging for him to make you come, your words only fueling his desire for you. “I want it, too, princess,” he rasped, pressing you impossibly closer to the wall. “I want to feel you, all over me. I want it everywhere, make it messy.”

You cry out as you come, clamping down tightly around him as you squeezed your eyes shut. You pull him towards you with a hand placed on the back of his head, and he nuzzles his face against your neck. 

As he continued to fuck into you, the sounds of your wet walls still taking him was all that could be heard, mixed with your whimpers and his grunts. You couldn’t even bring yourself to be embarrassed about it, and Hayden had never let you feel embarrassed about it, as he loved how worked up he got you everytime. 

“You hear that, baby?” He asked, grinning at the way your core noisily took him in. “Hear how fucking needy I made you? How good I made you feel?” 

You nodded, whimpering softly when his hips began to slow, indicating that he was close, too. “Please, Hayden,” you beg quietly, your hands moving to gently run up his back. “I want you to come for me. Let me feel you, right in here.” 

You press your palm to your lower stomach, feeling the movement of him inside you pushing back against your hand. His jaw went slack as he looked down at your abdomen, seeing the faintest outline of himself deep within you. “Baby,” he choked out, speeding up just slightly and taking in the quiet whine you let out due to your sensitivity. “Fuck, baby, I’m gonna come.”

“Please,” you encourage him, clenching hard around him to coax out his release. “I want you to, need to feel it.”

Hayden lets out a throaty groan as his hips meet yours for the final time before he is spilling into you. Heavy pants leave his mouth as he slowly pulls out before pushing back in, making sure his come reached the deepest part of you. 

He looked up at you with hooded eyes, a tired grin on his lips. “We just got here and I’m already exhausted,”

You laugh, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “Don’t wear yourself out too much,” you say, smoothing out his messy hair. “You need to focus on not crashing tonight.”

“Says you,” he teased, keeping himself buried in you as he peppered your lips with kisses. “You’re the one who crashed the night I met you.”

Rolling your eyes, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him into an embrace. “But look where that got me in the end,”

Hayden grinned against your neck, lifting his head to place a lingering kiss to your mouth. “Where you belong,” he murmured. “With me. I love you.”

“I love you,” 

Before any further words could be shared between you, the voice of the announcer came through the speaker. “Drivers numbers five and thirty four, please report to the maintenance garage for the team meeting,” 

You laughed against his mouth, the faintest hint of a blush spreading across your face as Hayden finally set you down, a lazy grin on his own lips as he bent down to retrieve his hat from off the floor. 

-

After the standard team meeting you had to do before going onto the track, Hayden kept his hand on your lower back as he guided you towards your car, his other holding onto his neon helmet. His own car was further down the line as he would be starting closer to the middle, while you’ll be starting on the outside of the first row. 

Walking you to your car before every race had become a natural routine for Hayden. It allowed him to see you one last time before he was on the track, and also gave him the opportunity to trash talk you a bit just for fun. 

He leaned against the side of your car as you pulled back the netting, watching as you lifted yourself up and slid in through the window. “Don’t crash,” he says as he leans down to level his head with yours. “Everyone knows how good you are at doing that. Show them something different for once.”

Even though you hadn’t had a serious crash since the one you were in on the night you met him, he still loved to tease you about it, despite him knowing just how good of a driver you actually are. “Haha,” you reply in a flat tone. “Funny you say that since you’ve spent every Saturday training with me since we met.”

He just shakes his head, grabbing your red helmet from off the top of your car. “Good luck, princess,” he said with a smile, handing it to you through the window. 

“Good luck,” you say back, moving to kiss him quickly when he dipped his head further down. He fixes the netting on the window frame before heading towards his own car, his nerves rising as he hears the loud cheers of the fans. 

Though he was good at hiding it, he still got nervous before every race, but his adrenaline usually overpowered it. Ever since he met you, he had become even more nervous about racing. Not only did he have himself to worry about on the track, but he now had you to worry about as well.

Sure, you were a great driver and hadn’t spun out in months, he still worried that the other drivers would grow sick of always being behind you and do something to get the advantage. While you never cared to get to know the other drivers, Hayden took the time to speak to a few of them, and the ones he spoke to were aggressive both on and off the track.

That was to be expected, though, as most racers only did this to let out some steam and frustration, while Hayden and you did it for fun. 

The stands were packed, he noticed, when he was finally told he could pull out onto the track. There were only three races left of the season before the track closed for the winter, so it wasn’t too surprising to see that there were no empty spaces on the bleachers. 

These last few races were well-anticipated, and they counted the most out of all of them because it would be the last time the drivers got to do this until the beginning of next summer. 

The first race went well, with Hayden finishing in first and you in third, and the second one went even better, with Hayden in first again and you in second. The finale was next, and they would be pulling the best drivers from the first and second heats. Of course, you were both picked. 

As the season went on, the races became more intense. For this final race, it would consist of twenty laps and eighteen cars in total, both from the bone stocks and the late models. It was a little nerve wracking, especially since Hayden was put in the fourth row from the front on the inside, and he didn’t know where you were.

You had to be somewhere behind him, but not knowing just how far was making him feel uneasy. He always liked having you in his sights, so to not know where you were was not calming his racing heart.

He had never been involved in this big of a race before. The most he’s ever taken part in is fourteen cars and that’s it. He knew this was new for you, as well, and he knew you had to be just as anxious as he was. 

After following the pace truck for a few laps, the driver pulled off into the infield and the race began. 

It was intense at first, but Hayden regained his control and was able to secure a spot in second place. As he kept up a steady pace, he did his best to glance behind him in hopes to catch a glimpse of you. It was hard to do, seeing as he had a helmet on, a net over the window, and had to make sure he didn’t go off the track, but he couldn’t help it. 

He glanced back a few times and didn’t see you, making him a bit worried that you had been placed too far behind to be able to catch up in time. It was so like them to put the good drivers further back to give the less experienced drivers a fair chance. Hayden himself once had to go from last place to first in a twenty lap race, and it was a tough thing to do. 

As he went around one of the turns, he finally caught sight of your red and white Ford, and he felt like he could relax a bit now and focus on his driving. You were a few cars behind him, and as he passed the speakers, he heard the announcer say that you had gone from thirteenth to fifth. 

