#and more grateful than I'll ever be able to put into words

[adelaide-arden]

Crossing that threshold was like stepping into another world. Suddenly, all the outside noise were muffled, and all the colours and people with it. Even the air felt stifling. Not in the way humidity would cling at my skin when stepping off of a boat and onto a tropical island. No. This was no tropical island. This air was clean. Too clean. But it offered no relief, unless you take a deep breath and exhaled. It was almost like the air was made specifically for that, to force you to breathe if you wished to stay afloat.

And I did. So, I do.

I close my eyes and take the deepest breath I can. The all-too-clean air rush and fill my lungs to the brim, and I hold it there for as long as I am able, almost until I was suffocating in its cleanliness. But at last, I let go. And in that one second, I feel better. That is, before the weight of my reality was as clear as it was undeniable the moment I open my eyes again.

"Addie??"

I don't know how long my friend had been calling out to me before I turn to face him.

"Are you gon' be okay?"

He looks as calm and sturdy as he had when he showed up at my front door two days before. But just like then, he couldn't mask the look of quiet concern in his eyes. Nor could he hide it from his voice.

All I could do was nod as I muster the most convincing smile I can to assure my friend that he had nothing to worry about. By the look in his eyes, he didn't quite buy it. Still, he says nothing. He doesn't call me out for it. He simply returns a similar reassuring smile, the kind that hoped I'd eventually mirror it, and mean it.

And by God, I hope in time, I can.

"I'm gon' come visit you tomorrow, okay, bestie?"

I open my mouth in protest but he beat me to it.

"I will come and visit you tomorrow. Four o'clock. So you better be prepared to tell me all about your first day."

I can't help but laugh, albeit weakly. I never have the energy to do much of anything these days. But he knew that. He understood why. He respected the effort nevertheless. So, I nod, and so does he. We share a moment of silence, just looking at each other — a quiet goodbye of sorts. And before I know it, he envelopes me in the tightest hug I never knew I needed.

I fought the tears, really I tried, but they come anyway. I cling to him as solidly as I can, afraid that when he leaves, I'd crumble all over again. But he has faith in me. I feel that in his embrace. He firmly believes in the quiet strength I thought I'd lost years ago. And that was enough for me to finally let go.

Whether or not he knew it, Forrest Dunn has become my rock, and has been for months now. Truly the best friend any one could have ever asked for. It was a shame that we were to finally meet face-to-face under such circumstances, but he called it fitting. And he was right. Our friendship has been nothing less than being pillars of strength, and persistent sounding boards for each other through this fucked up thing called life.

"I'm going to miss you," I mumble quietly.

"I'm not leaving yet," he reminds me.

"You know what I mean..."

He gives me one strong squeeze and kisses the top of my head. "I know, bestie. But I'm always just a call away anyway, right?" I nod because what else can I say? I've put myself here. For better or for worse. "And I'm still gon' come visit you tomorrow before I leave. So no goodbyes just yet."

I nod, for what feels like the umpteenth time. Speaking has been a chore lately. Hell, being awake has been, too. I was grateful he didn't force more out of me.

"I'll see you tomorrow, then, bestie," I say as I bid him goodbye. I watch him retreat before I stop him. "And, Forrest?" He turns around, already attentive. "Thank you," I tell him, quietly but fiercely. "For everything."

"Hey," he was quick to remind me. "That's what friends are for." He smiles, waves me goodbye and leaves, probably not realising the profundity of those five simple words. But it makes me appreciate him and his friendship all the more, even if I couldn't quite believe him just yet.

Betrayal upon betrayal by those who have uttered the very same words to me was why I am the way I am now. Still, I trusted people at face value because I knew no other way; I love and support and cherish all that I knew with the fullest of intentions, come rain or shine, and holding back has always been so alien to me. But it was that trust, now all shattered in a million billion pieces, that's landed me here. I gave until I had nothing left. I gave until I was faulted for having nothing left.

Yet all the same, I can't help but want to take a chance at Forrest's promise anyway. That perhaps this truly is what friends are for. And whether or not believing that would make me all the more idiotic, only time will tell. But, I have a feeling my friend here is worth taking a leap of faith for. Because that was what Forrest Dunn has given me. This is who he is. The personification of a real, true, and unwavering friendship. No shame. No judgment. No fear. How liberating it was! How invaluable.

With all this in mind, to see that door close behind him didn't feel as daunting anymore. Who knows? I might survive this whole ordeal, after all. Even if it means I have to crawl and claw my way out to find myself again. I owe it to her - to care and love her as much as I do others. Because if I don't, then who will?

[permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88]

So after the final round of chemo before a month-long break, I have some…thoughts.

Definitely don’t feel like you have to read below the cut!

I can hardly believe how quickly time has flown! It’s already been a little over six months since my diagnosis, but there was another half of a year prior to that of symptoms.  It’s been like a night and day difference in so many more ways than just physical, though, and I really think I can use this as a sort of divider for my life, as cliche as that may sound.  The 'then', and the 'now'.

Then, not only was I dealing with chronic cough, insane levels of fatigue, progressively worsening shortness of breath, and a general lack of motivation to do anything, fun, or otherwise, but I was also fighting a pretty significant battle against my own mind.  Some of my mutuals may already be aware of just how far into the “pits” I’d traveled, but it was like I couldn’t get anything right.  My viewpoint was that, generally speaking, anything and everything bad that happened to me, I somehow deserved.  I was nothing but a giant burden on everyone I’d ever met, and anyone with two brain cells to their name would wise up, eventually, realize that, and leave.  It was a mindset that got in the way of many friendships and familial relationships, and I was pushing people away left and right.

If you are one of those people, and you are reading this now?  I am nothing if not sincerely sorry for putting you through that.  But I hope that, if you’re still around, you can see how honestly I am trying to change.

(We’ve come to the ‘now’ stage, by the way.  Just in case you were curious.😉)

Now, it’s like I’ve received a well-deserved (and much-needed) slap in the face.

January 18th, aka diagnosis day, came and went, and rather than see this as yet another thing that I “deserved” for being such an inferior and unworthy person, it’s like everything started to shift.  I hadn’t made any conscious effort on my part (that I was aware of, anyway).  It just sort of…happened.  Anxiety wasn’t even a thing.  I met with my doctors and the rest of my care team in the hospital, we put together a care-plan, and that was that.  I was moving forward, ready to fight, and yes, I was reeling (still am, occasionally), but it was like I was finally able to put every last ounce of that worry on something else.  Or rather, someone.

God.

Prior to all of this, I’d always kind of scoffed at the sentiment of “If God brings you to it, He’ll bring you through it.”  My negative vibes just couldn’t grasp it, or at least they couldn’t, as far as it might ever pertain to me personally.  For years (read:  35 of them!) I hadn’t been ready to give up the rigid level of control I tried (and failed) to exert over every possible aspect of my life.  And I think this was finally the one thing that I realized wouldn’t work with that frame of logic.  It just…couldn’t.

Hearing from my primary care physician, who is the one who sent me to the ER to kick-start the diagnostic process in the first place that if I’d waited any longer, I likely wouldn’t have survived at all, only added to the mental booty-kick that I so desperately needed, and now?

It’s like coming that close to death was all that I needed to become a completely different person.

Don’t get me wrong, I still have my negative thoughts.  I give in.  I’m only human.  But by and large, I’m much less anxious.  My first conclusions on a situation aren’t always negative like they were, before.  I can look at myself in the mirror, and still not be 100% happy with the reflection, but it’s not to the point where I fully believe I have zero value anymore.  I know I can contribute to society, and my relationships, in a positive way, and I am determined to try my very best to do so from here on out.

There’s still a potentially long road ahead of me.  In August, I go back for more scans, to determine if any of the original tumor is left, and if there is, more treatment will be on the table at that point.  I understand that, side-effect wise, I may not get as lucky as I was this past time, where a bit of fatigue for a few days will be the only thing that goes “awry.”  But now, I can look to those moments with acceptance and hope, rather than dread and fear.  That makes absolutely all of the difference in the world.  

My doctors have me.  God has me.  And really, that is all I need.

Lastly, to all of those who witnessed my attempts at pushing them away—who saw every last bit of the ugly that was my attitude a year ago and before—THANK YOU.  Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for staying.  For being patient, when you could have (and maybe should have) just walked away.  I will never be able to repay your kindness, but I am hopeful that I can at least make a concentrated attempt to start!

[starxanemone]

꩜ⴰ ࣪˖ BLLK LOVE LANGUAGE HEADCANONS

isagi yoichi & itoshi rin ( as per @newinhalerpls request )

⸻ in which i'll be rating their love language on a scale of 1-10 based on my understanding of their personality + include the type of person they'd be compatible with.

⸻ [ part i. itoshi sae & nagi seishirou ] [ part iii. bachira meguru & noel noa ]

ISAGI YOICHI

ACTS OF SERVICE: 9/10. Out of everyone in Blue Lock, he's the only one (or one of the very few) characters with a decent mental health and thus, have a secure attachment style—at least, based on my observation. He seems like a genuinely nice person so he strikes me as someone who'd be really helpful towards their significant other even when it's unprompted. You don't have to tell him if you need help with something because he's probably on it already.

WORDS OF AFFIRMATION: 9/10. Although this guy has such a dirty mouth when playing soccer, off the field, he's actually pretty nice. He even comforts his rivals and isn't really afraid to say when he feels really grateful. You could be doing something as simple as picking up something he dropped and he'd probably give you a small smile with a grateful look on his face as if you handed him the world—that is, when you're his significant other.

Exhibit A: when he thanked Rin for the assist when he scored the last point in the U20 match. Technically, considering their relationship and the nature of Blue Lock, he wasn't obligated to thank him, but he personally felt the need to express it.

PHYSICAL TOUCH: 7/10. He's probably not the type to initiate it, but he's definitely not against it especially if it's his significant other. At first, he'd probably be all awkward and unsure since no one really showed romantic interest in him (according to the Egoist Bible as he hasn't received chocolates on valentines), but he eases into it pretty fast. You just have to be the one initiate all the time. Also, I feel like he doesn't want to feel like he's intruding your personal space which is why he holds back.

QUALITY TIME: 7/10. He strikes me as an independent person, but not the type to isolate himself or retreat into a little shell. He'd probably be the type to think that when you're in a relationship, there are sets of "obligations" he wants to fulfill as a significant other such as remembering significant dates, spending quality time by going out or even just staying in, etc.

GIFT GIVING: 8/10. He gives gifts when there is a special occasion like christmas or your birthday or whatnot, but he probably thinks that he's not all too great at picking out what gifts to give. I feel like he's the type to get you things that you once mentioned you wanted at one point in the past. Like if you say that you wanted a watch about three months ago, that's probably the gift he's going to give you for the next special occasion.

COMPATIBLE WITH: honestly, he looks like he can get along with anyone so long as you're both able to treat each other with respect. It doesn't matter whether you're outgoing or more introverted, or love to explore or stay indoors. I think that with this guy, what matters more is having equal respect for each other.

ITOSHI RIN

ACTS OF SERVICE: 6/10. He's a pretty angsty and irritable teenager on the exterior, but if he warms up to you, I'm sure that he's always helping you, though it's more for his sake than yours. He seems like the type to feel a bit annoyed when something's out of place, so if he sees that your bag's about to fall off your shoulder, he's immediately grabbing it and putting it back in place.

WORDS OF AFFIRMATION: 3/10. Not the best at words (he probably got that from his brother). He's not going to comfort you with words or reassurance if you're feeling down, but I think he has the decency to at least stay quiet and listen if ever you're sharing your feelings; it's just that he's not really sure what to say. The best reassurance he can give is by objectively telling you how a situation could likely play out.

PHYSICAL TOUCH: 2/10. Sorry, but he doesn't look like the touchy-feely type. The best he can probably give is a pat on the shoulder that might feel a bit heavy with how he works out a lot. It would be up to you to initiate stuff like hand-holding or hugging, but I'm quite sure that that will take a very long while for him to warm up to.

QUALITY TIME: 7/10. I feel like this is the best love language for him. I feel like he's the type to prefer hanging out in peace and quiet, doing mundane things if he isn't vigorously training. The best hangout would probably be something like watching a scary movie together or chilling on the couch playing scrabble or whatever. Still, I think he'd want hangouts to not be so frequent as he gets pretty tired from social interaction.

GIFT GIVING: 5/10. He knows that couples usually give gifts to each other, but he doesn't really see the point in doing that unless the object he's going to give is something necessary. Basically, he doesn't like giving useless shit that will wither and die in a few days. So, he probably wouldn't randomly buy you romantic stuff like flowers or give you letters, but he'd definitely give you something useful like a pouch, or a table organizer, or a watch if you don't have one.

COMPATIBLE WITH: someone who is empathetic, but also able to set boundaries. I feel like he spent a lot of his time brewing negative feelings due to the disagreement between him and his brother and their lack of communication, which is why someone who is empathetic and isn't afraid to articulate their own feelings is suitable for him. He needs someone to learn from as he doesn't even know how to healthily process and assess his own emotions. But still, they should also be able to set boundaries and know how to stand up for themselves because he tends to be pretty harsh with his words.

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

crying through the kiss - Clint

900 Followers Milestone Celebration - kissing prompts

bio : This story is part of the 900 Followers Milestone Celebration - kissing prompts.

person ordering: @hbjhbjjh8

warnings : angst, fluff, tears, tw: postpartum depression, tw: breastfeeding, toddler, baby crying, motherhood

[my masterlist]

You were sure that the sound was piercing your brain and penetrating every cell, every nerve. Your body was like a tense string and you were getting closer and closer to the limit, the crossing of which could only mean one thing - you would fall to pieces and no one would pick you up.

Despite everything, you quickly entered the room and looked into the crib, taking the crying baby in your arms.

"Hush... Hush, little one. I'm here. I'm here..." you repeated, hugging your daughter and gently rocking her. You did it so automatically that you wondered if you'd ever be able to move normally. The child's body was still tense, and a cry escaped from his toothless mouth that tore you apart.

It was already dark, Clint should have been home a long time ago, but despite everything, you were still alone.

"Hush, Sophie... Daddy will be home soon... I'm really trying and..."

The grating of a key in the lock and after a moment you heard familiar footsteps. With great difficulty you held back the tears that were welling up under your eyelids. You didn't want your husband to see you in such a state. You tried to put your daughter in her bed, but she immediately started crying again, so you resignedly hugged her to your chest.

"Baby?" the door opened and you saw Clint. He looked surprised and a little scared when he entered your daughter's room. "I'm sorry, it took me longer than I thought. I should have called, but I didn't have the opportunity or..."

Sophie screamed even louder, and you were already rocking so hard that you looked like a roly-poly toy.

"Give me a moment." Clint said quickly and disappeared into the bathroom.

"Sure, sure..." you mumbled between the soothing sounds you tried to make, which had absolutely no effect on your daughter.

But after a few seconds, Clint appeared. He took off his shirt and was only wearing a white undershirt, he must have washed his hands too because you could smell the floral soap. He took Sophie from your arms and placed her on his chest, resting her small head on his shoulder.

"Poor thing, has she been crying for so long?" he asked, stroking her back with his hand, under which almost her whole body was hidden.

You shrugged, pushing the locks of hair away from your face. "The whole day, I think." You replied "I've tried everything, really... I don't know if it's the belly or something else..."

It was only then that Clint noticed it - you were still wearing the pajamas he saw you in in the morning, you had only thrown on a cardigan on top. Total exhaustion was written all over your face. His heart was breaking at the sight of you.

"Have you eaten anything?" he asked, the little one on his shoulder slowly calming down.

You looked away so he wouldn't see the tears welling up in your eyes, and nervously you started to fix something in the crib, you shook your head. "I didn't have time..." you replied quietly "It was...a hard day."

"Take a shower, honey. I'll take care of her, okay? You should rest."

You nodded and left the baby's room without a word.

Sophie was your dream come true and when she came into your lives four months ago, you and Clint were the happiest people in the world. You knew how much he dreamed of having a family and you couldn't imagine anything more beautiful than a little baby with his eyes. Sophie was perfect, but motherhood wasn't, or at least you hadn't experienced it yet.

