#so i had like no time to mentally prepare myself

[freshl6ve]

𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒. 𝐒 | 𝐇𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐒

⭑.ᐟ : 𝐈 𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐥𝐲 𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐠 𝐚𝐬 𝐈 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐛𝐛𝐲. The building, with its sleek design and glass doors, exuded an upscale ambiance. My mind raced with anticipation and anxiety as I made my way to the elevator, punching the button for the floor Chris’ studio resided on.

I had grown concerned about the amount of time he had spent isolated in his studio, pushing himself nonstop without even taking breaks to eat properly.

As the elevator swiftly made its ascent, I leaned against the cool mirrored wall. I glanced down at the display on my phone, my eyes widening at the time. It was well past midnight. A heavy sigh escaped my lips, a mix of worry and disappointment settling on my shoulders.

“He can’t push himself like this,” I muttered to myself in the quiet solitude of the elevator, “Skipping meals, barely sleeping… It’s not healthy.”

Frustration and concern mingled within me, each passing second on the elevator ride felt like an eternity. The quiet hum of the elevator seemed to magnify my anxious thoughts as I silently worried about Chris’ well-being. Every second that passed without a break from his work was another moment he was pushing himself too far, neglecting his own health.

The gentle ding of the elevator brought me back to the present, tearing me away from my worries. The doors opened, revealing the hallway leading to the studio. I took a deep breath, mentally preparing myself for the task ahead.

I straightened my shoulders, gathering the resolve to confront Chris and make him take a break, even if it were just for a few minutes.

I stepped out of the elevator, each step echoing softly against the linoleum floor. The hallway felt endless, my footsteps carrying me closer and closer to his studio. The dim, almost eerie glow from the windows above provided the only illumination in the otherwise dimly lit corridor.

I walked past closed doors and hushed murmurs behind them, my target drawing nearer with every passing second. My heart beat loudly in my chest, anticipation mounting with each step I neared his studio door.

Finally, I reached the door to Chris's studio. The familiar sight of it, with its faint light beneath the door, only amplified my determination to make him pause and remember his well-being. I paused, taking a deep breath to steady my racing heartbeat. With a trembling hand, I softly knocked on the door, trying to gauge if he was even aware of my presence.

Not hearing any response from within, I decided to take a chance. Slowly, I reached for the door knob and gently turned it, pushing the door open just enough for me to slip inside.

The room was dimly lit, casting elongated shadows across the space. The soft glow of his console illuminated the studio, casting eerie shadows that danced across the walls.

There he was, Chris, deeply engrossed in his work, sitting in front of his console, seemingly oblivious to the world around him. His eyes were fixed on the screen, fingers dancing across the keyboard in a rhythmic frenzy.

I let out a soft sigh, seeing him so engrossed in his work. I carefully placed the bag of food down on the couch, doing my best not to make a sound. Stepping closer, I moved towards him quietly, my heart heavy with worry and determination.

Slowly, I moved closer and draped my arms around his neck, gently wrapping them around him. The suddenness of the movement startled him a bit, his body tensing for a moment before relaxing.

I whispered softly, my voice barely above a murmur, the words carrying both tenderness and concern. “You should take a break,” I said, the warmth of my breath lightly grazing his cheek. Even in the dim studio, there was no mistaking my identity. The familiarity in his expression changed immediately upon recognizing me.

He turned his head, his eyes locking with mine, a mix of surprise and amusement crossing his face as he recognized me. A faint smile played on his lips, “How did you get in here?” he asked, his voice a whisper that somehow sounded louder in the quiet room.

I smiled softly, keeping my arms draped around his neck. “The door wasn't locked,” I whispered back, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.

He shook his head, a mix of amusement and exhaustion in his eyes. “You really shouldn't sneak up on me like that,” he admitted, the hint of a smile still lingering on his lips. Despite the tiredness in his voice and the strain evident on his face, there was a spark of amusement and affection.

I leaned against him, my chin resting on his shoulder as I peered at the screen. “Have you even moved from this spot?” I asked, a hint of concern lacing my voice, though it was laced with a gentle tease.