He also heard him say the name of the driver behind him, Ian Mackey.

Hayden had never heard of the guy before, so he was left to come to the conclusion that Ian was from the late model heat. He was proven right when he looked back and saw the kind of car this guy was driving. 

He also noticed just how aggressive he was. Ian was pretty much tailgating Hayden, which was a bit unnecessary at this point because they were reaching the twelfth lap now, and most of the cars were decently spread out on the track. 

As he sped up a bit, Hayden was once again beginning to feel nervous about the fact that you were back there with this aggressive guy. 

Surprisingly enough, Ian did nothing to stop you as you passed him and drove behind Hayden. It should’ve made an alarm go off in your head, but you weren’t aware of how he was driving before you passed him. 

It was somewhat calm for the next few laps, until you reached the seventeenth. While you were going around the corner, Ian, instead of trailing behind you like he had been doing for the past few minutes now, drove straight in an attempt to cut you off.

There was a reason no one ever attempted to pass when turning, and this was exactly why. 

The front of his car hit the back of yours hard and the sudden impact had you powerless to do anything as you tried to correct, but the damage had been done. You knew better than to slam on the brakes, but before you could even do that, you were upside down and felt every hit of your body against the interior of the car. 

Your head was pounding and your vision was blurry, but you were granted the gift of feeling nothing at all when your car slammed into the barriers, rightside up, but badly damaged. Your body went numb and your head was spinning before you let it fall back against the seat, your eyes falling shut as you listened to the sound of cars speeding past you fade out. 

Hayden, who had heard the whole thing but hadn’t seen it, felt his heart drop when he caught sight of the smoke and dust that formed behind him. He wasn’t sure who exactly had been hit, but when he went around the other corner and saw that it was you, he felt his blood run cold. 

He barely pulled off to the side before he was ripping the netting off the frame and tossing his helmet somewhere in his car. He pulled himself out through the window and sprinted across the track, his ears ringing as the other drivers had to swerve to avoid hitting him. 

The red flag was held up and the other cars slowed to a stop on various parts of the track when he finally reached you. A couple of men from the clean up crew were already there and had pulled the netting off the window. He could briefly hear them trying to talk to you, but you weren’t responding.

“Get her out,” Hayden yelled at them as he watched one of the guys reach into your car to unclip the seatbelt. “Get her out of there, now!”

“Calm down, Christensen,” another guy said, stepping back when Hayden pushed away the comforting hand he tried to place on his shoulder. “We can’t pull her out until the paramedics get over here.”

Hayden shook his head and ran his hand through his slightly damp hair, but that was when he caught sight of Ian, whose car was a few metres behind yours and had undoubtedly caused the whole thing. “You motherfuck-” Hayden was pulled back once the crew guy caught onto the fact that he was on his way over to Ian. The man, whose name tag read Nick, grabbed Hayden’s shoulders and hauled him away from Ian, who almost looked proud at what he caused. 

“Cut it out, Hayden,” Nick tried to say, but he wasn’t having it. 

“You fucking asshole,” Hayden yelled while Nick guided him further away. “You fucking-” he cut himself off and held onto Nick’s arms when he felt his knees almost give out as he watched the paramedics lift you out of your totaled car. 

You still had your helmet on, but your hands were bruised and had spots of blood all over them, and your eyes were closed. They set you gently down on the ground as the other paramedics worked on getting the stretcher out, and Hayden finally found his footing as he ran the few steps over to you. 

He fell to his knees, surely ripping a hole or two into his jumpsuit, and grabbed your left hand in his. “Y/n,” he said desperately, heating up at the many eyes on him, and from the bright spotlights that had been turned on since it was nearing ten at night. He tuned out the voices of the fans and the flashing lights of the tow trucks around him as he tried to get you to open your eyes. “Baby.”

He could see from the visor part of your helmet that your face was a bit bloody, but nothing could’ve prepared him for when they slowly removed the helmet from your head. 

Your lower lip was busted and it was clear that your teeth had gone through it, probably on impact, and your nose was shedding a steady stream of blood. There were a few scrapes scattered all over your face, all of which were also bleeding, and he could barely see your actual skin tone through all of the redness. 

He shared a look with the paramedic, who looked beyond concerned at your current state, and that did not help Hayden stay any calmer as he gripped your hand even tighter. “Y/n,” he called out to you again, his heart going into overdrive when you still didn’t answer him. “Talk to me, baby, please.” He begged but to no avail. 

He stood up when a neck brace was placed around you and watched as they lifted you onto the stretcher. They took you into the back of the ambulance, and Hayden took the time to observe the state of your car. The back end was caved in from the impact of Ian’s car, and there were several large dents that pretty much told everyone that there was no fixing it. 

There was a big dent on the driver’s side door, and despite the multiple layers of steel that were built in to prevent it from harming the driver, all the layers were pushed into the car, meaning you had most likely been impaled by the sharp metal.

“Oh, fuck,” he heard the paramedic say, making Hayden turn to look over at him as they stood over your body. Your jumpsuit was unzipped and pulled down to bunch around your waist, and the white tee you were wearing underneath was stained red. “We need to get her to the hospital.”

His eyes widened at that and when the man gestured for Hayden to get into the ambulance with them, he never moved so quickly in his life as he hauled himself up and sat next to you.

He completely abandoned the rest of the race to go with you to the hospital, but he was sure it would have gotten cancelled, anyway, due to the extreme damage that had been done.

Hayden took your left hand in both of his once again as they hooked up your right arm to an IV, his eyes flickering all over your face. 

His heart was beating a million miles a minute as he watched the slow rise and fall of your chest. “Stay with me,” he pleaded quietly, afraid to touch you anywhere other than your hand right now. 

He tore his eyes away from your face when they pulled your shirt up and exposed the puncture wound on your ribcage. That had to have been from the metal of the door, and he was sure if he looked hard enough, he would have seen blood in both your car and on the padding of your helmet. 

“How much further?” He asked, his voice breaking as he tried to keep his tears at bay. 

“Less than ten minutes,” the man answered, but that was too long.