When you closed the bathroom door behind you, you sat down on the bathtub and hid your face in your hands. You didn't know if you were tired, sore, sleep-deprived, hungry, or maybe all of the above. You looked up and saw a breast pump standing on the shelf. That's right, you should still pump milk for Sophie...

When you entered the bedroom, Clint was sitting on the bed in his boxers and glancing at the monitor on the table. Sophie was sleeping soundly in her bed. Sometimes you hated him for how well he handled her, how submissive she was in his hands.

"Maybe I should order some food? Would you like something?" he asked, looking at you with affection.

You shook your head and sat down next to him. You were wearing clean pajamas, not the ones that smelled of milk. You even managed to wash your hair and put on some eye patches, although you weren't sure if they would be able to help you.

You flinched when you felt his hand on your back, he stroked it like he did with your daughter, and you immediately closed your eyes.

"I'm sorry." Clint said quietly "I've had a lot of work lately. I shouldn't have left you alone with her for so long."

"She's my daughter, I should be able to take care of her, right?" you replied quietly "Just today... And yesterday and..."

A sob escaped your throat and you hid your face in your hands again. You didn't protest when Clint pulled you to his chest and hugged you tightly, kissing the top of your head. Tears flooded your cheeks.

“I’m trying so hard, Clint…” you sobbed. “But she was crying so hard and I couldn’t do anything… I’ve breastfed her, changed her diapers and put in three loads of laundry. My pajamas are full of stains from the food I eat in a hurry and from the milk.” you sobbed again “I wake up every two hours at night… I look like a zombie and even though I try so hard, I feel like I can’t handle it… that one thing would be enough to break me. I love you and Sophie, but I feel like you’d be better off without me. She listens to you, you put her to sleep in five minutes and I couldn’t calm her down all day…”

The next words poured out of your mouth and Clint listened to them patiently, although with each one he felt his heart breaking more and more. He took care of the baby whenever he could, he kept repeating that you should rest, that he would handle it. But you had a strange conviction that you should be a super woman and handle everything on your own. And now it was too much for you.

“Sweetheart…” he began when you stopped talking, but you continued to sob, “You’re the best mom to Sophie. But you take on too much. I’ve told you so many times that you should rest, that I can take care of her…”

"I'm still breastfeeding her."

“Then stop it.” You looked at him like he was crazy, but you saw nothing but calm and concern in his brown eyes. “You’ve already given her so much. It won’t hurt her to start formula now. She’s a strong, healthy girl thanks to you. This whole lactation terror…”

"W-What?" you chuckled.

Clint smiled uncertainly. "You've been reading about that lately, right?" You nodded, because you didn't think Clint had noticed. "I think you should consider it. It'll give you more freedom. You won't have to worry if you've pumped enough milk, and I'll be able to get up to her at night without waking you up."

“Baby…” Clint brushed your damp hair away from your face. “You’re the best. You’re amazing. You’re all my dreams come true and you’ve given me the most amazing daughter in the world. But I can’t watch you wear yourself out because you want to prove something to the world and to yourself. We’re family. I’m your husband and I won’t let you do that.”

“I don’t know if I can do this any other way, Clint…” more tears rolled down your cheeks. “My whole life I’ve felt like I had to prove I was the best, that I had to handle everything…”

"But now you have me. And you're perfect for me."

His warm lips brushed your wet cheek, then the corner of your mouth, until he finally slowly and carefully kissed you. Clint was always gentle and affectionate towards you, and now you needed him even more. Your hand tenderly stroked his bearded cheek as you kissed him back. You could feel the salty taste of your tears, but that wasn't important. It was the two of you that mattered.

"I guess you're right..." you said quietly as he hugged you again "I should let it go..."

"Mhmm... I saw a newly opened beauty salon in town. Would you like to go there?"

"You're crazy!"

"Maybe, but I love you." He kissed your temple. "Let me take care of you, baby. You know I want nothing more."

You nodded. For the first time in a long time, you felt relief. You knew that everything wouldn't change right away, but at least you had a plan. You were a family, you had to work together.

And when Clint returned to the bedroom with a sandwich and tea for you, he saw you fast asleep. You looked exactly like your daughter, and he had never felt happier than when he had both of you by his side.

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (11/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: The dinner is in full swing. And friends sharing a dessert is pretty normal - right?

Warnings: FLIRTING, PINING (you've been warned!), Charles is sweet, a bit of angst (at the end, beware)

Word Count: 3.5k

series masterlist

previous part

A/N: if my story is tooooo slow burn, feel free to tell me! feedback is appreciated! love ya.

According to Google, cold water on the wrists helps against heat, because the blood circulating in the body is cooled there quickly and thus the body temperature should drop. 

So why the hell are you getting hotter?

About five minutes ago, you fled the table after Charles sat down next to you and your brain stopped working and before you could sweat through your clothes. Charles had looked at you with a concerned look after he made room for you to get up from the bench, but you had just smiled at him kindly and once the table was out of sight you were able to take a decent breath. 

About four minutes ago you were frantically googling for a way to get rid of the heat Charles was causing inside you, and since you don't have lukewarm showers here at the restaurant, nor do you have any essential oils with you, the only solution was cold water on your wrists. 

And for about three minutes you've been standing here, letting water run over your skin, and as long as you don't have to think about Charles and his touch, your body seems to cool down as well. But how could you not think about him when he is all your thoughts revolve around?

How silky his hair must be? Or how soft his skin? Or how gentle his touch? 

You lean your forehead against the cold tiles on the wall, though you would have preferred to bang your head against them. 

You can't think that way about Charles. About your roommate. Your friend. And especially not after two days together. You two don't even really know each other. So why can't your thoughts stop spinning around him?

Before you can actually bang your skull against the wall, the door to the ladies' room opens. 

"Are you okay?" asks Kika, leaning against the wall opposite you. She glances at your hands, which you're still holding under running water, and then looks at you with raised brows. 

You clear your throat before turning off the water and reaching for a paper towel to dry yourself off. "I'm fine."

Your new friend reaches out her hand, and you hand her the paper so she can toss it into the trash can beside her. "You can talk to me, Y/N. You know that, right? There is nothing you confide in me that I would ever tell anyone." When you raise an eyebrow, she nods slightly. "Not even Pierre."

You lick your tongue over your teeth once. "I appreciate that. Thank you."

Kika smiles. "I mean it. You can call any time of the day or night. I promise I'll always be there for you. Even if we've only known each other for a short time."

"I'll keep that in mind." You move toward the door. "But then don't complain if I really do call in the middle of the night and wake you up."

She pushes off the wall and puts an arm around your shoulder. "As long as you don't make me get up at six in the morning, this is going to be a super friendship." She gives you a quick squeeze before dropping her arm. "You ready?"

Together, you walk back to the table, where the guys have their noses stuck in the menus. Charles is still sitting in the seat next to yours, a fresh beer in front of him, and as you girls approach the table, he looks up. His look is more unsettled than concerned as he gets up so you two can sit down again. This time, however, he leaves some space between you, for which you are very grateful. 

"Is everything okay?" he asks quietly, so that only you can understand him. 

You nod. "Everything's fine." Seeing that he doesn't believe you, you come clean. Well, part of the truth. "I was just a little warm. It's okay, I promise."

He seems to buy that a little bit more, because he slides the menu on the table so you can both look at it. "We were going to order dessert before we leave. Would you like some?"

You take a look at the map and have to concentrate on every single letter so that you can ignore Charles' gaze on you. But that's easier said than done, because out of the corner of your eye you can see how his gaze drifts from your eyes, over your nose and further down, before he licks his lips and also turns back to the card. 

You think you read something about tiramisu somewhere on the menu, which is why you suggest just that. When you find it, you put your finger on the card. "This." Your finger follows the letters and finally gets stuck on the price, which is pretty high for a dessert. You draw air through your teeth. "Or maybe not."

Charles leans back and runs a hand through his hair once. "The tiramisu is actually meant for two people." He points to the heading above some of the dessert offerings. "Look. Dessert pour deux."

And indeed. The dessert menu is divided into individual servings of ice cream, panna cotta and chocolate souflée, and desserts for two like a moist slice of chocolate cake and dumplings filled with pureed fruit. And tiramisu. 

"Then I'll have something else," you answer him, but before you can say anything, Charles leans forward. 

"If you want, we can share the tiramisu." His voice is low, but deep. 

You don't even dare look at his face, because then you'd have to disappear right back to the bathroom to cool off. How can the suggestion of sharing a dessert sound so seductive? And why doesn't your heart realize that it doesn't have to beat so fast because of it? After all, friends can share dessert without ulterior motives. Or longing. Or anything else. 

You smile at him. "I'd love to.""

When the waitress comes back to the table to take orders, Charles orders the tiramisu with two spoons. As she disappears, he turns back to you. 

"So, what do you think of my friends?" he asks, taking a sip of his beer, which you only now see is non-alcoholic. 

"They're all pretty awful. Hardly bearable," you answer him. He almost chokes on his drink as he lets out a snort. "How can you be friends with them?"

He puts the bottle back on the table. "Good question. They were just there at some point and I guess I missed the time when I could have gotten rid of them. I guess it's just too late now."

"If you want to get rid of us," Kika straddles the conversation, "all you have to do is say so." She scoots closer to you and reaches for your hand to intertwine your fingers. "But you do realize that we're definitely keeping Y/N."

"Ouch." Charles spins on the bench and puts his knee on the cushion, mere inches from your thigh. "So you already like her better than me?" His gaze shifts to you. "Nothing against you, of course. You know how much I like you."

You don't have a second to think about his words before Kika pulls you against her so that your back is against her front. "But of course! We're both going to be best friends eventually! Besides, you can't tell me she didn't immediately captivate you too with her beautiful smile and charm."

You lightly slap Kika's forearm and try to squirm out of her embrace, but she won't let go. Which is why you can only look straight ahead, directly at Charles, whose gaze is gentle and loving. Dimples bore into his cheeks as he smiles. "She did."

Kika lets go of you and you turn to her briefly, giving her an evil look that's meant to express "What was that all about?" as several waiters come to the table and place various plates and bowls with all variations of desserts in front of you. Charles puts a spoon down for you and places the plate with the huge piece of tiramisu between you so that you can both eat from it comfortably.

He smiles at you and points his own spoon at the dessert. "Ladies first."

Gratefully, you smile at him before using the spoon to cut off a piece and shove it into your mouth. On your tongue, the tiramisu seems to explode and your eyes roll back and you can muster just enough strength to keep from moaning out in pleasure. In all your life, you've never eaten dessert so delicious. 

"That good?" asks Charles, who also slips a piece between his lips. A bit of cream sticks to the corner of his mouth and as he licks it away with his tongue, you have to swallow. 

"It's perfect," you reply, taking another bite so you don't have to look at Charles. 

"Don't be in such a hurry," Charles says, pressing his spoon down on yours as you go to take a third piece so you can't move it. "I thought we were sharing the tiramisu."

You jiggle your spoon a little to pull it out from under his, then point it at him. "You're already using my brush. I think I should get a bigger piece of this." You're about to dig the spoon back into the dessert when Charles pulls the plate away. "Hey!"

"So that's how we play, huh?" You can't even react as quickly as he's shoveling in the tiramisu. One bite after another, he pops it into his mouth before you can lean over and grab the plate to pull it away. As he goes to take another piece, you swat his spoon away with yours. 

"You've already eaten half!" you scold him affectionately. "Leave some for me, too, you glutton!"

"First come, first served," he responds, already holding out his spoon, but you grab the plate and turn your back to Charles so he'd have to reach around you to get to dessert. That way you would still be able to take a few bites in peace without having to fight for it, because for sure Charles wouldn't come that close to you for dessert. 

You feel the heat even before you can follow through with your plan. 

Charles moves close to you so he can snake his arm around you. His chest presses against your back as he leans in to look over your shoulder, so he can just find the tiramisu he's so desperate for. His hot breath is on your ear, on your neck, and you're glad there's a sweater and blouse between you, because if you were touching - really touching - you'd have a heart attack, you're sure of it. 

"Come on, just a little bit more," he breathes. 

Your body freezes and you tear your eyes open as if you've seen a ghost. Your grip on the plate tightens, your fingers almost clench around the china, and Charles's scent in your nose fogs your brain. 

Why does Charles have such an effect on you?

"Stop it," Kika intervenes, taking the plate from your hand. "You're arguing like an old married couple." 

"We're not," counters Charles, who now also snakes his second arm around you to get at the plate Kika has placed in front of him. But it's a little too short, so he slides a little closer to you. "If we were fighting properly, this would definitely end differently." His fingers get a grip on the edge of the plate, and you're too frozen to do anything about it. He moves away from you, moving back to his seat and shoving two more bites between his jaws before pushing the rest in your direction. "I'm willing to share with you."

Kika nudges you, bringing you out of your stupor. You turn to face him. "And what do you want in return?"

Charles smiles at you. "Just your friendship."

You return his smile, not even noticing the slight twinge in your chest. "Deal."

"This is where deals are made?" asks Lando as he sits down in the empty seat in front of you - Charles' old seat. "How much money are we talking about?"

"It's not about money," Charles replies, his tone sounding somehow cold, very different from just a few moments ago. 

You nod in agreement. "It's about something much more important." You point to the last bite of tiramisu in front of you, "It's about tiramisu."

Lando's gaze moves from your face to the dessert, then back to you. "That's actually very important. I know a pâtisserie in Nice that serves the best tiramisu in the whole world. Maybe we can go there together sometime?"

Before you can answer, the waitress comes to the table with the bill. As you are about to pay, Charles gives you a scowl. "I invited you, so I'm paying for you."

You roll your eyes. "You don't have to pay for me."

"I'd like to, though. I owe you that, as badly as I treated you today."

Since you can't argue with him on that, you let it happen and when all the bills are paid, the small group stands outside the restaurant. The wind has gotten even colder and inside you are scolding yourself for not taking a thick jacket. You blame it on Charles and his mood swings. 

As you wrap your arms around yourself to get a little warmer, Charles hands you his jacket. "My sweater is thick. And I don't get cold easily."

Hesitantly, you slip the jacket on and are immediately enveloped by his scent. The fabric is heavy but feels comfortable on you and you have to suppress the urge to smell it. You feel warm and would like to snuggle into the jacket. You stifle a yawn and smile at him. "Thanks."

"So," Pierre props an arm on Kika's shoulder. "What club do we want to go to now?"

"The Jimmy'z is about to open," Lando suggests, looking at his wristwatch. "Or La Rascasse. There's supposed to be a cool DJ there today."

The clubs tell you something, but from stories you know how expensive the drinks are there. And since you don't want Charles to pay for you all night and you can't afford Monaco's nightlife, your evening is declared over, for better or worse. 

Kika raises her hands. "I'm afraid I have to get up early tomorrow, which is why it's time for me to go to bed."

You're glad she's the first to get out. "I'm pretty tired. So I'm not in either," you fib, curling your lips into a thin, apologetic smile. 

Charles head jerks in your direction. "Shall we go home then?" he offers. 

"It's fine, you go party," you reply, moving a little closer to him. "Your day has been pretty lousy. So go get drunk with your friends. But call if you want to be picked up. Then I'll come get you."

"Are you sure?" he asks, unsure. "I don't have to go with the others either."

You wave it off. "I'm sure." 

"Do you still want me to walk you to the car?" He hands you the car keys. "It's around the corner."

"I'll be fine, Charles," you smile, "I'm a big girl."

"I didn't doubt that," he assures you, but still seems undecided about whether to drive home with you or go with his friends. "Would you really be okay with me going?"

"If you ask me again, I'll punch you."

Charles smiles. "Will you let me know when you get home?"

"I will."

Charles seems satisfied with your answers, so he gives the boys a thumbs up. "Can I get a ride with you, Pierre?" When the latter nods, he turns to you. His smile is affectionate and gentle. "I'll see you at home."

The sentence sends warmth coursing through your body. "I'll see you at home."

Lando stands next to you, "My car is also around the corner. We can just walk the bit together," he offers and you nod gratefully before Kika wraps her arms around you. 

"Well, you have my number. You can get in touch if you like," she says, giving you a hug. "And if you don't, I'll be very mad at you." Her grin is wide and she pokes you in the side before returning to the other boys. "Don't be a stranger!"

"Don't worry, I won't," you reply, nodding goodbye to Pierre and Max before your gaze drifts to Charles. You raise your hand and wave at him, which he returns. Then you turn and start walking. Lando walks alongside you. 

"So, how about that tiramisu in Nice?" he asks, his hands buried in his pockets. 

You laugh out loud. "You're not letting up, are you?"

He shakes his head and grins. "No way. Unless you want me to, in which case I'd let it go, of course. I'm not a stalker, after all." He looks down at you. 

"Well, it wasn't on my shopping list," you retort, collecting a slight nudge in return. "What? It was meant to be nice!"

"You better believe it." 

You both turn the corner and your Renault enters your field of vision. "I've never been to Nice before. So for all I care, we can go there." 

"Great." He takes a deep breath. "Then wouldn't it be better if I had your phone number? Then we could set up a day to go there."

You raise an eyebrow. "You already have my Instagram, isn't that enough? Not that you'll actually turn into a stalker," you joke.

"Okay, wow." He grins. "If you don't want to, of course I can understand. After all, we've only known each other since today."

"It's all good, Lando. Don't worry about it," you reassure him, telling him your number so he can type it into his cell phone. Then he calls you so you have his number as well. 

"Thanks."

"No problem."

You come to a stop in front of your car, Lando looking at you confused. "Is this your car?" When you nod, he looks like a light's gone on. "I thought you guys came in the Ferrari. Had me wondering why he'd let someone else drive his Pista."

You try not to let the confusion show. "Um, no. We took mine." You unlock the car and open the door. "Thank you for a lovely evening and for walking me to my car."

He glances sideways for a moment. His jawline is so sharp it could certainly cut paper. "You're welcome." He wraps his arms around you and squeezes. "And about Nice, I'll text you." He breaks away from you and brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. "Get home safe, okay?"

"I'll do my best," you smile and get in the car. As you drive off, you see Lando waving in your rearview mirror. 

You can't help but think of his statement. Charles has a Ferrari? Those cars must cost hundreds of thousands of euros. How can he afford such a thing? Do people in the car business really earn so much that they can just buy a Ferrari?

And why does he insist on driving your rickety old Renault when he apparently has a super car at his disposal? Is he hiding something from you? And if so, then what is it?

Suddenly you realize how little you actually know about him. But surely he will have reasons for not telling you - right? You decide not to push him to tell you about his car or his job, but to wait for him to tell you on his own. Friends don't push each other to do that. And you are patient enough to wait for him. 

Before you can think about it further, you turn onto the street where your apartment is and immediately slam on the brakes. 

Across the street, directly across from your apartment, is a green Nissan with a license plate you are very familiar with. Your hands start to sweat. What does he want here? How long has he been waiting for you? There doesn't seem to be anyone in the car. So where is he? 

You turn a little on the seat to get a better view of the street, but it is deserted. Not a soul is on the road, you are all alone. And for sure you're not stupid enough to go home now, where he's surely waiting for you. 

You grab your phone and dial a number. It beeps a few times before the person on the other end picks up. "Y/N? Are you okay?"

You bite your bottom lip and feel your heart pounding in your chest. "No," you answer, and your eyes dart around, trying to spot anything out there. To spot him. But you can't see anything. Which makes you feel even more anxious than you already are. 

"Nothing's okay."

next part

[bandgie]

Poor Baby

Idol!Bangchan x sexworker!reader

a/n: a lot of you guys asked for a part two of this post and I will provide!

synopsis: You need to make end meet with your bills. When your boss gives you a huge opportunity to make big money, you hop at it (even if it impacts your dignity). Lucky for you, your favorite customer happens to be coming in that day.

cw: 18+ MDNI, glory holes, PIV, no protection (use it!), fingering, oral (f!receiving), pussy slapping, cursing, cock drunk reader, reader is called Nyx/Chris is called Koala, mentions of Lee Know, cum eating, Chris is more confident this time, Chris is called 'daddy' and he plays into it, brief mentions of sub-space, idk that's it

3.9k words

"I dunno, sounds too risky," you bite your fingernails as you speak. The offer is a good one, triple your hourly and bonus tips. You were on the verge of not being able to make rent, but your boss literally put this opportunity in your lap. Had you been a higher rating girl, you wouldn't have to resort to being a gloryhole.

"Okay I see what you mean," he starts, "but it's only for the weekend. Five hours tops! I'll give you a 20 minute break in the middle of it." Your boss looks at you with expecting eyes. You would take the deal in a heartbeat, but it goes against the only rule you have. "I don't feel safe letting my clients raw dog me. What if they get me sick?"

Your boss shakes his head profusely, "No! Come on Nyx, you know I wouldn't let that happen to any of my girls. They'll take the test to see if they're clean in advance. I get it, it goes against your morals or whatever, but it's big money. Huge! People with names are going to come, literally, and I know you need this more than ever. It's why I came to you first."

You sigh, looking down at the hands in your lap. He's right, and he's a good boss. You have a good job, nice coworkers, and a boss who genuinely looks after you. That's hard to find in this business. After all, you do need the money. Doing this gig for the weekend will help tremendously, and you might even afford to take a few days off.

Finally, you nod. "Yeah I guess you're right. When should I show up?"

It was a lot sooner than you had anticipated. You and the other girls weren't allowed to know who was coming. Like your boss said, they were well-known, so they preferred to keep their identity a secret. That part did make you a little nervous if you're being honest, but you found comfort in knowing that they wouldn't be able to see you.

It would be better this way. Have half your body in a wall, legs open, let the dude use you until he cuts in mere minutes, and get on with the next. Men cum easily, especially when they used women like a fleshlight. Perhaps time will go fast like that, and you could start planning on what you can do on your mini vacation.

So here you were, upper body laid on a small bed chest down with a bar in front for support. Your lower body was out through the hole, legs standing for support. It was slightly uncomfortable, but you could manage. Other women were in different positions all around you, some higher and some lower. Your boss and a few of other workers helped lube you up. You're thankful for that because you know damn well the men coming in would just rail into you.

A few minutes passed before you could hear shuffling, murmurs, the unbuckling of pants. You tensed in anticipation. You were grateful they couldn't see you, but not being able to see them was an entirely different story. You gasped when you felt fingers explore your folds. They were impatient, violating, and too harsh. You bit your lower lip from barking at the man, trying to think of all the cash you'd be swimming in soon.

It's just for the weekend.

-

Chris found himself, once again, in front of your establishment. He had already gone though the club, the secret sunflower door, the code. The only difference was that he was accompanied by none other than the person who told him about this sex club, Lee Know. They both wore disguises, face masks and hats to conceal their face.

"I can't believe you convinced me to do this again," Chris groans. Lee Know only smiles and laughs. Minho pats him on the back, "You're the one that agreed. Plus they have something special going on. You'll like it." Chris follows Minho from the main floor of the sex club and into the back. It's the familiar path to where he met you, but way further back.

Christopher would be lying if he wasn't anticipating on meeting you again. It's embarrassing, but he jerks himself off at the thought of you. The way you feel, the way you taste, how patient you were with him. He would rather die than tell Minho about you, he would get teased until the end of days. It's silly to think he'd see you here, but he can't help but hope.

"Something special? Is that why I had to get tested for STD's?" Chris questions. Rather than giving a verbal answer, Minho hums. He didn't have to do that before the session with you, and you let him go raw. Maybe it's only for special event, he thinks.

Chris and Minho approach a booth with a person inside. She wears a plastic smile on her face, hair done perfectly and acrylic nails. "Names please?" Her voice is almost drained out by the moans and slapping sounds coming from the other side. It's just a curtain that covers it, so all sounds can be heard.

A blush quickly finds its way to Chris's face and ears. He's so flustered that Minho has to answer, "Koala and Rino." The lady in the booth seems completely dismissive about what's going on behind the curtain. She looks through a few pages before nodding, "Ah I see you right here. Please enjoy your time, the session ends in about 2 hours."

Lee Know nods in response and grabs Chris by the sleeve the drag him behind the curtain. To say he was surprised was an understatement. He couldn't even comprehend the sight at first. Men were covered in sweat, pants completely down. Cum was stained below where the women were placed. The smell was strong, and it made Chris grimace.

He turned to Minho, expecting the same reaction. Instead, Minho was looking as if he was at heaven's gates. "Isn't it beautiful?" Chris stays quiet rather than answering. Minho walks further in and Christopher trails behind. The women have only their lower body sticking out, some in doggy others in missionary position.

Chan has only seen glory holes in porn, never even considering seeing one in person.

"So here," Minho points at the wall above one of the women, "is the name of the hole. They don't provide pictures, which sucks. If you see a name you like or know, you just basically fuck it. Cum in it, don't come it. Touch it, don't. The main rule is to not reach in the cut out. Keep your hands to what's exposed, or you'll get kicked out. They're pretty strict when it comes to shit like this."

Chris doesn't bother asking how Lee Know knows so much, it's in his name afterall. "I dunno," Chris tentatively looks around the room. Other men seem to have face masks on, but some don't. He can recognize people form TV, the news, even some older politicians. Lee Know sighs, "Bro, they don't care about you. No offense. They're just here to get their dick wet and leave. It's only gay if you make eye contact."

Lee Know's joke lightens the mood, and Chris finds himself laughing alongside him. They did pay a pretty dime to be here for the special event, he might as well enjoy it. The two men go off in their separate ways not long after. It feel weird for Chris to window-shop like this, almost uncomfortable. It's not until he comes across a familiar name that makes his heart skip.

Nyx, he almost sings. You have your ass out at the height of his hips. He takes a few steps closer as if he couldn't believe it's actually you. Chris takes note of your of your swollen clit, the gaping hole, the cum that drips down your thighs. Without thinking, he reaches out his ands to rub your ass. Not sexually, but more in a comforting way. He can tell this takes you by surprise because you jolt.

"Poor baby," he says sympathetically. It's not loud enough for you to hear, but he can't help but want to console you. From the description he read of you before, he thought this was the last place you'd be. His hands stay soft, and he finds himself kneeling. He can feel the wet floor staining his pants, but he doesn't care.

To put on a show, you wiggle your ass for him. You think the man behind you is going to shove himself in, but you feel a hot tongue. You gasp as the sensation. Since you first clock in, no one had eaten you out. You honestly didn't expect anyone to. You're covered in other men's cum, who in their right mind would consider such a thing?

Chris would, in a heartbeat. If it's to soothe you, he would do anything. He feels like he owes you something. Sure he paid you after the last interaction, but it still felt like it wasn't enough. Tasting men's cum isn't pleasant, but hearing your muffled moans though the walls was worth it.

It reminds him of last time, how desperate you sounded with his mouth on you. He wished you could see his face, watching as your mouth twisted in pleasure. Even now, he's still wishing for the same. His mask is pulled down under his chin while he devours you. Your legs struggle to keep you up right, but you stay on your tiptoes.

You can hear him slurping behind you, his hands gripping the back of your thighs to keep you spread. His tongue flicks over your bud and goes back to teasing your entrance. You could feel your arousal seeping out, and that seems to spur him on more. Your hands grip the bar above the bed, and you so desperately want to grip his hair instead.

Despite being here for three hours, you haven't came. You've gotten close to finishing, but men always finished before you did. It left you frustrated, yearning. You pray that the man eating you keeps going until you cum, but you know better than to hope for that. Instead, you try to grind against his face with what little movement you have.

"Shit. You like that baby?" You hear him ask. His voice is vaguely familiar, a twist of a distinct accent you swear you've heard before. You nod though he can't see. "Fuck yes. Don't stop," you moan. Perhaps it wasn't smart to command the client to please you, it's the other way around after all. To your surprise, he keeps going. He has his tongue dip inside your pussy, feeling your smooth walls.

It's so unbelievably sexy of him to eat you out. He must look humiliating; on his knees, sucking out the cum of other men into his mouth, the filthy sounds that leave his throat. He's eating you like he's never had a good meal in his life, like he missed your pussy. His tongue is experienced too, and you can't help but think this is also familiar.

That recognizable knot in your stomach gathers, and you begin shaking. If he pulls away now, you think, I'll quit. You don't even have to tell him you're close, he can feel how you tighten around his tongue. He quickly pulls away and shoves a finger inside before you could complain. It's difficult to eat you out now that his finger is in the way, but he can use his other hand to replace his mouth.

Chris rubs your clit in circles while he pumps you with his other finger. You squeal at the impact, feeling how his hand meets your ass when he goes deep. Your toes curl, eyes roll back to your head, and loudly moan when you cum on his fingers. It's been so long, so long since you've cum from a client. The last time was with that Koala guy, the one with the...accent.

Realization hits you quickly. You don't even have the chance to say anything with how he finger fucks you through your orgasm. "Wait! wait wait wait..." Chris immediately stops when he hears you. He gently removed his hand from you and you almost fall limp. His hands catch your waist and he keeps you up.

"Are you okay?" His voice is full of concern, full of care. Yeah, that can only be one person. You laugh breathlessly, body still quivering from your recent orgasm. "Shit Koala. How long has it been? Like three months?" You imagine he's choked up, unable to answer you. You've had a lot of customers, and it's impossible to remember them all. Koala, however, has left quite the impression on you.

He laughs awkwardly, "Something like that yeah. Uh...how ya been?"

You blow a raspberry and chuckle, "I don't think I'm in a position for a little reunion. You came here to fuck no?" Chris is a little stunned with your words, but agrees. "Yes. Well no. I mean yes, but not like-" he keeps rambling. You take pity on him and decide to take the lead, "No no I get it. You came here to fuck my pussy right?"

Chris feels like his face is on fire. He wish he could deny it, but he can't. He did come here with hopes of seeing you, to feel you again. Sure he could have fucked any girl here, but how could he when he knew you were here. All pretty and prepped for him. "What if I said yes?" he teases. "Would that make you happy?"

It's surprising to hear Koala tease you back, but you're more than happy to oblige. "Hmm...maybe. It's been a while since you've fucked me, might not be as good as before." Chris laughs, hands squeezing your ass, "I think you know you're lying to yourself. Got you cummin' on my tongue in minutes. Imagine what I could do with my cock."

His confidence has you horny. Before, he was pliant and submissive. He's a totally different man now, who knows what happened in three months. It could also be the fact that he can't see you properly, so it gives him some courage to be bold. No matter, you find it beyond attractive.

"All this talking and no fucking," you complain. "Maybe you are rusty."

In all honesty, Chris hasn't really fucked after you. He rarely did in the first place, but he genuinely thinks no one can compete with your cunt. He knows you're joking with him, but it still makes him nervous. Three months is a long time, he might have lack in some aspects now that he's the one taking control.

Still, he's given such a golden opportunity to show you that he can please you. Chris's grip on your ass tightens for a brief second before he grabs ahold of the base of his cock. It's already hard, red from screaming at Chris to put it in. He uses one hand to guide his cock into your abused hole and the other to rub soothing circles on your waist.

You can't help but smile. It doesn't how dirty he can talk or act, he's still a gentleman at heart. The nearly forgotten stretch makes you whimper when he puts his tip in. His cock is hot and can easily slide in with no problem. Despite that, he still take his time. Chris really wants you to feel how you pussy stretches around him, how he can glide against your warm walls.

Your knuckles turn while from gripping the bar so hard. You almost want to scream at him to hurry up and fuck you. Instead, you find yourself whimpering the contact. Your hips move against him to try and slip his dick in. It works a little, feeling his cock roughly an inch deeper. You can hear him moan behind the wall, a breathy higher pitched whine that makes your cunt wetter by the second

"You still sound so pretty," you whisper. You doubt he can hear you from the other men and women fucking, but he does. Little did you know, that he has his ear against the wall. Chris just needs to hear how you sound, what noises you make. He knows he must look so pathetic, and he's grateful that Lee Know is no where in sight.

Finally, he fills you up completely with his girth. Your legs twitch and squeeze together at the intrusion. You can feel the tingles that travel up and down your body from pleasure. Whimpers and moans leave you lips when he starts thrusting. You're thankful for the wall that separates you two. Before, you had tried to remain professional. Now you can be as loud as you please without worrying. Well...that's what you think at least.

The combined feeling of your soft pussy and beautiful moans break Chris's sanity. Both of his hands grip your sides so he could bring you to meet his thrusts. It's so loud and wet, he thinks you two must be the loudest in the room. Chris loves watching as your cunt drools on his cock, leaving strings of arousal on your ass and his thighs.