You needed help, now, but what could he do?

Nothing.

He just held your hand up to his mouth, not caring that your blood now coated his lips due to the shaky kiss he pressed to your skin. 

-

You were met with bland walls and a dull ache in your head when you opened your eyes. The lights in the room were dimmed, but it still caused the dull ache to progress into what felt like a migraine. 

When you lifted your hand, you noticed the pulse oximeter that was clipped onto your index finger. You try to sit up, but immediately stop when you feel a pain shoot through your body. 

Your torso was itchy and it felt like there was a bandage wrapped around your ribs, but you didn’t bother trying to scratch at it, too scared to feel that sudden jolt of pain again. 

Your face was sore, too, and you could see the red scrapes on your cheeks through your reflection in the window next to the bed. It was dark out, so it must be somewhere between twelve and four AM, but that was about all you could guess.

As you settle back down, you look to your left and that is when you finally notice Hayden. He was sitting on a chair next to the bed you were on, still covered by his racing jumpsuit, and his head was next to your thigh. Even though he was sleeping, he still looked distressed, and you reached your hand up to run your fingers through his hair.

It was also then when you noticed the diamond ring that had recently been placed on your finger. You gasp quietly, lifting your hand again to get a better look at it. “Hayden,” you rasped, but it was loud enough to wake him up. 

He sat up and met your eye, and you could see the relief that flooded through him, before his gaze settled on your hand. “This isn’t how I wanted to ask you,” he trailed off, taking your hand in his. His fingers were stained with a bit of dried blood, and you could only assume it was yours. “I wanted to ask you after the race, but here we are.”

Your eyes stung as you tried to take in everything. “What happened?”

Hayden pressed a kiss to the back of your hand before hesitantly answering you, “There was an accident,” he began, meeting your eye again and you noticed the tears that gathered along his waterline. “It was a pretty serious crash. You were hit hard and I guess your car flipped a couple times before it slammed into the barrier.” 

You tried to think back to that, but could only remember bits and pieces. When you really thought about it, you could briefly remember feeling the impact of Ian’s car, and the way your body hit every metal bar that was inside your own car, but nothing else after that. 

“Before you ask, it’s totaled,” Hayden said and you felt your heart deflate at that. “But that is the last thing that should be on your mind.”

He broke eye contact and stared down at your joined fingers, his lip quivering in a way that told you he was barely holding on right now. “Hayden,” you murmur, moving your right hand to grab his free one. “It’s okay.”

But he just shook his head, the movement making a tear fall from his eye. “It’s not,” he muttered. “You have no idea about all the things that were running through my head when I saw you get pulled out of your car. Your eyes were closed and you were bleeding pretty much all over-” he cut himself off when he felt his throat begin to tighten.

Your eyes burn as you hold back your own tears, holding his hand as tightly as you could. When you went to bite down on your lip to stifle your cry, you wince when you taste the unmistakable bitterness of blood. Running your tongue over your lip, you felt how swollen it was, and you were sure you looked like a train wreck. “Hayden,” you tried again, but you were at a loss for words. “I…fuck.”

He continues to relive the nightmare of seeing you covered in your own blood and unresponsive as you lie on the track. “I was so fucking scared,” he confessed. “All the jokes I made before about you crashing suddenly felt so…real. They weren’t jokes anymore. I tried getting you to talk to me, but you weren’t awake, you weren’t answering me. I have never felt that terrified on a track before in my entire life.”

Tears fell from his eyes and that was all it took for your own to spill over. “Come here,” you requested quietly, gesturing for him to get onto the bed with you. 

He just shook his head, not wanting to move you in any way until you were given the okay by the doctor. “No, princess, I could hurt you, I-”

“Hayden, come here,” you cut him off, trying to pull him up from the chair, but that was a lost cause. “Please. I need you.”

And unsurprisingly, Hayden was quick to give in to you. He stood from the chair and moved so he was sitting next to you on the bed, but you took it a step further by pulling him back so he was propped against the pillow. You moved so you were laying half on his chest and half on the bed, ignoring the dull pain in your ribcage. 

“I’m sorry I scared you,” you mumbled, bunching up the fabric of his jumpsuit in your fist. “I hate that I put you through that, but I’m okay. Everything is going to be okay.”

Hayden nodded and gently wrapped his arm around your shoulders, wanting to say a lot more but also knowing you needed to rest. There would be time to talk later. “I need to let the doctor know that you’re awake,” he says after a few minutes. 

You hum, eyeing the ring on your finger before you grin, the pull on your lip making you repress a grunt of pain. “In a minute,” you say, lifting your head so you were looking up at him. “I think you have something to ask me, first.”

When you wiggle your finger at him, Hayden’s conflicted expression drops and he pulls you closer to him. “You’re right,” he turned the ring on your finger a few times before pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I love you, pretty girl. I have since the moment I met you. I know this is probably the least romantic proposal anyone has ever done, but I can’t wait any longer.”

Hayden really hated the fact that he was asking you to marry him while you were confined to a hospital bed. He was sure you expected a much bigger and better gesture than this, one where you were wearing a fancy dress instead of an unflattering gown that he still thinks you look hot in - especially since he could see the faint hickeys he left on you earlier peeking out from the collar of the gown.

You smile up at him, urging him to continue when he pauses for a few seconds.

“Y/n,” he says quietly, turning the ring one more so the diamond reflects off the dim light above the bed. “I want to spend the rest of my life by your side and doing the thing we both love. The thing that brought us together. Well, once we fix you up a new car. I’m sorry, but yours is fucked.”

You laugh and sit up a bit. “You’re still okay with me racing after this?”

Hayden shrugs. “I can’t tell you to give up on doing what you love, even if the thought of this happening again terrifies me,” he mutters under his breath. “We’ll do it together, just like how we’ve done it the last seven months. Now, before I forget to ask, will you marry me?” 

Grinning, you lean up and press your sore lips to his. “You really didn’t need to ask,” you tease, resting your head back on his chest. “Waking up with an engagement ring on my finger was more than enough.”

“Seriously?” He groans, leaning down to rest his chin on the top of your head. “You’re such a tease, you know that?”