You're on the verge on tears letting this man fuck you relentlessly. It feels so indescribably amazing, you let your mouth hang open. "Oh fuucckk," Chris hears you groan. Heat and pleasure remain in your lower stomach, slowly building. It's torture with how it feels like too much and not enough all at once.

You find yourself wishing you could use your hand to rub your clit, but the wall prevents that. instead, you try grinding your thighs together tightly for stimulation. It works, but at the cost of choking Koala's dick. He whimpers, almost pained from the sudden tightness. He moves his hands to the inner parts of your thighs and spreads them open in response.

"Gonna break my fuckin' cock," he mumbles, lightly laughing. Chris resumes his thrusts, but he notices the constant moving of your hips. So much so that he even slips out momentarily. He thinks that it's getting too much for you, but the way you're begging for him to shove it back in says otherwise.

"What's the matter baby?" His voice is light. His strokes are softer now, giving you the ability to speak properly. You take a few heavy breaths before answer, "Touch me." You sounds so desperate, so out of your character that Chris almost wants to tease you further.

Almost.

He concludes that you must be getting close, just wanting to extra rubbing to really get off. Chris grants your wish and uses his fingers to rub circles on your clit. Your reaction is immediate, bucking and crying out in gratitude. Chris smiles fondly at how your body replies to his touch. Now he can tease you without feeling guilty.

"What do you saaayy?" He speaks in a sing-songy voice. Had you been fully cognitive, you would've cursed him. You headspace isn't working though, and you find yourself expressing your appreciation quickly. "Thank you daddy. Thank you thank you. I needed it sooo bad."

The pet name throws him off, making him stutter his hips for a split second. Chris deeply blushes at the term, unsure if he hates it or loves it quite yet. "Yeah? You like daddy's big cock in you?" He decides to test it out. Maybe it's because you're beginning to enter the sub-space zone, but you cum unexpectedly on his dick.

Chris feels you twitch around him and convulse. There was no warning, save for how creamy his length had gotten from your excitement. He almost praised you for how beautifully you painted his cock. Chris pulled himself in and out of you slowly to watch the white substance spread.

You couldn't stop moaning, fully crying from the orgasm. You normally had a good gauge on when you could cum and how to prolong it, but Koala had proven to fuck you up in more ways than one. You body shook and hugged his cock practically lovingly. Feeling him slide his dick slowly inside of you only make you wail louder.

Once Chris felt like you had come down enough, he fucked you with intent. He doesn't know how he was able to last this long, but he's chasing his own orgasm now. You can do nothing else but to take it. You groan everything he hits your deep, tip touching your womb. You can feel your cream dripping down your thighs.

This only encourages Chris more to finish. He wants nothing more than to mix your arousals together. Chris throws his head back and groans, letting his dick settle fully inside you when he cums. Hot spurt bursts in your tummy and you moan at the warmth. You usually detest having clients cum in you, the clean up was irritating. Koala, however, is an exception. He's invited to cum where he pleased when it comes to you.

Hearing him though the walls is bliss, and you wish you could see his face. He's probably still wearing that stupid mask, you think.

Chris lets himself give a few more good thrusts before pulling out, leaving you empty. He uses his thumb to spread your pussy lips to look at how your cunt pools his cum out. He hums at the sight, and gives your pussy a slap. You jolt and yelp at the contact, still sensitive.

"Guess I'll take you answer as a yes," he suddenly says.

Rather than leaving, Chris keeps massaging his cum and your own around your lower lips. You sigh contently as you feel him explore your folds. He's not doing it hard enough to give intense pleasure, but enough to feel soothing. It must be a mess down there, but Chris is entranced by the sight.

He so distracted that he didn't hear Lee Know's footsteps coming at the side of him. It's not until Chris feels his presence that he turns. They make eye contact for a moment before Chris straightens up, wiping his wet hands on the wall. The men have a silent exchange of words before Chris withdrawals his hands from you.

Before you can protest, Koala gives you brief reassurance. "I'll see you tomorrow."

You hear his footsteps leave along with another pair of feet. His sudden departure leaves you feeling somewhat cold, but you quickly dismiss the feeling. It's business, nothing personal. It's something you've had to remind yourself for years working this job. This particular instance, though, leaves you more than just your pussy empty.

-

"See you tomorrow," Lee Know mocks Chris's earlier words on the way home. Chris has no choice but to put up with Lee know antics. He keeps rubbing in his face how he got to fuck five different girls while Chris only did one. Not that it really matters to Chris, but he knows that Lee Know is much more aware of his little crush now.

After finishing up his laughter, Lee Know throws an arm over Chris's shoulder. "I'm just teasing you man. But I was right you know. That you would like it." Chris can't help but smile upon seeing his friend's cheesy expression. "Yeah yeah, whatever," he playfully rolls his eyes.

"But really," Lee Know questions, "You'd be down to go again? Just for her?" Chris stops walking for a second to think, eyes up to the sky. The night is clear, stars and moon shining down on them. He doesn't know you well, only that your pussy and his cock belong together. Going to that club often would hurt his wallet over time, but he's starting to think that it may be worth it.

"Yeah, just for her."

a/n: really hope you liked it! feedback is appreciated. I am not planning on making a third part to this imma be honest, but I might write an epilogue if it's highly requested.

update!: third part here

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Hey!!! I just got the most amazing idea ever!! (probably 🤭) I know that Franco had just lose his grandfather and he had to do FP. And basically everyone (the media & paparazzi just decide to hustle him despite him clearly not wanting to talk or do anything for them. Which is why he wears headphones and cap). So this is more of James with a wife reader. She is practically comforted and was with him since she always does that to everyone. Franco was just so young and she wanted to cocoon him in her warmth. From having bad weather to that awful FP which he crashed and later Alex did the same🙃🙃 Everyone especially the mechanics had to double their work because race starts in like 3 hours after quali. And how can they fix two cars in just that shirt period of time??? Being able to fix one was a miracle, but fixing two? They need to call everyone at the factory it seems😮‍💨😮‍💨 And then Alex not starting the race and Franco struggle in the rain because Williams didn't want to put wet tyres and then later crashed making the stewards flagging the race as red. You know, just a shitty day at the office. Williams out of the race:(( Everyone frustrated, tension arises, more work to do with how the race turns out to be. James admired her about that. Keeping calm, composure and bringing in warmth to everyone at the paddock (maybe interactions with drivers). This is the longest I've ever sent you, so it's up to you how it goes. I trust you. Can be anything you want. Fluff or angst or suggestive. Can be one shot or series. Anything. Just a whole lot of thank you for everything you've ever done for me!!! ❤️❤️❤️ Tag me later!! If you have any questions, just ask me!! I'll be happy to help. Thanks!!! :))

Rain, Resolve, and Resilience

word count. 1.2k

Pairing: James Vowles x reader

AN: Thank you so much for your application i really need that.

______________________________________________________________

The Williams paddock was a storm of activity that mirrored the turbulent clouds overhead. Rain battered the track, but it was nothing compared to the emotional storm inside. Franco, one of the team’s youngest drivers, had only recently lost his grandfather, the man who had nurtured his passion for racing from the start. Now, Franco was expected to push through that grief and focus on practice, even as his heart was heavy. The cameras followed his every step, journalists crowding in with pointed questions, ignoring the lines of grief etched into his face. He pulled his cap down low, headphones covering his ears in an attempt to escape, but it was all too much.

Y/n, the beloved wife of team principal James Vowles, saw it all unfold from the edge of the garage. She had spent countless hours at James's side, becoming a quiet pillar for the team in a way only she could. Mechanics and engineers knew they could go to her if the pressure became too much; her presence alone had a grounding, calming effect on everyone. Today, seeing Franco, barely more than a boy, desperately trying to hold himself together as he faced the cameras alone, broke her heart.

She moved toward him gently, slipping past the reporters who still tried to shout questions his way, and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Franco,” she said, her voice calm, almost a whisper. “You don’t have to go through this alone. I’m here.”

Franco’s shoulders relaxed ever so slightly. He managed a grateful smile, his voice barely audible when he replied, “Thank you, Y/n.” He didn’t say more, but she could see the relief in his eyes. Knowing he wasn’t alone in that moment meant everything.

The rain was relentless, and as the team prepared for the practice session, the paddock was tense. Y/n stayed close, keeping an eye on Franco as he prepared to take to the track. She felt protective, wanting to shield him from all the hurt and stress he was carrying. With a deep breath, he climbed into the car, and she watched, fingers crossed, hoping he could find some solace in the race. But as the rain poured harder, the slick track proved unforgiving. Franco’s car spun out on a turn, and he crashed, the impact sending a chill through the paddock. Minutes later, Alex followed, a sickening repeat that left the team reeling.

The Williams garage erupted into controlled chaos. With less than three hours to go before qualifying, both cars were in dire need of repair. Mechanics dashed back and forth, voices rising as they shared updates over radios and called for parts. It felt like an impossible task; fixing one car was a miracle on its own, but two? Every hand was needed, and the tension among the crew was palpable.

In the midst of it all, Y/n was a steady, calm presence, moving through the garage like a breath of fresh air. She approached a young mechanic, shoulders slumped as he stared down at a particularly stubborn part. He rubbed his forehead in frustration, looking close to defeat.

“Take a second,” Y/n said softly, her hand resting gently on his shoulder. “You’re doing amazing. We’ll get there, piece by piece.”

The mechanic glanced at her, finding comfort in her reassuring smile. “Thanks, Y/n,” he murmured, his spirits lifting. She continued to move through the garage, offering words of encouragement to others, giving each team member the strength to push on.

James glanced over at his wife between giving orders, his admiration shining in his eyes. She had a gift, a way of making people feel seen and valued, even when everything felt impossible. He’d often find her in these moments, quietly lifting the spirits of those around her, giving them strength without ever drawing attention to herself. She was the backbone of the team in ways that only he could see.

Back in a quieter corner of the garage, Franco sat alone, hands in his hair as he replayed the crash in his mind. He looked up as Y/n approached, her presence bringing a hint of calm to the chaos within him.

“Do you want to take a little walk?” she asked gently, nodding toward a nearby corridor away from the noise. Franco nodded, grateful for the escape, and they stepped outside into the cooler air.

As they walked, she spoke quietly, her words laced with compassion. “You know, you don’t have to keep this all bottled up. Losing someone you love…it doesn’t go away just because you’re expected to race.” Her tone was soft, non-judgmental, offering him a safe space to express the grief he’d been carrying alone.

Franco took a shaky breath, the weight of the loss settling in his chest. “I just… I wish he was here to see me race,” he admitted, his voice catching. “He taught me everything, and now…” He trailed off, struggling to find the words.

Y/n placed a comforting hand on his back, offering him a moment of silent support. “I think he’d be incredibly proud of you, Franco. You’re out here, giving it everything despite how hard things are. That takes strength,” she said, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze.

When they returned to the paddock, Franco looked a bit lighter. The time away with Y/n had given him a bit of the peace he needed to keep going.

The rain returned with a vengeance on race day, and the paddock was alive with tension once more. Only Franco’s car had been fully repaired, and the knowledge that Alex wouldn’t be able to start weighed heavily on the team. Despite the pressure, Y/n stayed close, her comforting presence a balm to the team’s frayed nerves.

As Franco took to the track again, Y/n stayed by the garage monitors, her hands clasped tightly as she watched him navigate the rain-soaked circuit. But the track was treacherous, and the decision not to put on wet tires soon proved costly. Franco’s car began to slide, the wet track claiming another victim as he fought to regain control. Y/n’s heart sank as she watched him crash once more, the red flags raised as the race was halted.

The team was devastated. The loss of both cars cast a shadow over the weekend, leaving everyone drained and disheartened. In the paddock, frustration was written across every face, the team grappling with the weight of another painful blow. For many, the temptation to give up felt stronger than ever.

But Y/n, ever the steady presence, moved through the crowd, her calm energy pulling everyone back to center. She listened as mechanics vented their frustrations, offering a word of comfort or a quiet hug to those who needed it most. For the younger team members, she was a constant, a familiar warmth that reminded them they weren’t alone in their struggles.

When James finally made his way over, exhaustion etched into every line of his face, he found Y/n beside Franco once more. The young driver looked up at her, his gratitude clear even in his exhaustion. James watched, his admiration for his wife growing with each passing moment. She was the heart of the Williams family, the one who kept them all grounded when the pressures of racing felt too much to bear.

Y/n looked up at James, catching his gaze with a soft smile that seemed to ease his worries. “We’ll get through this,” she said, as much a promise as a reassurance.

[dystopicjumpsuit]

Hiatus announcement.

Hi friends. I've got some stuff I need to focus on in my personal life right now, and I'm not able to balance that with keeping up with Tumblr and Discord. I'll be taking a hiatus starting immediately. I'm not sure when I'll be back, but hopefully it won't be too long. If you have submitted a request for a fic, design, or artwork, please know I'll do my absolute best to fill it when I'm back, but for now, I need to be present in my real life.

I love you all, and I'll miss you, and I can't wait to come back! I'll put a few more details below the cut in case you're interested. CW for medical issues.

My partner has been unwell recently, and this week, we discovered that they have a blood clot in their leg. Further testing revealed they have a serious heart condition. Unfortunately, they also have a preexisting vascular condition that makes blood thinners risky, but their PCP went ahead and prescribed a three-month course of medication for the clot since it's an immediate issue. We are waiting to hear if insurance will cover the meds; apparently this prescription gets rejected by insurers frequently due to the cost. (Thinking about the fact that some analyst in a cubicle could decide that my partner's life is worth less than a three-month course of medication is making me feel absolutely sick.)

They have more appointments scheduled with a cardiologist and a vascular surgeon, so for now, we're just kind of stuck in limbo. Their PCP gave us a long list of, "If x happens, go to the emergency room immediately. If y happens, go to the emergency room immediately. If z happens - you guessed it - go to the emergency room immediately."

At this point, I'm still trying to come to terms with it. My partner just turned 44. We have an active lifestyle; we eat healthfully; we don't drink to excess. We just got fucked over by genetic risk factors.

The scariest part is that we wouldn't have found out about any of this if they hadn't gone to the doctor for a completely unrelated issue. I'm trying not to think about it too hard, or my imagination starts to send me into a spiral.

Please allow me to get sappy for a moment:

If you've read much of my work, you probably know my partner better than you might think, as they inspire a lot of my characterization, either directly or indirectly. If you enjoyed the way I wrote Waxer in "The Sixth Language" or Jesse in "In Which Jesse Gets What He Deserves," then you have a good idea of their personality. They are extraordinarily kind and patient, funny and sweet. They have been here for me consistently for twenty years, first as my friend, and later as my everything. They've held me when I cried, and they've made me laugh every single day since I met them. They know me better than anyone in the world, and I trust them with my soul.

They are the only person IRL who even knows that I write fanfiction, and they have read every single fic I've ever written. They've served as my guinea pig when I needed to work through the physical mechanics of a scene, and they've listened to me ramble for hours on end about plotting and characterization. They've supported and encouraged me in this and so many other areas, and now it's my turn to support them through this.

If you've read this far, I just want to say thank you for all the love, support, encouragement, and kindness you've given me over the past year. This fandom community has truly changed my life, and I am more grateful than words can communicate. I hope to see you all again very soon, hopefully with good news. But in the meantime, please know that I love you all.

May the Force be with you. 🩵

[wondrluv]

꒦꒷ surprise? ; red wine supernova

➪ summary: what better way to celebrate a championship than to kiss your girlfriend on nhl network?

➪ warnings: jules being anxious... i think that's it

➪ word count: 1.98k

➪ emma's notes: surprise!!! didn't think i'd write this so quickly but here we are. i hope you guys enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it because i actually thought of this idea before the game even ended and i'm just in love with it :) i don't know if i'll do a follow up to this (like their instagram posts and such) but i might write (probably will) her brothers reactions tho!

© wondrluv ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here

Jules had been in a constant state of anxiety and panic ever since she was cleared to play on the ice. She didn’t know if she would be able to play at Worlds, not with how she twisted her ankle during the Championship game against Ohio State, but the universe was on her side this time, and she couldn’t be more grateful. 

She’d been working every day on strengthening her ankle, and every day Caroline was by her side, murmuring words of encouragement and squeezing her hand whenever Jules’ eyes teared up with frustration. 

Jules practiced with the team, taking it easy (not that she had a choice with how both her mom and her girlfriend were staring at her with each move she made). The day before they were set to play against Finland in their first game of the tournament, she was cleared to play if she was able to behave. 

And now here they were, 11 days later, undefeated in the IIHF Women’s World Championships. It was surreal to Jules because less than a month ago, she was sitting in Minneapolis, gearing up to play in the Frozen Four. 

Nothing had changed since that day; in fact, she was sure it looked eerily similar to how that day looked. Fumbling with her earrings as her hands shook with nerves, her girlfriend off to the side in front of the mirror, pulling her hair into a loose ponytail and fixing her shirt she was wearing. 

“KK?” Her voice was soft, almost hesitant, as if breaking the silence would only hurt them in the long run. 

Caroline looked over, eyebrows slightly furrowed, arms still in the middle of tying her hair up, which only distracted Jules from what she was going to say, eyes locked on the way her arms moved. 

“Jules?” She laughed softly, her lips turning into a smirk as she followed her gaze to her arms. “Alright, what’s going on in that pretty head of yours, hm?” 

Jules felt the bed dip beside her, snapping out of her trance to see the other girl beside her, knee pressed into the bed, and her hand ghosting over her back. She looked up at KK, a small smile tugging at her lips as she reached up to tug at a strand of hair she had neglected when doing her hair. 

“Just nerves.”

KK’s arms slipped around her shoulders as she positioned herself behind Jules, pulling her into her so her back was flush with her chest, “Nerves, huh? Over what? If I recall, we’re still undefeated since I asked you out, yeah?”

Her cheeks heated at the memory and at the kiss she placed on her temple, “Yeah, I know. I just-” She took a deep breath, fiddling with her earring before finally putting it in. “I think I’m destined to live in a constant state of panic, and somehow people think I’m calm.”

“You are calm.”

“Really?”

“You say you're nervous, but your face is completely neutral. Your hands shake, sure, but as soon as you step into that locker room, they’re still. And if I didn’t know you as much as I do, I would think you’re the epitome of calm. “

“I’m not sure if that makes me more nervous or not.” Her laugh held nerves in it, too, like she was trying to shake away all of the negative feelings.

“Baby, you are gonna be great, the best player out on that ice tonight.”

“You’re biased.”

“Okay fine. I’m gonna be the best player-” Jules just shoved her backward, KK’s back colliding with the mattress, scoffing.

Jules turned, crawling to her, and situating herself on her side. Her head rested comfortably on her shoulder as they lay together, their fingers intertwined as she pressed a kiss to Caroline’s jaw. KK’s focus was entirely on their fingers, playing with that thumb ring that she loved way too much, her own nerves dissipating in a matter of seconds. 

“Undefeated as girlfriends, Frozen Four champions as girlfriends, World Champions as girlfriends. We’re gonna have a lot of hardware.”

“You’re so full of yourself.”

“I’m sure of myself, big difference.”

Jules looked up at her, eyes soft and full of awe, “You wanna know something?”

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

KK’s eyes widened, looking down at her, “You what?”

“I love you. I know, it’s only been a month, but I-” She was cut off by KK’s lips on hers, eyes closing as she melted into the kiss. 

“I love you, too. It doesn’t matter if we’ve been dating for a month, I’ve been in love with you since we met.”

“You’re gonna make me cry, you know that?”

“Well, we can’t have that, can we?” Caroline grinned, leaning in to press another kiss to her lips. 

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

Back-to-back goals. 2-0.

Back-to-back goals. 2-2. 

Jules hated this, hated every second of them pushing so hard and gaining a lead just to be thrown back into the same situation before. Her knee bounced, her mouth chewed on her glove, which she was sure people were commenting on her and Jack did it similarly. 

She was glued to KK’s side on the bench, even making her teammates move in the locker room so she could play with her hands during intermissions. They still hadn’t told anyone yet, well, unless you count Lacey, and Kirsten, and Ava, and Casey. She hadn’t even told her mom. 

It was irrational, she knew that. She knew her parents and brothers wouldn’t love her any less if she just came out and told them she was dating her best friend, but that didn’t stop the thoughts from forming. Though the thoughts also didn’t stop the less-than-discrete lingering touches when one of them scored a goal, the whispered words they exchanged as they sat next to each other on the bus, the giddy expressions they wore whenever the two of them locked eyes. If they didn’t outright say it, their actions did. 

And Ellen knew. Ellen knew from the moment she saw her daughter after their Ohio State win that she was dating Caroline Harvey. There was no mistaking the glow that emanated from her despite just spraining her ankle weeks before playing in the Women’s World Championship, no mistaking the way she had a permanent smile on her face even when nothing was happening. 

If she wasn’t sure before, she was definitely sure now as she watched them in overtime knock heads or high-five each other or place a hand on the other’s thigh between long shifts and short breaks. Every time the two dragged themselves off the ice, they found their way to each other, sinking onto the bench, tired and stiff, which would change as soon as the two bumped heads or brushed hands. 

Jules took a deep breath, eyes steadying as she moved across the ice, never catching a break in the extra period of the game. She was not built for overtime. Whoever suggested that she be out there for this in such a crucial part of the outcome of the game she was going to have words with them. 

She watched as Canada took it over, watched as Taylor moved towards the blue line and made her way to the net, gaze locked on the puck. And when it ended up in front of her? She just poked at it until it crossed the line, arms flying up in victory as she skated towards the boards, throwing her stick up and over into the crowd. 

Caroline chased after her, arms wrapping around her waist as soon as they collided, head falling against hers, “That’s my girl.”

Jules wasn’t aware of anything that was happening besides being crowded by 24 other people and the overwhelming feeling of love that consumed her as she stared at her girlfriend. She hugged everyone, starting with Hilary and ending with Megan. 

When the crowd dispersed enough, she found KK again, eyes meeting each other as she skated over to her, hugging her again. 

“I’m so fucking proud of you.” Her words were muffled as she buried her head in Jules’ shoulder, grip tight on her jersey. 

“I’m proud of you-”

“No, no. This is yours, Lettie. I don’t care how proud of me and the team you are, this is yours.”

Tears welled in her eyes, staring up at her girlfriend, her first instinct was to shake her head, but the look on her face didn’t let her. So she just smiled, squeezing her hands as they rested between them. 

“Can I kiss you?”

“What?”

“Can I kiss you?”

“KK, I don’t think we should-”

And to Caroline, she wasn’t saying no, leaning in to crash her lips against hers. They heard whoops around them, but they both blocked them out, KK’s hands resting on Jules’ hips and Jules’ hands cupping KK’s cheeks. 

Jules’ face was flushed as they parted, panting just loudly enough for KK to hear. Her hair was messy from being in the helmet and from running her hands over it constantly. She could still feel the sweat dripping down her back and forehead. But to KK, Juliette Hughes had never looked more gorgeous. 

“Holy fuck, I love you.” Her words elicited a giggle from Jules, rolling her eyes playfully and shoving her away. 

Jules barely had time to process before the team dragged Caroline away, leaving Jules with a reporter who had a knowing look on her face. She composed herself, skating closer so she could hear her as she talked, a dopey grin on her lips.

“So, Juliette. What was going through your mind on that turnover?”

“Uhh, nothing if I’m honest-” She laughed softly, still trying to reel in her emotions. “No, um- in a play like that, all you can think about is the puck going in the net and that it’s worth a try. A small part of you always hopes it’s going to go in, but you’re also prepared for it not to go in, and what your next step will be.”

The reporter nodded, still smiling, “How are you feeling right now? What emotions are you experiencing?”

“Still shocked, I mean, four weeks ago I was competing for a Frozen Four Championship, and now I’m playing with professional players against other professional players that I’ve looked up to. I’m really happy to be able to do this with my friends and these players; it’s a surreal moment that I’m so grateful for.”

“And how about the support? Being surrounded by your teammates, your mom is here, your brother is in the midst of getting ready for a playoff game.”

“Yeah, I mean, um- having my mom here is great, she’s been my biggest supporter since I learned how to skate. For Luke, yeah, it’s tough not having my brothers here. I know they want to be, I know I want to be back in Jersey for him, but it’s how it is. I know he’s gonna do great, he always has, and I can’t wait to see what the playoffs bring out for him. As for my teammates-”

Jules’ eyes subconsciously shifted towards where Caroline stood, surrounded by Lacey and Kirsten, a smile on her face that caused her lips to turn up, “They’re great. We always have each other’s backs, leaning into each other for advice, great support system.”

“Speaking of teammates…”

Jules grinned even more, because for the first time, she didn’t care that the reporters were digging into her personal life, for the first time, she wanted the world to know that Caroline Harvey was hers and she was Caroline Harvey’s. 

“Yeah, I um- wasn’t expecting that. But-” She froze when an arm slung around her shoulders, looking up to see KK there, beaming with pride. 

“Surprise?” Jules smiled awkwardly, her eyes wide with amusement as KK pulled her closer, kissing her temple. 

꒰ RED WINE SUPERNOVA TAGLIST ꒱

@hughesmedicine @jjgsunflower @kaydesssssssss @alwaysclassyeagle @fantillisgirl

RED WINE SUPERNOVA MASTERLIST ; AU'S

TAGLIST; NAVIGATION

[crusty-chronicles]

May I please request headcanons for Yusuke, Kurama, Hiei, and Jin walking in on their introverted, quiet female S/O singing and dancing to one of her favorite songs?

Yu Yu Hakusho Men Reacting To Their S/O Singing

Yusuke 💥

Out of all the men here, he's the one most likely to tease you for it.

He doesn't do it with any ill intent, he just thinks it's cute to see you so in your element.

Relaxed and out of your shell.

Singing to who knows what while swaying your body to the beat.

It has a boyish grin breaking out across his face.

Before he knows it, he's calling out to you.

“I didn't know I was dating a little rockstar.”

You jump and the sound of his voice. Scrambling to turn around and seeing his grin widden at your embarrassment.

“How long were you standing there!?!” You questioned.

“Long enough to know you've got a pretty voice.”

You could feel your face burn at his words. His playful expression not helping calm your nerves.

You tried to walk past him, not wanting to be humiliated any further. And when he gently grabbed your wrist, you went to swat at him.

“Hey don't be mean!” he whined.

“I'm not being mean! Do you know how embarrassing it is to have someone walk in on you?”

His eyes softened at your words. Cupping your face and guiding your eyes to his.

“Why don't you keep singing, and I'll dance with you.” His other hand rested on your waist, pulling you a little closer.

“C'mon, let me hear more of you,” he urged.

“Not happening.” You tried to stand strong

But when he placed his forehead on yours and softly said-

“Not even if I say pretty please?”

You knew you were a goner.

------------------------

Kurama 🦊

He's very sweet about it.

He'd heard you from the moment he entered your shared home.

Listening as the softness from your voice carried through the air.

He allows himself a moment to just bask in your voice before alerting you to his presence.

Making sure his footsteps were loud enough for you to hear when he reached you.

Little by little your voice had died down.

You looked everywhere but him when he greeted you.

Trying to appear like you hadn't been doing anything before he arrived.

But you had a feeling he'd heard you. A knowing look he could never quite hide from you.

Then there was the fact that the next day there was an album left on your bed. The same one the song you'd been singing the day prior was featured on.

You've had your suspicions for a while. Mentally psyching yourself up to ask him.

No doubt you'd be flustered beyond belief if he said yes, but a part of you still wanted to know.

“Have you ever heard me singing before?” You asked during dinner one night.

His response came immediately.

“Not once.”

You could tell it was more to save you from embarrassment than outright denying it. A part of you extremely grateful for his thoughtfulness.

Even if he was telling the truth, you knew he'd never like fun at you for singing.

He'd most likely do whatever he could to make you feel more comfortable.

“Would you like to?” You offered.

------------------------

Hiei ⚔️

You wouldn't even know he'd walked in on you.

Oblivious to the way he stood right beside the door frame observing you.

Hearing the sweet notes of your voice while you swayed. Your eyes closed in content.

He was gone by the time you opened them. You were none the wiser that your partner had returned.

Hiei figured he'd come back later.

When you were less occupied.

He didn't want to risk you getting flustered, knowing you wouldn't be able to look him in the eye for weeks. He was stunted when it came to reassuring you. Not really knowing what to say to calm you down.

He'd rather avoid that situation entirely.

Giving you your privacy pays off for him.

You become more comfortable with the relationship.

Every now and then letting a small tune slip while in his presence. Unaware you were even doing so.

He won't point it out or address it.

But he'll always notice it

Singing your human songs that you manage to put a nice spin on

And in rare instances, he'll hear you humming softly to him while his head is in your lap.

On the cusp of falling asleep while your voice lulls him.

It's something you do intentionally. Thinking he can't hear you in this state.

He can.

---------------------------

Jin 🌪️

It's actually extremely rare he's able to catch you off guard.

Jin’s a loud demon by nature. Usually announcing his presence when he visits you.

If you were singing before he came in, you're deathly silent when he approaches you.

Your face always flushed with embarrassment while he beams at you.

Picking you up and swinging you around before giving you a kiss

But there are times when he'll get home before you. Choosing to lounge about in your room until you get back.

It doesn't take long for him to fall asleep.

So imagine his shock at waking up to your voice.

It's muffled and quiet from beyond the door, but the melody is still there.

His ears twitching at the sound until he fully processes what's happening.

You're singing.

He doesn't think he's ever heard such a sweet sound before.

It has him practically gliding towards you. Surprising you when he hugged you from behind.

Hiding his face in your neck while he spoke.

“I didn't realize I snatched me an enchantress. You've been holding out on me.”

You gave a squeal, trying your best to cover your face out of sheer embarrassment.

“I didn't know you were here. I'll just…be quiet now.” You mumbled out.

“C’mon. Dontcha be shy now.” He pleaded, uncovering your face from your hands and cooing at your flustered state.

“How about I start ya off?” He offered before mimicking the tune you were singing previously.

Except it was horribly off key, causing you to start laughing.

It was the final push you needed before giving in.

“Okay, okay. You're a goof, you know?”

“But I'm yours all the same.”

[callsign-venus]

I'll Be Home for Christmas | Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader

Description: With Bradley on deployment, you don't find the Christmas season as cheery as usual. The Daggers make it their mission to help you get into the holiday spirit. Cue intensely competitive gingerbread house decorating competition.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Fluff with a teeny dash of angst. Drinking. That’s pretty much it. Really just self-indulgent, friendship-heavy fluff with lots of pining. Enjoy x

Nat King Cole’s voice dances out of your record player has you put the finishing touches on your cranberry Aperol spritzes. Their cherry warm color makes you smile despite yourself. 

You have always loved Christmas, but this year it hits you like a truck – and not even one with a tree strapped on top. All the little traditions that usually warm your heart with holiday cheer feel just plain sad to do alone. You had a tremendous battle with your artificial tree, which fell on you twice. You were proud of yourself for not crying, and in the end you were able to admire all of its eight feet of glory. Then you remembered you had to light the whole thing. Two hours later, you had undone no less than three tangles of light strands, found out two of them were dead (and all your untangling had been for nothing), and had one big cry fest for yourself. Not even a steaming cup of cocoa made you feel better after that disaster.

Wrapping presents for your friends and family, rewatching all your favorite Christmas movies, and driving around rich people neighborhoods to admire their lights hadn’t gone as poorly, but they all made his absence grow harder to ignore.

When Bradley told you his deployment would last through the holidays, you struggled to keep your disappointment to yourself, though you’re sure he could see it shining in your eyes. As much as you would miss him during the holidays, you knew it was worse for him, with only emails and skype calls for comfort – no silly little Christmas rituals to occupy his mind.

“You need help in here?” Natasha’s voice jolts you out of your pity-party spiral.

“No, I just got distracted,” you say, scooping up two of the spritzes and offering her one. “Let’s get this party started.”

Phoenix smiles and accepts your cocktail. She herself had just gotten back from her own deployment, and pretty immediately sensed your holiday ennui. She was the one who suggested this festive evening, and you’ve never been more grateful for her friendship.