“I know,” you say in response, closing your eyes when you feel him press a kiss to your temple. 

While you still weren’t sure of how serious your injuries are, you knew you’d be just fine. Hayden seemed more than willing to help nurse you back to health and even help you get back on the track when you were ready for it. 

You couldn’t ask for a better person to spend your life with.

[agentmarvel]

I am absolutely in love with your Nikto Writing. And if you still take prompts (With the emojis) could i ask for one?

Lots of love! -C.

🩷🔪 - "favourite Medic"

oh, i'll be taking prompts for the foreseeable future bc i love these so much! feel free to send more if the desire so strikes!🖤

nikto x fem!reader

cw: none

prompt list here

mdni - 18+; minors and ageless blogs will be blocked

"I'm sorry for the wait," you murmur, pulling the curtain shut behind you. "But you really should've let Hannah stitch you up."

Nikto shakes his head firmly, eyes glued to you. He doesn't trust anyone else. You sigh, taking a pair of pink nitrile gloves from a box on the wall and slipping them on. None of the other medics used the pink ones; they all use blue or black.

"Alright, then. Let's see the damage."

He stands, and you keep an appropriate distance as he shucks his tactical gear and unfastens his belt. You're very polite, averting your gaze as his pants hit the floor. That's one of the things he likes most about you. You're so thoughtful, always conscious of the comfort of company.

Sitting back down, he taps his finger against the frame, alerting you that he's finished. You turn back to him and immediately shake your head, tsking with disapproval at the sight of the lengthy knife wound on his thigh.

"Wanna tell me how you managed this?"

He cracks a smirk beneath his mask, chest jumping with a silent chuckle. You raise an eyebrow, threading your needle with care. It's a challenge, trying to con a few extra words out of him this visit. But he merely shrugs instead. The mirth in his eyes is clarification enough, or so it would seem as you smile up at him before turning your focus to his injury.

"Would you prefer to tell me why you didn't let someone else help you, then?"

"You're my favorite medic," he admits gruffly, tempering the winces that accompany each puncture of your stitches. Briefly, you pause, chancing a glance up at him. You apparently see the sincerity in his reciprocal gaze. The corners of your lips turn up just a little wider, teeth peeking out behind your pretty lips.

"Just don't expect me to kiss this one better, okay?"

[shiny-kaibernyte]

hey there! if you’re taking requests, can i ask for a drayton and/or kieran x a male! reader who has a very punk/alt style and looks pretty intimidating but is actually very kind? maybe the reader specializes in ghost/dark types too

regardless, i hope you’re taking care of yourself, i love your writing!

I really really like this! I'm so sorry it took me so long to get to this request! As a Ghost/dark specialist myself, i'll use Pokemon i have on my own team for convenience. If you don't like it feel free to yell at me for taking so long and mucking it up! ANYWAY Happy reading.

Warning: Small amount of Angst

Pretend | Kieran x Male Reader

“Kieran… you really shouldn’t rush this! It’s okay to feel nervous. You're not ready and that’s okay, please… don’t push yourself for something out of your reach.” Sitting opposite Kieran hoping your words would reach through to him, and yet the table seemed to only be a small part of the gap between you. 

A bang echoed through the dining room as Kieran slammed his fist on the floor, his voice coming out in a determined shout. “HELL NO! I’M READY I KNOW I AM! I’ll RETURN TO THAT WASH UP OF A SCHOOL AND SHOW EVERYONE HOW MUCH I’VE CHANGED!”

“Kieran calm down! I meant nothing by it, I’m simply saying, maybe wait another day before going back. After all, the spotlight’s going to be heavily on you… Are you… Sure you’re ready for that much attention?” Raising an eyebrow, a hint of worry in your voice, seemingly in an attempt to break through his facade and get through his shell.

Seems it worked

Kieran’s eyes fell to the floor, his head hung low, gripping his jeans so tightly. His knuckles turned white, and his palms read from the pressure. Tears began falling from his eyes, his voice coming out as nothing more than a shaking quiver of what it once was. “I don’t need you… to tell me that…”

“Kieran! I’m sorry please don’t c-” Barely a sentence out and Kieran’s voice breaks through your own.

“I’m not as strong as you… I can’t make people run from me the moment they see me walking down a hall… I can’t glare at someone like you can… make them show respect to you just by looking at them. You don’t even have to raise your voice… Just looking at you makes people's skin crawl. I’ve seen countless Pokémon hide behind their trainer or out right return to their balls… All because of how you look… Your team being all ghost types only helps you… The way you hold yourself up, I’ve never even seen you break a sweat… even in those outfits… How… how can I even comprehend facing that place again… With everything I have done to not only them… but to you? How can you sit across from me and show me the kindness you never show to others? How… Can you let me call you my boyfriend?”

“What are you talking about Kieran… where is all this coming from?” Unable to comprehend anything he was saying, your words only added fuel to this sombre fire within him.

“I Pretended… that’s how I got through. I held myself up by a thread, I pretended to be strong… I wanted to be stronger, I thought I was stronger than you… I needed to be stronger than you… To prove to myself I could protect you… the way you always have me. I pretended… Even when I never showed it to you, I followed you around like a lost Yamper. It’s dumb now that I say it aloud. Pushing you away from me at every step, and yet I admit how much I wanted to be like you… And yet after everything with Ogerpon… the academy… Area Zero. You never backed away from me…” As if a light switch had been flicked, his gaze was fixed upon your face, staring into you, with a look you couldn’t recognise, the tears that were still running down his face were no longer once of doubt and sorrow, but now determination and pride. “I see now… I don’t need to pretend any more. The thread doesn’t need to be held together any more, because it never existed in the first place. You… you were what was holding me up this whole time, I always wondered why I felt so secure around you. I thought before it was because of your alternative style and your Pokémon… That Chandelure of yours is intimidating, it alone took out most of my team. But now I realise you were simply trying to find me…”

A chuckle, that was all that escaped your lips as your arms crossed your chest, leaning back against the wall behind you. The lights on the ceiling blinding your vision as you stare into them, seemingly trying to find the words to compare what he had said, and yet you came up empty. Kieran’s words ring true in your ears. Seems his momentary outburst was all he needed to realise what you had been trying to do ever since the festival.