While you were listless in the kitchen, she had assembled the most perfect gingerbread house making station you’d ever seen: frosting packed into several near-bursting bags, candy canes arranged in perfect rows, gumdrops with a shimmering dusting of sugar, and a scattering of gingerbread roofs and walls waiting patiently to be dressed.

“Wow, Nat, this looks great.”

“Thank you. I’m sure the boys will mess it up in three seconds flat, but at least you appreciate it.”

As if on cue, your front door bursts open, and a clot of merrily dressed sailors spills into your home, arms stacked with presents for Secret Santa. You point to the open space under the Christmas tree, and quickly your and Natasha’s presents are joined by all the others.

After the presents are unloaded, you and Phoenix are engulfed in hugs. Fanboy is wearing a Santa hat, and he has two in hand that he passes to you and Phoenix, insisting that you put them on right now. You happily oblige, as you’re inching closer to how you usually feel during the holidays now that you’re surrounded by friends. Even Jake is cheery, having rocked up in an ugly Christmas sweater covered with bows and tinsel, which is bizarre yet comforting. You do your best not to think about the person you wish was here most, as the Daggers seem dead set to help you have a great Christmas despite his absence.

“This is for you, our gracious host.” Bob hands you a potted poinsettia. “Thanks for putting up with us.”

“It’s really no problem,” you insist as you place the flowers on the side table by your couch. “I love you all.”

He runs a hand through his hair. “Still, we’re a lot, I know.”

He’s not wrong – Coyote and Payback have already found the spritzes and Fanboy’s popped three gumdrops into his mouth – but you don’t mind. Even when the gingerbread house decorating competition starts. Calling it a competition might be an understatement. The Daggers are more than competitive, especially about inconsequential things. Nobody speaks as they draft their houses in bright white icing and stud them with decorative candies. The only way to get them to quiet is through arts and crafts, you muse as you decorate your house with swirls of icing like snow drifts and tiny snowflakes dotting the roof and walls. 

The sabotage begins early, when Hangman reaches for a bowl of peppermints and not-so-subtly brushes his hand over Phoenix's roof, smearing the frosting.

“Hey asshole,” Natasha says. “That’s my house.”

“Oh really? Looks like you got a little smear there.” Jake slides a finger across Phoenix’s carefully piped shingles, messing up her roof even more.

“You’re a dead man, Seresin.” Nat narrows her eyes. She won’t go for Jake’s gingerbread house, she’ll bide her time. You’re glad you’re not Hangman right now.

“Got anymore spritzes?” Coyote asks you.

You nod your head. “In the kitchen, help yourself.”

When Coyote gets up to refill his glass, Fanboy snatches his piping bag and swaps it for his almost empty one. While Fanboy’s distracted, Payback helps himself to the pile of Twizzlers Fanboy’s been hoarding since the beginning of the competition.

“Who is even going to judge these?” You ask almost absentmindedly as you stand a gingerbread couple together at the door of their house with copious amounts of frosting. “We all know whose house is whose.”

There’s a smattering of laughter.

“We’ll figure it out after Secret Santa,” Nat assures you as she completes the retiling of her roof, the eaves perfectly punctuated with peppermints.

Before you can question the logic of that solution, Bob asks for your opinion on colored versus strictly green and red gum drops.

“Hey, no helping the competition,” Fanboy complains.

“What?” You level a heavy gaze on him. “Scared you won’t win if Bob and I combine forces? I would be.”

“I’m just saying, this should be a fair contest,” he says.

You shrug him off and answer Bob, but in the spirit of sabotage, you neglect to tell him about the frosting dried on his cheek.

Even though you’re risking your gingerbread house’s safety, once you’ve finished, you slip into the hall. You refresh your inbox on your phone, and you smile as you see an email from Bradley.

Subject: Miss you

Hey pretty girl. Been missing you all day today. Wish I was there to hang stockings and give you the best mistletoe kiss the world’s ever seen. Don’t forget to hang it – you can leave it up until I get back. Don’t have a lot of time, but I just wanted to let you know that I love you and I can’t wait to come home to you.

Your heart flutters, as it always does when you get an email from him. You quickly type out a response.

Subject: Miss you more

Hey hot stuff. I’ve already hung the mistletoe and have no plans to take it down until you make me see stars under it. I miss doing holiday things with you (you really know how to wrangle the tree), but Nat especially has been helping me through it. Still, I really miss you. All I need is your arms around me and everything will feel right again. Can’t wait to see you again.

You press send and sigh. You never want to complain – it’s Bradley who had to live on an aircraft carrier for months at a time – but sometimes it feels so unfair for two people to be so in love and yet spend the holidays all alone.

You give yourself a moment to collect yourself before you go back to the increasingly hostile competition. Jake has icing in his hair – you know Phoenix is responsible, but her wrath won’t end there – and Payback’s house had a giant fist-sized crater in the roof. Surely unrelated, Coyote’s knuckles are dusted with gingerbread crumbs. You couldn’t help the smile the chaotic scene pulled from you. Especially since your gingerbread house remains in pristine condition.

You thank Nat for watching over it, and she responds with a bright smile. “No problem, I can’t have the boys messing up your Christmas celebration.”

“Hey!” All the boys except Bob protest in unison. Phoenix raises her brows, point proven.

Once all of the gingerbread houses are complete and aligned in a row like a candied neighborhood block, the party shifts toward the Christmas tree. Bob distributes presents to each of you. Yours is an envelope, and you know it is from Nat. Your name is written on the thick, cream paper in Nat’s graceful script, which you know like your own after years of friendship.

“No one can beat my present,” Nat boasts as she catches you studying the envelope.

“Oh we’ll see,” Coyote says.

You swallow down a little lump, seeing everyone around the tree without Rooster. Though you love and appreciate your friends, the emptiness of his presence is almost smothering.

Your mood warms when Jake volunteers to go first. You’re his Secret Santa, and just as you predicted, he loves the smartphone-controlled paper airplane you got for him. He opens it and has it folded  in a matter of seconds. He syncs it to his phone, and his first flight ends with the plane crashing into Coyote’s head.

“Durable.” Hangman remarks as he picks up the paper airplane, which holds its shape just fine.

“Asshole.” Coyote replies.

Payback is next, and he gets a bottle of scotch from Jake. You don’t know much about scotch, but from Payback’s reaction, you can tell it’s a really nice bottle.

Coyote gets Bob a navy Aran sweater, which Bob wastes no time throwing on.

“Feel how soft!” Bob says as he smothers Coyote in a hug. Cue three minutes of Bob inviting everyone to touch his sweater – you can’t blame him, though, it is really soft.

Bob’s gift to Coyote makes you wonder how Nat is going to top it. Bob made a crochet version of Taffy, Coyote’s miniature pinscher. 

“Thank you, I love it.” Coyote cradles the crocheted dog tight, and you wonder if you’re just imagining the tremble in his voice or if he’s actually about to cry.

“Come on Javy,” Jake says, “don’t go all soft now.”

Fanboy gets a countertop pizza oven from Payback, which instantly becomes one of his most prized possessions based on the sheer amount of pizza he consumes.

“Thanks, man.” He gives Payback a friendly punch on the arm. “You all have to come over for pizza night.”

You all hum in agreement. Fanboy’s pizzas are amazing, and you wouldn’t mind spending another night with everyone together. Well, almost everyone. You swallow down the lump in your throat.

Phoenix opens her gift from Fanboy slowly, as if she’s afraid of its contents. She peels back the shiny green paper to reveal a charcuterie board and a set of cheese knives with wooden handles that match the board. She hugs it close to her chest and mouths thank you across the room to Fanboy, who doesn’t notice because he’s reading the pizza recipe included with his oven.

Finally it is your turn. All eyes in the room land on you, strangely sober despite the freely flowing spritzes. You give Phoenix a quick glance as you slide a finger under the flap of the envelope, but her expression is unreadable.

“It's a…” you say as your fingers graze a satiny band of fabric. “Blindfold?”

You hold it up for everyone to see. Everyone’s expressions are carefully arranged to not convey anything. Not quite the laughter you were expecting. A sense of uneasiness blooms in your stomach.

Nat stands up and takes the blindfold out of your hands. Quicker than you can think, she’s tying it around your head.

“What is going on?” You ask.

She finishes the bow and pats your shoulder. “Just you wait.”

A few suppressed snickers fill the room and make your uneasiness melt into dread. The gentle shush of a door opening and closing makes it worse.

“I swear, if you guys are ‘How the Grinch Stole Christmas-ing’ me right now I will be so angry.”

The silence that falls after you speak is so, so loud. No one turned the record, so even Nat King Cole is quiet. But then you hear it. It’s hard to explain, but you’d know that breathing anywhere. You’d spent many nights falling asleep to that gentle lullaby or hearing it as he held you close in the kitchen, neither of you caring that dinner was burning on the stove.

You rip off the blindfold, and there he is. Bradley. Bradley. Standing next to your Christmas tree, a bow tied around his chest. The Daggers surround him like magician’s assistants, all their hands raised in a sort of ta-da manner.

You leap off the couch and into his waiting arms. He smells like an aircraft carrier and shitty coffee, his clothes rough and government-issued, and his hair cropped a little too close to his head than you know he likes – but he’s yours. He’s yours in the way his embrace consumes you, blurring the line between you and him, erasing the months and miles of distance between the two of you. He’s yours in the way the beat of his heart drums in rhythm with your own. Yours in the way that you are his as well. He lifts you up so your feet dance in the air, pressing kisses to the top of your head.

He sets you down and crashes his lips into yours. He slips his tongue into your mouth unabashedly, and despite your audience, you let him. The kiss is long enough that you start to feel bad for everyone else, so you sheepishly pull away.

“Goddamn, Rooster,” Hangman says, “let the girl breathe.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He waves the comment away.

But you don’t want to breathe. Not if your other option is to kiss Bradley until you’re both oxygen starved. Because you’re starved for him, need to feed on his presence. 

Then the realization sets in. Rooster is supposed to be deployed for another month. You wheel around to face Nat. “How the hell did you do this?”

She shrugs. “Loverboy emailed me last week, just after I got home from my deployment. Said he was coming home earlier than expected, and he wanted to surprise you.”

“Wait, so all of you knew?” You pointedly look at everyone, but nobody can quite keep eye contact with you.

Bradley wraps an arm around your waist. “They all did pretty good keeping it under wraps, huh?”

“I would hope so, given our clearance levels,” Jake says.

Everyone laughs, but you’re still reeling. You can’t believe Bradley is here. His calloused fingers rubbing the skin of your back, just under the hem of your shirt. His gentle laugh reverberating against your body, reminding you what wholeness feels like. His lips, slightly chapped (with none of your chapstick to steal on the carrier), murmuring into your hair. You can’t hear what he’s saying, but you know what he means nonetheless.

You’d imagined Bradley’s homecoming as a flurry of ripped clothes, bruising kisses, and mutual insatiable hunger, but this is better. All of your friends in the same room, sharing in this festive homecoming, looking like absolute dorks. Fanboy’s Santa hat sits askew on his head. Payback and Coyote are obviously drunk off their asses (they definitely pregamed the festivities, as Payback has been reduced to giggles and Coyote has actual tears streaming down his face). Jake has yet to realize the frosting in his hair, Bob the frosting on his face. And Natasha is a dork by association. You and Bradley too. But the overwhelming love in the room makes you want to sob happy tears.

Bradley happily indulges you all in judging the gingerbread houses. He gets down to eye level with each entry, runs his fingers along the roofs, occasionally snaps off a piece of candy and pops it in his mouth.

“Very good job, everyone.” He speaks to the group as if you’re all kindergartners, reveling in the building anticipation. There’s never a prize for Dagger competitions, but there doesn’t need to be. Bragging rights is all they need, no matter how menial the situation.

Bradley carefully reshuffles the houses in order from last to first place. Fanbody. Jake. Payback. Coyote. Nat. He purposefully shields first and second place. Only you and Bob are left – maybe the least competitive people in the room – and still, tension is thick in the air.

“And the winner…” Bradley’s voice booms like an old-fashioned gameshow host, “...is…”

He finally slides to the side to reveal your house sitting in first place.

Bob sticks his hand up for a high five. Your hands collide with a solid thunk.

 “Not fair,” Fanboy protests. “Rooster’s obviously biased.”

“Come on, he didn’t know whose house was whose,” Phoenix says. “Besides, you weren’t even in the top five, and Payback had a hole in his roof.”

“It’s ok, Nat,” you voice oozes with fake sympathy. “I’d be upset too if I spent so much time on a shit gingerbread house.”

Fanboy’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh you want to play that game?”

He lunges around the table, and you immediately grab Bradley to use as a human shield. 

“Lots of talk from someone who’s gonna hide behind her boyfriend,” he says teasingly.

“I’m not hiding.” You tighten your grip on Bradley’s waist, his hands covering yours. “You can get to me, you’re just gonna have to get through him first.”

Bradley puffs out his chest. “Nobody disparages the gingerbread contest queen. She earned her title by being the best.”

Later, because he can’t keep a secret from you (the only thing that saved the Secret Santa surprise was only being able to communicate through email), Bradley confesses that he knew which house was yours the moment he saw it. But still, that one little detail doesn’t negate the fact that you are the gingerbread contest queen.

And Bradley defends your honor well as you maneuver him from behind to keep a distance between yourself and Fanboy. Eventually, Bob steps in to broker a peace deal to end the conflict. Somehow, you are roped in for bringing more spritzes to Fanboy’s pizza night, but he can no longer dispute the fact that you have the best gingerbread house. A win is a win, and your gloating privileges remain.

Later, when everyone is winding down and glancing at their coats hanging by the door, Bradley pulls you into the kitchen.

“Honey, I think our guests are about to leave.” You try to move back toward the living room, but Bradley keeps hold of your hand. “Please, let’s not be rude.”

He shakes his head. “They’ll understand. They know. They know exactly what it's like.”

You relent because he’s right. Even you don’t know what it’s like. Loneliness has been a long lingering companion of yours, but you suffer her presence at home surrounded by close comforts and your parents a short drive away. For Bradley, for Nat, for Jake, for Bob and all the rest, it’s different. It’s their job. They suffer loneliness with mostly long shifts and shitty food for company. 

So you let Bradley chase out his – and your – loneliness in the kitchen. As he pulls you ever closer, his palms flattening you against him, you wonder how you ever survived apart when it was so clear that your souls were really just one.

You break away panting. God knows how long you were indulging, but you just about jump out of your skin when you realize Phoenix is in the kitchen right behind you, pouring herself a glass of champagne.

Your cheeks warm. “Nat!”

“Sorry, didn’t bother me, so I didn’t want to bother you.” She shrugs. “Want a glass?”

You decline, and you and Bradley shuffle out of the kitchen like teenagers caught in the act. Nearly everyone is shrugging their coats on, chatting about the night, when they catch sight of the two of you.

“Now, just where in the hell did y’all run off to?” Jake prods.

You can’t even look at them.

“Just the kitchen,” Rooster says, locking his hand in yours. “Needed to make sure the champagne was still flowing.”

Everyone shares the same knowing look that makes you want to shove them all out the door. Instead, you and Bradley post up at the door like perfect hosts and thank everyone for coming as they slip into the surprisingly chilly night. Then, only you, Bradley, and Phoenix are left.

While everyone was saying their goodbyes, she was sipping her champagne and quietly wiping sugar, gingerbread crumbs, and crusted frosting off the dining table.

“You bitch,” you say as you swoop in to help her clean up. “How come you didn’t tell me as soon as you found out?”

She laughs and takes another sip of wine. “Why don’t you ask Rooster?”

You raise your eyebrows at him. He sheepishly grins.

“In my defense,” he says, “it was a really good surprise.”

“I can’t believe you two.” You laugh. “But thank you for the surprise. It was wonderful.”

You try to direct your gratitude to them both, but something in Rooster’s expression snags your gaze and won’t let go. There’s still an unsatiated hunger heavy in his eyes.

Nat sets down her now empty glass. “Alright, lovebirds, I’ll take that as my cue to leave.”

She gathers her things, and you walk her to the door.

“Thank you.” You give her a hug. Neither of you are super touchy, but your gratitude for her tonight is almost endless. “Thank you for everything.”