“What I'm trying to say is… thank you, for never giving up on me. When I met you, I thought you were this… delinquent waiting to punch the first worm you saw in your way, and yet, the way you smiled at me, was something I wouldn't give up for all the riches in this world. Why you chose me to give your kindness to, I will never understand. So again, thank you a thousand times over.” Kieran finally coming down from his outburst, his gaze softening as he played your meeting in his head.

“No need to thank me… You’re a good guy Kieran, don’t let those doubts get to you. I’ll always be here to hold you up.” That was the exact moment your Pokémon decided to show up. The sound of three poke balls opening echoed through the room, one of which caused Kieran to fall back off the pillow and onto the floor. Chandelure, Phantump and Ceruledge, all showing up at the same time. Phantump seemed to be the most affectionate towards Kieran as it flew around his head on the floor.

Chandelure spun for a moment in a silent celebration. Ceruledge simply stood by your side as you leaned forwards again, looking at your boyfriend on the floor. Kieran suddenly sprung up in almost a comedic way, only to be met by Ceruledge's piercing gaze. Though he wasn’t afraid, inspired is the word that came to his mind. A sparkle in his eye, and a bright determined grin, it would seem foolish to think just a few minutes ago he was crying a river into his jeans as voicing his heart's broken poetry to you. “I’m ready to go back! If I'm lucky enough to call you my boyfriend then I'm not going to back down again. Besides, even though I'm no longer leading the league any more, I still have a score to settle with Drayton.”

Your Phantump waved its arms around in the air, its cheeks puffing out for a moment as if trying to mimic Kieran’s new-found strength. “I’ll be right here with you, ready to scare off those who get in your way” The last part came out as a mockery, you wouldn’t really scare anyone, on purpose that is.

[lovelyunholyc]

hurt/comfort but mostly comfort. gender neutral. inspired by this post :')

from the moment you see him, you know something's off.

his shoulders sag just the slightest bit, and instead of his usual bone-crushing hug and a flurry of kisses as a greeting, he places only one, soft and sweet, at the center of your forehead.

this would be normal to most people, but it's miya atsumu, and you know him better than he might even know himself.

"baby, is something wrong?" you drop what you're doing on the kitchen counter in favor of catching his hand and tugging him back to you before he can walk away.

atsumu shrugs, eyes downcast, and there's a slight downward pull to his lips that would be imperceptible to anyone else. "no, i'm fine."

you scoff good-naturedly, amused that he still thinks he can hide how he feels from you of all people. "'tsumu," you admonish lightly, and delight at the pink tinge creeping up his ears at his beloved nickname, telling you that no matter how down he is, he's still pleased to hear it from you.

he plasters on a tiny smile, a pitiful fraction of its usual intensity, you know, and brings your hand up to press his lips to your knuckle. "i'm okay, darlin', don't worry."

you sigh, but let him be with a gentle squeeze to his hand. he can be so stubborn; but you know he'll come back to you eventually.

atsumu has always gone through his emotions hard, fast, and loud, much like he does with just about every other aspect of his life. you've always loved that about him, how being so vulnerable comes so naturally, how he isn't ashamed to wear his heart on his sleeve, can't seem to help himself from reacting so openly to everything around him.

you continue your work in the kitchen while he settles in for the night, setting his things down and changing.

soon enough, he makes his way back to you, all but draping himself across your shoulders, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. you brace yourself against the edge of the counter with his added weight on you, but you don't complain, only letting him melt into you. it's comforting, his warmth encompasses you entirely and soothes you inexplicably, his arms hugging you tightly to him.

you smile to yourself, turn your head slightly just to press your lips to the top of his head, soft blonde tickling your skin. "oh, my love," you breathe, taking his hands and turning in his embrace so you can then kiss at his pretty little frown.

atsumu merely grunts softly in appreciation, lets you lead him to sit at the dining table. he makes room for you to stand between his knees, and as soon as he sits, he pulls you to him, hugs you tight once more. he makes a small, satisfied sound when he buries his face in your stomach and breathes you in, and you immediately start threading your fingers through his hair, soothing at his scalp.

"what's going on in that pretty little head of yours, hm?" your voice is soft, cautious. patient, ready to help him ease his worries when he decides he's ready to share them. you feel him shiver with your touch, a wave wracking through his body, and all the tension slipping free with it, slowly, muscle by muscle. "rough day?"

atsumu just nods into you, takes a few deep breaths before he tilts his head up to finally look at you. his hair is mussed charmingly where he'd been rubbing it against your shirt, his brows and lips heavy with revelation.

"do you think i'm too much?" you've never heard him sound so small. your big, invincible, rambunctious lover, reduced to barely a whisper. you think your heart breaks.

before the heat of anger starts to spike through your chest at whoever, whatever had made him feel that way.

outwardly, you wait patiently for him to continue, to elaborate if he chooses.

"...too emotional? ....too dramatic?"

the mix of hurt and confusion in his eyes makes you want to burn the world down.

"oh, honey," you coo gently, caressing his face fondly before brushing through his fringe. you decide not to press, taking his bitten in bottom lip as a cue that he needs reassurance more than anything, a reminder. you crack a small smile, hoping he'll mirror it eventually. "dramatic, maybe, but never too much." you lean in to press your lips softly but firmly to his forehead, as if you can etch your words into his brain that way. "you're nothing i can't handle, you know."

your heart flutters just a bit when his lips do tilt the tiniest bit to the side, his eyes shining with emotion. "yeah?"

"yeah." your fingers move from his hair down to follow the line of his neck, until you get to his shoulders and massage gently at the muscles you know must be sore from practice. "do you wanna know what i really think, baby?"

he sighs contentedly as you work at the knots in his shoulders and back, and you're glad to feel the tension in his body start to dissipate beneath your fingers. he buries his face into your shirt again but nods, his arms giving you a fond squeeze.