“Don’t mention it.” She squeezes you tight before letting go. “Goodnight, Rooster!”

“Goodnight!” He calls from somewhere deep in the house.

“Sounds like he’s waiting for you,” she winks. “See you soon.”

“Get home safe!”

And with that, it’s just the two of you. You expect Bradley to pounce the second the door closes, but he doesn’t appear as you linger by the doorway. Odd. You check the kitchen, living room, and dining room. All empty.

“Bradley?” You call.

“Right here.”

His response floats from down the hallway, from your bedroom.

And sure enough, there he stands in the doorway. Right under the mistletoe you hung up earlier in the week, the biggest grin on your face when you pictured his homecoming some time after New Years, all the Christmas decorations gone except the lonely mistletoe, waiting patiently for his arrival. But now, you can put the mistletoe to good use while Christmas is still bright on the horizon. The warmth of the season bleeds into the warmth of your kiss. Christmas will come as surely as it would have if Bradley was on deployment, but now you welcome it. You want lazy days sipping eggnog and baking cookies. You want late, festive nights at the Hard Deck with the Daggers, getting into pool competitions with Bradley as your loyal teammate despite how disastrous you are at pool, assured in his easy we-lose-together attitude. You want a Christmas morning with presents that don’t matter because the best gift you could ask for has already appeared right by your tree tonight, wrapped in a bow.

“Don’t leave me ever again,” you whisper against his chest.

“I won’t,” he says, “I won’t.”

You both know it’s not something you can ask of him, not a promise he can keep. It’s not fair to either of you to pretend like this will be his last homecoming, the last time you both are starved of each other for months. But right now, it feels good to pretend.

You can’t think long about his future deployments, however. Your worries melt away as Bradley makes good on his promise to give you the best mistletoe kiss the world’s ever seen.

[the-peak-tmnt]

I know you probably weren’t intending this when writing Reciprocity, maybe focusing more on entertainment and the different relationships within the brothers themselves, the family, and friends; but I just wanted to let you know that your fic has been helping me so much.

I’ve always had a hard time opening up to people about my problems, worries, doubts, stuff like that. I’m currently going to a psychologist, and it was thanks to your fic that I was able to talk to her fully about things that worry me. And not only to her, but to family and friends, people I was afraid to bother with my problems; but I noticed that they really do care for me and only want what’s best for me.

Your fic has literally changed my life for the better big time, seeing one of my favorite characters going trough a hard time, but learning that there are people that care about him and want to help him, really put things into perspective to me.

So really, deeply, from the bottom of my heart: thank you for writing this. It has helped me so much and it’s great to read and I feel a lot relation, being so afraid of the consequences, but learning slowly that there are people along the way that genuinely love me and want to help me has bettered me.

Thank you!

I am SO SORRY this took me so long to respond to! I wish this was a joke, but a guest died at work the other day. Which of course I'm sad about and I feel terrible for the family, but I am the entire marketing department for our company, so I've been buried in dealing with the news & social media for this. Then we had a big even planned this weekend that we...didn't cancel??? Even though someone literally died????? Anyway now I'm just venting! The point is I'm really sorry this took forever to get to!

Okay, on to the actual ask...

I feel like no matter how hard I try, there's no way for me to adequately express how this message makes feel. It's hard to even wrap my head around the idea that I've had a tangible effect on someone else's life...let alone with a fanfic about sad ninja turtles.

You're right that I didn't consciously set out to get this serious or deep with the fic. I'll totally admit that I started writing it with nothing but a couple plot points vaguely mapped out in my head that I wanted to get to (many I still haven't after a year and a half...)

But when I really started delving into Raph's character to flesh him out, I realized there was so much more I wanted to do than just the fun "where is Leo and why is only Raph sure he's alive?" mystery plot.

And some of those things were that I wanted tough-guy Raph to learn to be vulnerable, to come to understand that there are people who genuinely care about him, and to let himself not only accept their help, but to actually ask for it.

I feel silly using the word "cherish", but I do genuinely cherish every single kudos, comment, fan art, playlist, tumblr ask, even tweets people think I don't see when I'm actually just pretending to be cool by not comment on them so you don't know I'm over here kicking my feet in delight...

I find my job to be really rewarding. I love helping people make memories and have a good time. A lady literally hugged me at this event today to say thanks because she and her family were having so much fun. But I've never done anything as rewarding as write this fic, and not just because of all those different kinds of engagement I mentioned above that I cherish so much. This fic is the most rewarding thing I've ever done because of you and everyone else who has gotten anything more than just entertainment value out of it.

I'm so grateful to hear that Raph's journey so far has resonated with you in such a profound way, and I'm genuinely so happy that it's helped give you a new perspective. I know I say "my silly fic about sad turtles" a lot, but to know that for some people it's actually more than that...that seriously means more to me than I know how to even say.

Thank you so much for this ask. The past few months have been pretty rough, and what happened at work the other day definitely didn't help! I appreciate this so, so much. THANK YOU!

[sonics-atelier]

Appreciation Post <33

Happy New Year fellow unhinged people, the past year has been one hell of a Rollercoaster and I'm glad I got to share it with everyone I love. I've made so many amazing friends and I'd like to tell them how appreciated, loved and cherished there are, hence this post. Wishing everyone so much happiness and success in this year and I hope your days go by filled with peace and joy, I love all of you very much 💗. ( Apologies for being late )

@shadowqueenjude - My Wife, My Love, You are charismatic, powerful, stubborn ( ily for that btw ), passionate and so damn hard working. I am the luckiest person on earth to have you as my confidant ( still dont know that i did to deserve you ). I remember last year when I randomly dmed you to vent about the fandom and you understood me so well, and how I stayed up till 4 am just to talk to you and how I had been searching all my life for someone like you and we found each other like it was always meant to be. The rest is history. We've been through sm together and never once has my love for wavered. You're just that amazing. I am yours, for now and ever. Keep being amazing 💕

@decadentpostnacho - Meri Jaan, You walked into my life and you were like the missing puzzle piece that instantly fit into my life and heart ( destiny fr ) You are the fuzzy green blanket I can wrap myself in when things get too much ( you're entire presence is calming ✨️ ). You're one of the most kindhearted and beautiful people I've ever known. We were put on this earth to find our ways back to each other ( long live the teatectives ). I love you more than words can ever express 💖

@mintedwitcher - I LOVE YOU. you are so fucking brave and amazing and I've come to cherish everything about you, I'm so grateful that cherik brought us together. Our late night conversations about our Headcanons and wips and your ability to make me sob have been the highlight of my year, ty for making things bearable and for going above and beyond for me, I will hold you dear always 💕

@achaotichuman - At the risk of repeating myself, you're a great person and an even better friend. You've been there when I've needed you most, you've been kind, understanding and unapologetically honest ( which i love ) and for being an amazing writer ( kaimond *sobs* ) and for all the amazing recs. I hold all our unhinged convos close to my heart. Thank you for being yourself 🫶

@matrixsss - YOU ARE PHENOMENAL. Becoming mutuals then friends with you was one of the best decisions I made this year. You're so talented and kind I am over the moon how our vibes match instantly ✨️. Thank you for being someone whom I could rely on and being the personification of comfort. ( we're Kakashi and might guy coded lmao ) Ilysm ( I'll always be there for you ) 🥺💗

@yaralulu - ILY, you're so sweet and fun to talk to. I AM IN LOVE with your writing. Getting to know you and becoming friends was by far one of the best things to happen in 2024. I adore your sense of humor and how you're able to be both sweet and sassy, like 🤌. tysm for dealing with my screaming about itwv ( I still need therapy btw ) and being awesome. Keep slaying ✨️

@praetorqueenreyna - MOTHER, I still remember how I screamed when I saw we were mutuals ( yes I'm an unashamed fangirl ). Thank you so much for introducing me to so many amazing fandoms like iwtv and the captive prince. You are a treasure and I love you so so so much. You're quite literally a role model. ( also tysm for holding my stupid ass back from doing things that would get me cancelled ) KEEP BEING THE ICON YOU ARE 💕

@highlordofkrypton - Awesome falls short for how awesome you are ( I'm lame Ik ). The way we instantly connected and then proceeded to bitch about a situation was the best bonding experience ever. I am in awe of how great of a writer you are. Your stories have me by the throat and what I love most about it is how you include cultures and history and motives in it, It means so much to me. You're an amazing friend ( I am so sorry for all the times I was ready to go to war and you had to keep me in check 😭 ) your intuition is always right, you're multitalented ( an artist now too !!! ). All hail agent Reacher 💗

@thegolden-tigeress - Shree, My Sweetheart, I love you to Saturn and back. Thank you for being the shoulder I could cry on and always uplifting me even I'm going through things. I don't know how I can ever thank you enough for that. You're invaluable to me. My life has been lit ( pun intended ) ever since you walked in it. Tysm for making me laugh, for loving my writing and for always having my back. I couldn't have asked for a better friend 🥺💗💗

@watcherintheweyr - SOULMATE, Oh how I love you, I was so elated that we share sm fandoms and interests. It's usually very hard for me to become friends and then have that bond stay strong but you've proven me wrong. I usually never took the initiative of caring about things happening in people's lives but for you I changed all that. You are like the elder sister I never had, you understand me so well and I love you sm ( totally didn't fall for you just because you had horses ). You're an amazing writer too, I'm OBSESSED with your wordlbuilding and ocs 🛐. I vow to be your hua cheng for eternity. Shine like the star you are Vira, ily forever 💗

[nebularobo]

Hello, I'm NebulaRobo, and I'm a full time digital artist. I've been working on commissions for 7 and a half years, nonstop. I work on art because it's what I love, and also to provide for my family, my mother, and siblings, as they try and work, as we live in a country that pays very poorly, and I make a lot more by underpricing my art online than having a regular job here. And I'm glad and grateful that, because lots of incredibly kind people like my art, I've been able to make a living by drawing. For that, I'll always be grateful!

And I plan on continuing to make art, to work hard, create projects I've always wanted to and manage tens of hours of commission work every week. Because of many expenses this year, to help my partner, my family, my cats' health, the taxes will hit us really hard this month and the next months, and it puts in risk our living conditions. Any sort of help is appreciated, from just kind words, to likes, to commissions, to donations, help me so that I can continue to make art, and help the ones I love. I'll work hard so that this will never be needed again, but it's what I must do at the moment. Thank you to everyone who's ever helped me, even by liking my art, who helped me be able to provide for the ones I love!

Here's my Ko-Fi, commissions prices: https://ko-fi.com/A714PA6 https://x.com/NEBULArobo/status/1717941421993308558

[manipulatedstars]

We'll Be Alright

Genre: fluff, slight angst if you squint, non-idol AU, office romance, coworkers-slash-friends-slash-idiots-to-lovers

Pairing: Mingi x gn!reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: Pink Mingi (a valid warning), symptoms of anxiety and panic but nothing serious, mentions of gambling ig, Wooyoung being Wooyoung

Summary: When Mingi overhears some colleagues talking, he realizes he has to finally make his feelings known - easier said than done.

A/N: Can you believe this bitch (me)? Apparently I write now?? This is my first ever finished fic, and I'm eternally grateful to @hobarine for being the greatest beta reader without agreeing to being one in the first place. I love your sexy brain. [clears throat and wipes tears] I'd also like to thank my dear friends who made this possible in the first place - check the end of the fic for what violently inspired me to write this. Feedback and reblogs appreciated! Also - this is not a song fic (well... I suppose it very much is, but not in that way), but I'll Keep You Safe by Sleeping At Last very much set the tone for this, so I highly recommend you check it out.

The first couple times your new coworker had poked his head around the side of your cubicle, it was all business - or at least as much business as it could be considering that new colleague was Song Mingi.

It had all started out with work-related questions when he joined the company and, being one of the company’s top salespeople, you were quickly tasked with showing him around and answering any questions he might have. Your boss had personally offered Mingi the position, so he wanted to make sure the newcomer was going to stay, considering he was a “natural at his job” and would “undoubtedly prove to be a huge asset to the team.” You'd learned not to question your boss's decisions after he'd proven time and time again that he had a gift for picking out new team members, despite his sometimes questionable and unusual methods.

You also didn't question why Mingi, even after he'd grown accustomed to his new work environment, kept sticking around you. He never addressed this but he was shy around other people and you were still the only one he sort-of knew. And you, having grown to enjoy his company despite him being borderline clueless and painfully clumsy at times, weren't gonna complain.

So what started out as, "I'm so so so sorry, could you please explain the printer to me again? I'm so sor-" quickly turned into deeper, more personal questions and conversations. Not in a weird way, of course, he just really enjoyed being around you and wanted to get to know you better. Or so he kept telling himself and others when someone pointed it out. Over time, he had become fairly confident that you two could be considered friends, and he couldn't be happier. So you got used to him just poking his head, adorned with his signature pink hair, around the corner and asking you about movies and books you’d recently enjoyed, your most hated color (because according to him, asking for a favorite everything was overused), and your go-to spots in the area. At times you'd even catch yourself thinking how cute his childlike nature was. The only thing that put a damper on his mood was when one day he was put in a cubicle on the side of the office furthest away from you, for “productivity reasons" - not that it actually kept him from coming over to you just as often. In fact, he claimed to need a rest at your desk from the “extensive workout” they made him do in order to come this way. You never commented on how he was the only one to blame for full-on sprinting through the office space instead of walking like a normal person.

His favorite days are measured by how often, and how loudly, he managed to make you laugh that day. He could get lost in the sound, and knowing he was the reason for it? He wouldn't be able to wipe the smile from his face if he tried.

If only he knew that his visits had started to become the best part of your day, too...

You were thoroughly enjoying each other's presence. Always having lunch together, and taking a little bit too long to walk to your respective cars after work.

It was a regular Tuesday when Mingi made his way to the break room to get his regular drinks - a green tea for you, and a coffee with an obscene amount of sugar for himself - something you’d chided him for, telling him time and time again it would kill him one day.

He didn’t mind waiting for some coworkers to free up the coffee machine. He’d gotten used to it pretty quickly after the second one had broken some time ago. This just meant that the room was less crowded, since the majority of his colleagues had since chosen to head to the cafeteria downstairs instead of having to stand in line like he was now. But in his opinion, they were the ones missing out. He enjoyed getting to know the usual suspects of the breakroom a little better each time they happened to get something to drink when he did - which was the same time every day.

So it would’ve been just a regular coffee run on a regular Tuesday, if it hadn’t been for the conversation happening in front of him. He wasn’t one to eavesdrop, but nothing caught his attention quite like you did. Or, in this case, your name falling from one of the men’s lips. Mingi decided that he didn’t like the way it sounded coming from someone else, someone who probably didn’t even appreciate you in the way you deserved.

The men didn’t seem to notice him standing close by, or simply didn’t care whether they could be overheard or not, because their conversation didn’t seize.

‘’...I mean have you seen them lately?’’

He sure had.

‘’I’d be stupid not to make a move. They’re a catch.’’

NO! Well, yes..but-

’’Isn’t Song head over heels for them though? Kind of a dick move if you ask me…’’

They knew?

’’Come on, we both know he’s too much of a coward to actually go for it.’’

Mingi began to panic. He’d been so enamored with you since the two of you had been introduced that he’d never even entertained the idea of someone else possibly hitting on you. Of course he knew you were pretty. Gorgeous, even - he had eyes after all. He also knew you were the epitome of grace and kindness. Anyone would be lucky to be with you. But he’d been trying slowly and carefully to inch his way into your heart, and now realized that he was so focused that he hadn’t even considered the possibility of anyone else sharing the same end goal.

God he was so stupid-

He knew he had to act. Fast. Despite his insecurities trying to convince him that you’d surely be better off with someone who didn’t stumble over their words, someone who was confident and could sweep you off your feet, he knew he would forever regret it if he didn’t at least try.

Even if the chances may be slim, he couldn’t live with himself if he lost the opportunity to make you his, especially if he lost it to his own mind.

You were just typing up a response to Park Seonghwa from HR, who had once again asked you to consider joining their team, when suddenly, a loud BANG startled you out of your thoughts. You joined some of your other coworkers in getting up from their seats to see what the commotion was about, and you couldn’t help a bright smile from lighting up your face the moment you saw Mingi standing in the doorway. Though your smile dropped just as quickly when you noticed the look of pure distress on his face, his eyes scanning across the room rapidly. The second your eyes met, he started hurriedly making his way over to you, ignoring any of the worried and questioning glances and occasional comments that people were throwing his way.