"'tsumu, you love so loudly and so, so proudly, it makes everything else melt away. you get all soft and gooey so easily and i love you that way - i love you in every way, you know that?" he looks up at you again at that, and the way his bottom lip protrudes in a pout makes you laugh quietly. you lean down to press yours against it and feel it slip into a subtle upwards turn instead. "i think anyone would kill for the kind of vulnerability you show so naturally, 'tsumu, and everyone you share it with should count themselves lucky. i know i do." you touch the tip of your noses together, delighted when he starts to smile. genuinely.

atsumu tugs you down to sit on his lap, so he can kiss you properly. "i love you," he whispers against your lips. his eyes are sparkling so ardently, it makes you warm all over. "more than you know." he kisses you again, heart in your hands, and doesn't stop until you're breathless, and he's grinning like the world is right again.

"not more than i love you, though, pretty boy."

that makes him furrow his brows, his innocent smile molding into a smirk. he kisses you once more, deepening it with ease, like he has something to prove.

[bleue-flora]

and if i said c!dream had some form of empathy in c!tommy in exile, i'd get shot but that trident scene... look it may have been manipulation on c!Dreams part but since deep down c!Dream doesn't want to be lonely. I can see apart of him enjoying c!tommys company. and I have the hot take that if c!Discduo in exile ever had a moment of having a deep conversation and it wasn't just constant jokes and surface level friendship then I think it could have turned into a genuine friendship, it would take apologies, building trust. I'm an idiot for thinking this I know. wholesome c!discduo always seems to live rent free in my head.

What may surprise you is that I actually agree. I haven’t rewatched all of Exile in a while, though it is on my list. But having said that, I have always been under the impression that there is an underlying genuine friendship there. The best lies have a cornel of truth if you will and the same applies for manipulation. The more you believe it the more they believe it. And we know Dream uses this method because within his evil monologues and such there is a thread of truth weaved in there. So I do think Dream is in some ways genuine. Even further, I think perhaps he has convinced himself that Tommy is his friend by pure choice not circumstance. And I think he does want to be Tommy’s friend or at least did, and while he tried to do it in the normal manner perhaps he determined this was the only way for Tommy to see him as more than a villain. I don’t know…

But the line in the disc finale of “We were friends!” as Dream begs for his life stands out to me. Because I think a part of him saw Exile as real. The same part I think that didn’t fully expect Tommy to kill him all the way…

Exile, much like Daedalus is complex and with Daedalus we have a little more context to what Dream actually wants, which for Exile is perhaps a slightly nuanced. Was he manipulating Tommy - yes. But I am of the opinion that intentional or not, there was a form of genuine bond with him. I mean the thing is, if Dream is manipulating Tommy in Exile - isolating him and making himself Tommy’s only friend, then doesn’t that say something? Do we ever ask *why* he might be doing that?

He says to Tommy later in the disc confrontation, “everything I do is deliberate,” and although that’s true in general, I do think that Dream is also susceptible to emotions like the rest of us, but he uses those for a strategy and tells himself it was intentional the whole time. So, like Daedalus, I’m of the opinion that part of exile was Dream losing his temper and letting his emotions get the better of him, which he uses for his plan but may not have been really intended. When talking to Punz he says that after he blew up the chest that Tommy hid and was going to use to kill him, he ended up coming back to see if Tommy was ok [clip].

He lost everything because of Tommy, would that not make you angry enough to take it out on the source of your pain? Wouldn’t you want that person to feel lonely and abandoned just like you, wouldn’t you want that person to lose their items over and over just like he has done to you? Cuz I think overall he had a plan, but I’m not sure he meant to go as far as he did in some cases, I think emotion got the better of him, honestly understandably so. Isn’t that why Tommy murdered Dream in the disc confrontation? Revenge…

Unfortunately, I do think that reconciliation was probably never going to happen for them, I’m not sure at the moment, when they lost that chance, perhaps when he gave the tnt to Wilbur?… but I think their hate had grown a lot before Exile and they were both in very bad places emotionally speaking, which I find to be unhelpful when trying to make amends. A lot of times, it take a cleared head and not being raw from being hurt to be able to hear someone out, apologize, forgive, makeup or reach understanding. I mean maybe if Dream didn’t sabotage his beach party and take Ranboo’s letters and stuff then it’s possible… but then again the other people would likely relight the flame of hatred toward Dream. Quackity being an excellent example of someone who’s going for Dream’s head, ‘he’s a bad guy, he exiled you. He blew up L’manberg…’ etc probably undoing all the work. If he had let Tommy get items, Tommy would have probably tried to kill him, so sadly I’m not sure there was a world where Exile could have fixed their relationship. But it would have been nice, wouldn’t it? They make such a fun team…

[damnedrainbows]

RULES:

These are five years old and are going to change with things to be added in the next few days, but they’re mostly the same! A i was informed they weren’t showing up on my blog so I made a pin for now

Muses:

Generally the entire show, but my mains are Alastor, Lucifer, and Charlie

Following and Unfollowing

I am selective.

I will only follow back blogs I actively wish to RP with. Or people I’ve made friends with. I’ll be ever grateful for every follower I get, but it doesn’t mean I’ll follow you back.

You don’t have to be an rp blog for me to rp with you. One of my partners is just a normal fandom blog. Writing is writing C:

I don’t do exclusives. For me I find it takes a lot of the opportunities away to get to know more cool people. If you want to make me an exclusive for something…go right ahead, but I won’t do the same. You’ll simply stay my partner. I want to be able to interact with everyone. That being said, I do mains! That doesn’t really mean anything other than your blog would be the first I tag if I see something that reminds me of our muses, that sorta thing.

If I hear wind that you’re harassing any of my friends you’re done. And if you’re harassing me in any way. I do not put up with bad treatment of my friends or me. You don’t want a block from me. Jordan doesn’t block ANYBODY.

Threads and Communication

Sometimes I’ll have long posts, sometimes short ones. It depends purely on my inspiration at the time, but I’ll always put my best effort in. I want you to do so too!

Before writing any verse you want to do, please talk to me first C:

I LIVE FOR RANDOM STARTERS TBH. It’s like…waking up to Christmas morning and seeing your present. Mutuals please drop me a random starter any time.

I play my characters the way I want to play them, the way I interpret them. So if you don’t like how they’re played, that’s fine, but I’m not likely to change it.

If you send IC memes please specify the muse, since…well, I have the whole show.

I’m of age so I do smut but nothing too-too graphic. It will be tagged of course.

My threads are for my PARTNER only. Or partners if it’s a threeway. Please do not reblog them. You can like em, you can use the little reply button to say something–if you really want to talk about something that’s happening in them shoot me a message-but do not reblog unless you are said partner. C:

For the love of God, don’t hound me. I’m aware I can take a while to reply, but I have a lot of threads usually at the same time and some I have more muse for than others. Please don’t link me to our thread, please don’t say “it’s your turn” or some sort of variation of passive aggressive harassment. You aren’t going to make me respond faster. You are just going to spark my anxiety and make me resent our rp. If it’s been four days feel free to message me–not four hours.

Unless you’re a canon character my muse needs to get to know you a bit. C: So it’s unlikely you can just pop up to one of my muses, never having met, like ‘hi, how you been?’ and not have them be like “who da fuck are you"

Shipping

Shipping will mainly be thread-dependent. If you feel like our muses may mesh, go for it!

I will not tolerate hate for what I ship. I don’t need to be told I’m shipping something unhealthy because chances are I’ll state it’s unhealthy and I by no means condone dating a psychopath in real life. Hate will be deleted and blocked.

When it comes to OC ships and any ship really, ship needs chemistry. Do not force a ship onto my muses. They need to get to know each other, and this mainly applies to OC ships–not so much the pr-established characters in the show. If I already ship it, I’m down to jumping straight into a shipping thread.

Crossovers

I am mildly less selective with crossovers since this show is literally…all about crossing over into other media. I’m still selective but not as much. For my own comfort I won’t be rping with characters from the Sonic franchise.

Triggers and Tagging

I know very little about triggers myself and what people consider a trigger. IF you want something tagged you’ll have to ask. I’ll be clueless otherwise, but I will tag all ships. And the basic gore and blood and such. Be aware of the fact I have bad memory problems. If I forget to tag something you asked me to tag I’m sorry, it wasn’t on purpose.

This is an insanely dark show and there will be a lot of blood and gore and horror. There will be torture and killing talk, but it will still be tagged.

Mun Notes

I have serious memory problems. Like, really bad due to a combo of illnesses. Cut me some slack, I’m going to forget rules and probably certain triggers if I’m not used to tagging them. You have no ida how many friggin rule pages I’ve read on this blog. I’ll do my best but I’m going to forget, and probably more than once. It’s not my fault, I’m trying my hardest.

I do not do passcodes. For some reason they make me…severely anxious and I don’t know why. If we rp, I’ve read your rules, rest assured. If you really really depend on a passcode…well, we probably won’t be rping then. ;-; sorry.

I’m a physically disabled person who’s online rather…all the time because I can’t work really. So rp is like all I got going on right now as I work on my animation portfolio at home.

I’m a very sweet twenty two four old that loves to talk to people. Talk to me any time about my muse, about anything! Feel free to approach me just to talk in general. I really love people! We don’t have to rp to be friends.

And finally, what I write, my characters’ views do not reflect my own. I do not condone the destruction of entire civilization or eating babies. Unless they are tasty babies.

[eccentric-nucleus]

so i signed up for that 404 media mailing list b/c i mean, why not. so now i am also getting emails from them and so far it has not been too annoying. several articles about various food delivery aggregators using bizarre ai-generated food photography, that kind of thing.

the thing i got today was about people on etsy making bespoke hardcover editions of fanfiction (not their own, just whatever fanfic is popular) and selling them. apparently a lot of draco/hermione fanfiction.

from the article:

“due to the seemingly unstoppable monetization of fandom and the sheer volume of illegal fan bindings being sold, I will be pulling all my works within the next few days,” they wrote on Tumblr. “thank you to those of you who worked so hard trying to keep fandom free and to all of you who supported my writing. it was fun while it lasted”

“I hate these shitty vultures who are destroying fandom spaces to make money before moving onto the next grift once we are burned to the ground,” a Redditor wrote in a thread about the announcement. “Vultures is exactly what they fucking are,” someone else replied.

it has been super weird to see fandom becoming more and more monetizable. i remember when even the suggestion that somebody might be exchanging money for product would get people kicked off fanfic sites. even running charity drives for fan in exchange for charity receipts was considered risky and dangerous! and now there's a bunch of people like "ugh ao3 is so annoying; why don't they let me post links to my commission form on my fics". money slowly and insidiously making its way into the fandom entity.

(i've actually had multiple people tell me they've gotten commissions inspired by my fics, or ask me if i take take money for writing further chapters of w/e fic, and it's always such a weird thing. that used to be such an out-there stance to take and now there are plenty of people that... i mean, i've just been posting about scribblehub. a large part of that site is absolutely hosting porn fanfic with patreon links attached. now it's a Market.)

i do feel like just saying that economic interests inevitably hollow out all hobbyist communities and turn them into empty enclosures filled with advertising is a little doomerist of me, but oof it's hard to see the increasing monetization of these spaces as anything other than another threat to any real community

there's this old saying about the difference between an author and an agent is that an author genuinely wants people to read their work. part of the value of getting published is so people see something you cared about making, not just the money. the agent is there to be a dispassionate advocate so that they can actually make money off of their work, b/c the author is kind of biased there. everybody having to be their own agent just kinda sucks for a lot of reasons

[celia-baker]

[cis woman and she/her] Welcome to Aurora Bay, [CELIA BAKER]! I couldn’t help but notice you look an awful lot like [MAUDE APATOW]. You must be the [TWENTY-SIX] year old [COSTUMER FOR THE CHARLES LEVIN THEATRE/FREELACE COSTUME DESIGNER AND SEAMSTRESS]. Word is you’re [DETAIL-ORIENTED] but can also be a bit [SELF-SACRIFICING] and your favorite song is [SATURN BY SZA]. I also heard you’ll be staying in [SEABROOK QUARTER]. I’m sure you’ll love it!