What was going on?

‘’Mingi, what-’’ your question was cut short when he gripped your shoulders the moment he reached your cubicle. He was panting, eyes blown wide and never leaving yours, as if he was afraid you’d disappear the moment he so much as blinked.

As if he was only now noticing the stares and whispers directed his way, he glanced around the room timidly. His nerves seemed to catch up with him, because he turned and went to leave as quickly as he’d arrived - if it hadn't been for your quick reflexes and your hand curling around his wrist, stopping him in his motion.

It took you gently calling his name a couple of times for him to finally turn around to face you again - and now you could see the sheen of sweat covering his forehead.

He was also avoiding eye contact.

Now you were really worried. Was he sick? Did something happen?

"Hey, what's wrong?'' No answer. ''You look really pale... are you not feeling well?"

When he stayed silent again, you brought one hand up to his forehead - an instinctive action for you, but definitely not what he’d expected, because his face quickly went from looking sickly pale to flushing a deep scarlet.

Your eyes widened when you noticed how warm his skin was, placing your other hand on one of his cheeks. "Mingi, you're burning up. Do you need to see a doctor?" When again he didn't answer, you turned to grab your things, preparing to carry this man to the nearest hospital if need be, but now it was his hand around your wrist that kept you from moving further.

You glanced from where he was touching you with a gentle yet desperate, clammy hand and back to his face, noting the panic in his eyes that were still refusing to meet your own.

Any stranger passing by would've assumed you were approaching a stray kitten, desperately trying not to scare it off, but you knew how much of a flight risk Mingi could be when things got too much to handle. "Hey, you know you can talk to me, right? I'm only trying to help you," you said with the gentlest voice you could muster despite your racing thoughts.

Yeah, that was the main problem, he thought, you're the only person who makes this job bearable, and I can't lose you by messing this up. You bring both your hands up to cup his cheeks when you notice the tears welling up in his eyes, threatening to spill over.

"Hey, look at me.’’ you dipped your head trying to lure his eyes into meeting yours. ‘’You won't lose me. Why would you?’’ a gentle brush of your thumbs over his pretty cheekbones ‘’How could I make it through one day at this crappy office, with its crappy coffee and the crappy AC that’s broken more often than not, without you?"

Oh shit, his eyes widened even further. Did I say that out loud? Oh god-

He was about to bolt again, mentally calculating how long it would take him to make a detour to a wig store or a hairdresser on his way to the airport, determined to start over in a faraway country, when he involuntarily locked eyes with you. He never understood how you did it, and he was sure there was no possible scientific explanation for the effect you had on him, because the way your eyes, filled with nothing but kindness and understanding, always managed to calm him down instantly was nothing short of magical.

You had to be a heavenly being sent to look out for him - him, this mere human - and him alone. It was in this moment that he remembered what you'd told him time and time again. Realized that he really could say what had been running rampant in his mind for months now. Reminded himself that he could be open and vulnerable with you. You, who had never shown him anything but support and guidance, even when you were having a bad day yourself. Alright. You, who always managed to find a peaceful solution to any argument or tension that arose in the office… He'd be alright. You, who somehow didn't hold grudges even when people had wronged you. You'd both be alright.

You must've noticed the change in his demeanor, because your lips curled up into a small version of one of your beautiful smiles that he loved so much. Shit, he wouldn't be surprised if you could hear his pulse slowing down, his heart rate finally dropping to a point that wouldn't have sent an entire hospital wing into a panic had he been hooked up to a monitor, with news reporters flocking to his bed trying score an interview to find out how the hell he had managed to survive that.

So he closed his eyes, which were now stinging in protest to having been kept open wide for way too long, and took a deep, if shaky, breath.

That was all you, too. Your encouragement to face difficult situations despite every fiber of his being telling him to run. Your influence. You were the one who told him time and time again that things were going to be okay. You showed him that he was in control of his fate and his feelings, and that even when it felt like the whole world was against him, you'd be by his side. No wonder the HR department was desperate to get you to join them…

Mingi couldn't run away now if he tried. He owed you this much. If nothing else, he owed you an explanation, and honesty. He wanted to make you proud.

So with another deep breath, this one a little less shaky (the first one had you worried he might burst into full sobs at any second), he covered your hands in his much larger ones, pulled them from his face and intertwined your fingers with his between your bodies. When he finally opened his eyes again, they were full of determination.

This shift in tone, with him being calmer and more confident than you'd ever seen him, had you thankful for the grasp he had on you, needing his hands around yours in support as your breath hitched when you noticed the raw adoration in his gaze.

His voice, beautifully airy and deeper than you swore you'd ever heard it before, sent shivers down your spine. There was everything yet nothing as you got lost in his gorgeous, warm eyes, and now his voice too. You weren't in your office anymore. You were standing barefoot in a forest, surrounded by majestic trees and vibrant wildlife, a gentle breeze almost calling out your name. You were on a beach, the warm sand comforting between your toes, the waves softly crashing behind you, a pair of strong arms wrapped around your shoulders. You decided then and there that his eyes' gorgeous shade of brown was your new favorite color.

It took his voice calling your name softly to bring you back to the present moment, a bashful smile on his stupidly handsome face. Had he always been this pretty?

"Please tell me you heard what I just said?'' he asked shyly, knowing full well you'd completely spaced out.

"Uh..." You grimaced. At that, he couldn't help but turn his face downward as he murmured to himself, but you were so focused on him now that you had no trouble making out the words. "Oh my god, I can't believe you're making me do this again". He would've buried his face in his hands had they not been occupied with the much more important job of holding the world's greatest treasure.

He hadn't missed the way you'd gotten lost in his eyes, and it only fueled his confidence. He hoped that maybe, just maybe, it was the same way he’d been looking at you more often than not since he'd met you.

He took a deep breath. "I said..." he paused as he brought one of his hands up to your cheek, his other hand easily holding both of yours in their previous position.

You felt yourself blushing. Hard.

Stroking his thumb over your cheek gently, he continued "...that I like you. I like like you. No, scratch that -’’ a gentle shake of his head ‘’-I'm crazy about you.’’ His gaze dropped again as he started rambling. ‘’I hope this doesn't make things weird between us, and I'm so sorry if I read things wrong, and if y-" he started mumbling, nerves catching up to him again, insecurities trying to invade his mind and win back precious land. But you noticed. And you smiled at him in adoration, and squeezed his hand in reassurance. This made him look up at you again. You're going to be alright, you tried to convey with your eyes, we're going to be alright.

Another deep breath, followed by a lighthearted chuckle at his own antics.

"The point is, I really like you, a-and I would love to take you out on a date? O-only if you want to of co-" he couldn't finish the sentence, because you promptly freed your hands and grabbed his face again, pulling him down to you (what they fed him as a kid to get him so tall, you'd really have to ask his parents one day) and pressed your lips to his in a firm and reassuring kiss.

His eyes widened again, cheeks heating back up, but he melted into you as soon as the first shock wore off, arms wrapping around you almost on instinct. As if holding you was their only job, and what they were meant to be doing all his life. He pulled you up to his level seemingly without effort before getting lost in the next kiss. Feeling your fingers running through his hair, he groaned inwardly. Mingi could do this forever, and he would if you let him. He'd figure out a way to survive without oxygen. If not, he decided the team would be fine without him.

You only pulled apart when you noticed the cheers and clapping that had erupted around you, even the occasional wolf-whistle coming from your coworkers, most of who'd gotten up from their seats again, if they’d even settled down after the shock of Mingi’s arrival. You hadn't seen them this lively since the day your boss had ordered a coffee and snack truck to the parking lot in celebration of sealing a deal everybody had worked hard to finally make happen. The majority of them had their headsets still attached, and had you not been so ecstatic you would've felt bad for whoever was getting their ears damaged on the other end of their lines.

"About damn time, Song..."

"TOOK YOU LONG ENOUGH!!

"He finally grew a pair!"

These were only some of the lines being thrown at the two of you that had you blushing furiously, and Mingi hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

You could've sworn you saw a few fist bumps and some money being passed around, but you decided not to dwell on it for your own sanity’s sake...

After the noise had mostly died down, Mingi put you back on your feet just so he could press his forehead to yours, both of your breaths mingling. Maybe oxygen wasn't so bad after all if he got to share it with you.

You almost missed the signature fake gagging sound of your most obnoxious co-worker, but before you could chase him off like you usually would when he started to tease you about the way you, in his words, "spent more time staring at Mingi than actually working", the telltale sound of a palm making not-so-gentle contact with the back of someone's head (and the dramatic pained yelp that followed) made you realize that your boss had already taken care of Wooyoung himself. You swore he kept an extra set of eyes on the mischievous man-child just so he wouldn't miss an opportunity to reprimand him.

The same boss who sent you a curt nod and a small smile, before telling “the two lovebirds" to get back to work. Though you knew that he’d want to have a word with Mingi later, seeing as how the force with which he’d slammed open the door must’ve left at least an indent on the wall behind it.

It was safe to say you didn't get much work done the rest of that day, but you also never had to eat lunch alone again, or walk to your car without a strong, loving hand holding your own...or drive to work yourself, really.

Even years later, with your left ring finger now permanently occupied, you loved to remind him how proud of him you were.

✨Lore time✨

Here's how everything started:

Bonus:

(I was, in fact, not almost done)

A loving shoutout to my dear friends for planting this idea in my head. And thank you to everyone who read through it and left valuable feedback - you know who you are 💜

©manipulatedstars 2023 - do not steal, copy, repost, translate or otherwise plagiarize my work. If you do, I'll eat all your cereal and pour milk in your shoes.

[lanawinterscigarettes]

I loved what you did with the last one so here we go again with the try-and-fit-as-many-as-you-can-in prompt! 4 Clothing prompts and a one word prompt

- Clara (my Clara - sorry had to make an 11 reference)

- Fem Reader

- ³⁷⁾ a white lace bralette

- ³⁴⁾ doctor’s scrubs

- ²³⁾ a loose graphic t-shirt (bonus points if the person wearing it isn’t wearing a bra underneath and it’s practically hanging off their shoulder as if it couldn’t be more obvious that they’re not wearing a bra - although this point is optional)

- ⁵⁾ a borrowed hoodie

- Word: ²⁵⁷) denial

Have fun!

- ⭐️

this one was a bit trickier than the last I'll admit but I'm nothing if not determined so I managed to make it work! I really hope you like it <3

original prompt lists are here and here for those who are curious btw

Doctor's Office (Clara Oswald x fem reader)

Warnings: SMUT, light nipple play, vaginal fingering (reader receiving), light praise kink, roleplay (Clara pretends to be a doctor with the reader as her patient), both the reader and Clara are teases to each other here, orgasm denial

You were so grateful for the TARDIS and it's ability to make any random room appear in it as you wished, because otherwise how would you ever be able to make your appointment with "Doctor Oswald"?

The room you were in certainly did the job of looking like a real doctor's office, complete with the sterile smell and fluorescent lighting. You were already sitting on the exam table when the door opened, displaying none other than Clara herself. Her hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail and she was wearing doctor's scrubs while carrying a clipboard.

"Good afternoon. I'm Doctor Oswald. You must be my next patient, yes?" Her voice was bright and chipper, her smile friendly and inviting. If you didn't know any better, you'd think she was a real doctor, though you both knew that wasn't the case.

"That's right. I'm in for my standard check-up." It took everything in you not to start giggling, and you could tell she was struggling to stay in character the same way you were.

"Well, then," she cleared her throat, doing her best to wipe the smile off her face. "Take off your hoodie and lie back for me, will you?"

Ah, yes. The hoodie. Technically it was Clara's, an oversized one with her university's logo on it that she used to sleep in, but it was so comfy you couldn't help but steal it every now and then. You were well aware of just how much she loved seeing you wear it, so naturally that was your choice which it came to getting dressed for your "appointment".

"Of course, Doctor. Whatever you say." Upon slipping off the hoodie, the loose graphic t-shirt you had on beneath it was revealed to her, one that hung off the shoulder and made it quite clear you weren't wearing a bra.

She was utterly speechless, her brown eyes widened into large chocolate colored orbs at the sight. You had to clear your throat just to get her attention.

"Is there a problem, Doctor Oswald?" You innocently asked, a feigned look of confusion on your face. She knew you were purposely acting coy, that much was certain, but she had to play along.

"Not at all. Let me, um- let me just get on my gloves, and we can begin, alright?" She set down the clipboard onto the counter and put on a pair of plastic surgical gloves before approaching you. "Lay back for me."

You did as she said, allowing her to feel you up- I mean, give you a check up. Her gloved hands brushed all over your body, moving from your hips to your waist to your torso and then back down again. Her hands casually slipped under the hem of your shirt, caressing the area near your belly button before she retreated again.

"I'm going to grab my stethoscope, you just lay there like a good girl for me, okay?"

A shiver went down your spine at her gentle order, leaving behind a tingly feeling in its wake. You'd be good for her, of course you would. You were quite the obedient little patient.

Putting on the stethoscope, she then placed the piece that was supposed to hear your heartbeat on the center of your chest, right between where your breasts were. You weren't entirely certain if it was real, but given just how quickly your pulse was racing you really hoped it wasn't.

She moved the piece around a few times before casually pulling up your shirt so that your breasts were exposed, your nipples hardening almost immediately due to the cold air. You tried to remain calm and relaxed despite everything in your body telling you to pull her in for a sloppy and passionate kiss.

Her thumb grazed over one of the perky buds as she continued to "listen to your heartbeat", something you couldn't tell if she was really doing or not. After a moment or so, she switched hands, the other now holding the piece belonging to the stethoscope over your chest as her now free hand had the opportunity to give your other nipple a light, playful pinch. How dare she tease you like that when you were trying so hard to stay still.

Finally, she was done, something that had you feeling both disappointed and relieved. She pull your shirt back down as she took her stethoscope off and put it back in its proper place. "Well, your heart sounds good. Perhaps I should check something different next?"

"Perhaps, yeah," you suggested eagerly in response, still laying back on the exam table. "I'm a little behind on getting my pelvic exam done, maybe you could do it for me?"

That was something she hadn't expected you to suggest at all, but she couldn't necessarily say she disliked the idea. "Well, according to your chart info, you are a bit overdue. Let's just give it a little check, shall we?"

You nodded your head, unzipping your pants and letting her help you shimmy them down to your ankles before doing the same with your underwear. It was hard not to feel a little exposed, but you trusted Clara implicitly.

She sat down on the small stool and grabbed a bottle of lube from the drawer of the desk before wheeling back over to you, dolloping a good amount on her gloved fingers while she spoke. "Now, this might feel a tad bit uncomfortable, but I just want you to try to relax and stay still for me, okay?"

"Yes, ma'am," you replied immediately at her words, which made her smile. The power and control she had in this situation was addicting to her, there was no doubt about it.

"Good girl." She carefully inserted her fingers, slowly pushing them in about halfway before checking on you. "How does that feel, love? You doing alright?"

"Y- Yeah," you muttered in response, feeling your walls already begin to clench around her fingers on instinct. "I- I'm doing okay."

"Good, good. That means I can continue." She adjusted her doctor's coat with her free hand, unbuttoning it slightly so that the top of her white lace bralette was visible. "Just keep laying back for me."

A barely audible moan was pulled from you when her fingers moved in a little deeper. The position you were in on the exam table gave you a good vantage point of the way her breasts looked in the bra she was wearing, which did nothing but arouse you even more.

You were getting closer now. You could feel as the coil in your stomach got wound tighter and tighter, almost about to pop- And then she pulled her fingers out all the way.

"Well, I'd say that successfully concludes our session for the day," she casually stated while standing up from the stool and removing her gloves before dropping them in a bin nearby. "If you have any follow-up questions, please don't hesitate to make another appointment."

Follow-up questions. Oh, you certainly had some, alright. "Yeah, thanks," you grumbled while watching her go, your pants still pulled down to around your ankles as you laid on the exam table.

She was definitely going to pay for that, big time.

End notes: dedicated to star anon obviously 🫶 I hope you weren't too frustrated by the ending haha

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