@aurorabayaesthetic

Full Name: Celia Mae Baker Nickname(s): Cece, C, C. Mae Age: 26 Birthday: September 1st, 1998 Astrological Sign: Virgo Place of Birth: New York, New York Parents: Edward and Miriam Baker (62 & 62) Siblings: Aaron Baker (33) Children: N/A Pets: Dionysus “Dio” (1-year-old male Ragdoll/Orange Tabby cat) and Thalia (4-month-old female Ragdoll cat) *Relationships: Jamie Ryder (ex-boyfriend/first love(NPC)), **see wanted connections** Scars: A light one on her knee from reconstructive surgery Tattoos: A small spool of thread on her left ankle (that she absolutely hides from her parents) Other Physical Distinctions: Gets seasonal freckles across her nose in the summertime Sexual Orientation & Gender: Pansexual and Panromantic ;; Cis Female Occupation: Lead Costumer for the Charles Levin Theater/Owner of CMB Designs *subject to change as roles are taken

bullet points

• tw: mention of broken bones, medical issues, chronic illness, reckless behavior, self-destructive behavior•

○ summer was still hanging in the air as the clocks turned to midnight. at that moment, on september 1st, 1998, celia mae baker was welcomed into the world on her exact due date. that ‘fun fact’ seemingly predicted her future, as she grew into a child that thrived off perfection and preciseness.

○ her child was felt as if it was out of a storybook: two college sweetheart parents who were brilliant scholars, a brother who was nothing less than her closest and dearest friend, and the entirety of the Lower East Side as her playground? it was a dream. family means everything to this girl and she would both die or kill for any of them.

○ september 1st, 2004: it was celia's birthday and that year's gift? tickets to go see the lion king on broadway. from the moment the newly six-year-old stepped her black mary-janes into the lobby of the theater, she was hooked. it was like magic to her. every moment, every song, every performer: she had found her calling. after hours of begging the next summer, the baker's finally allowed celia to take acting lessons. and what would you know? she was seemingly born for the stage. instructors were suddenly sending her on auditions, getting her gigs, and even had her touring for a year with a professional production of secret garden. it was like a dream come true for the girl.

○ when she wasn't at rehearsal or doing a show, celia was shut up in her room playing all the classic cozy games. her summer nights and free weekends were filled with whatever sims or harvest moon game was out at the time. to this day, she still can be found with a blanket wrapped around her, a bowl of chips by her side and her little virtual life on the screen in front of her.

○ she is also a blossoming cat lady. she has two currently and they are her pride and joy.

○ to no one's surprise, celia decided to major in musical theatre. she hoped to soon transition into either performing on broadway or return to touring as an adult. however, during a production of into the woods in which she played cinderella her third semester (and in front of talent scouts), there was a part in her performance of steps of the palace where she went down to her knees. everything before that was going swimmingly; a shoo-in for an invite to audition for their summer program. when that first knee hit the stage though, all celia remembers was hearing a loud crack and feeling as if her entire leg had exploded. she was soon whisked away to the hospital where they discovered her kneecap had completely shattered, requiring her to get a full knee replacement. 'devastated' wasn't a strong enough word for the feelings that overcame her when she found out she couldn't dance for at least a year after the surgery.

○ but everyone in her family had one question on their minds: how did a completely healthy nineteen-year-old's knee completely shatter from a simple landing? well, after extensive and invasive testing, the culprit was revealed: systemic lupus erythematosus causing osteoporosis. it made sense; she had been feeling achier than usual (chalked up to her getting older and less flexible as she grew), got exhausted so quickly (usually blamed on lack of sleep or doing too much), and was starting to see a rash pop up across her cheeks (which was misdiagnosed as eczema). she thought the year ban on performing was bad, though? once she heard her doctors recommend she not do any professional touring ever again at the risk of her doing irreparable damage to herself as he condition continued to progress, the sound of her heart shattering felt louder than hearing her literal bone split open. her whole life had been planned by her since she was seven. and now? she had to start back at square one.

○ after a gap year of healing (and moping. and crying. and wallowing), celia went back to school (this time in aurora bay as she wanted to be as far from the broadway signs that were a reminder of everything she had lost) and began to fall in love with another aspect of the theatre: costuming. she poured herself into the world of storytelling through clothing and creating pure magic on stage. if this was the path her life was to take, it was time to throw everything she had into starting off on the right foot. getting both her BA and MA in costuming and fashion design plus getting a 4.0 GPA both times was absolutely a coping method for losing her past love. though it was bittersweet getting her highly coveted position at The Charles Levin Theater, she could not be more happy to be close to the industry that has brought her so much joy.

○ celia has grown into a highly respected costume designer. so much so, she was advised to start freelancing as well (since so many people gushed over her creations on stage). and celia agreed. in 2022, she started CMB Designs and it took off faster than she could have ever expected. it's almost turned her into a workaholic. it seems she can only be found hunched over her sewing machine, working on some elaborate costume for either the theater or for the many drag queens who have added her to their 'designers' list

○ however, as these past few years have gone by and her lupus has progressed, celia is starting to feel the toll all this work and stress is taking on her body. the aches have been stronger, her fatigue putting her out for days. but will she stop? no. she's never stopped. yeah, she's being held together by a string with the structural integrity of one of her most worn character shoes' buckle but what's a little breakdown every once in a while, right? ....right?

○ to be honest, celia has been trying to 'let loose' a little more. it started with simply breaking up with her high school boyfriend when she moved to aurora bay. then she just started partying with her college friends. however, she may be swinging the pendulum a little too much to the other side these days. between the only 'romantic relationships' she's had in the last few years have been some one-night stands and partying too hard too frequently, it's obvious her behavior is more reckless than a liberating 'fuck you' to her proclivities for perfection. after all, it's easier to not care about yourself when your body is only going to degrade.

wanted connections/plots

the frenemies ;; are they friends? do they hate each other? you’ll never know with these two. the one night stand ;; hit it and quit it (is there more of a relationship past that? we'll just have to see) the one? ;; these two flirt so much, they might as well just get it over with and date. however, many steps have to be taken to get there. are they willing to make those steps? fwb ;; having a friend is good. having a friend who has sex with you is better. no strings attached. onesided love ;; either celia or this other person has feelings for the other, but the feelings aren’t quite reciprocated customers;; simple: these people go to celia for costumes for work or recreation! the fan ;; it can be known or not, this person just really appreciates and enjoys celia’s work.