He sighed, rolling his shoulders as his fingers paused momentarily. “I lost track of time,” he admitted, his eyes never leaving the screen. There was a hint of shame in his voice as he realized how long he had been working. I could feel the fatigue radiating off of him, yet he persisted, his passion for music holding him captive.

I leaned a bit closer, my lips brushing softly against the soft skin of his neck, sending shivers down my spine. “Take a break. Please,” I whispered against his neck, my words carrying both a plea and persuasion. My lips lingered gently against him, a silent plea for him to pause and rest.

He let out a soft sigh at the gentle touch of my lips against his neck, the tenderness of my plea settling in his heart. He closed his eyes for a moment, seemingly conflicted between his desire to work and the quiet demand of my plea, a battle of his passions waging within him.

The soft touch of my lips against his neck sparked something that began to overshadow his desire to work. The tension in the air shifted, the vulnerability of the moment mingling with the exhaustion of his work. His resolve began to waver as his senses became acutely aware of my presence, my pleading request lingering in his mind.

My lips continued to move against his neck, tracing a gentle path of kisses. Each touch brought forth a shiver from him, his muscles tensing in response to the sensations. I could feel the conflict within him, the war between his duty to his work and the allure of a different kind of desire taking hold.

As I continued to trail kisses along his neck, I softly whispered against his skin, my words carrying a mix of reassurance and temptation. “You need to take care of yourself, Chris,” I murmured, my lips grazing his collarbone, “You're pushing yourself far too hard.” Each word was a gentle plea, a soft reminder of his well-being amidst the desire that brewed between us.

He let out a soft sigh, but a hint of stubborn resolve lingered, “I'm almost done, I promise. Just a few more minutes,” he whispered back. His words were a weak defense, a faint attempt to hold onto his work, though the wavering tone in his voice betrayed his true exhaustion.

I sighed against his skin, feeling the familiar stubborn streak in his response, “You always say that,” I whispered, my lips lingering against his jawline, the warm brush of my breath creating a faint shiver in him. My words were soft, a reminder of his habit to always push himself further, promising to finish soon, yet never actually allowing himself to take a rest.

As Chris focused on the computer screen, I had an idea, knowing exactly what will make him stop. I moved closer, my voice barely a whisper against his ear, my words carrying a mix of desire and need: “I need you.”

The words hung in the air, their simplicity yet earnestness capturing his attention effortlessly. He froze, his eyes fixed on the screen, the weight of the words sinking in. A soft shiver ran through him, his focus shattered by the undeniable need in my voice, the power of three simple words.

I pulled away from his neck and moved in front of him, my movements slow and almost teasing. I carefully positioned myself, sitting on his lap; the warmth of his body against mine, my eyes meeting his, my hands resting on his chest. As I settled in, I could feel the tension in his muscles.

He couldn't help but feel the allure of my closeness as I settled in his lap. His eyes met mine, the usual focus they held for his work now replaced by a mix of exhaustion and a hint of vulnerability. The weight of my gaze on him made his resolve waver, the intensity of the moment pulling him away from his work and towards me.

As my arms encircled his neck, I felt him tense beneath me. Slowly, softly, I began grinding against him, my moves barely a whisper against his frame. The small, subtle movement ignited a spark of desire within us both, the tension in his body growing more pronounced.

My hands tentatively reached out, caressing Chris’s face, feeling the familiar sharp jawline and gentle curve of his cheeks. “Chris...I’ve missed you so much.”

As my lips brushed against Chris's ear, I whispered, “I've missed your touch, your voice, your everything. It's been so long since I've felt your lips on mine, your hands on my body... I've had to do it all myself, imagining it's you.”

Chris's breath hitched as my words washed over him. “I'm so sorry, baby,” he murmured, his voice laced with guilt. “I've just been so busy in the studio, trying to get this album done.”

“Yet you don't take breaks,” I sighed, my fingers tracing soothing patterns on his chest. “You look so stressed, darling. Let me help you relax, hmm?” I purred, my hips grinding against him once more. “If you'll let me.”

Chris's resolve crumbled as I continued my sensual assault. “Fuck, Y/N...” he groaned, his hands finally coming up to grip my hips. “I can’t, I gotta finish this album.”

“Please, Chris...” I begged, nipping at his earlobe. “Just tonight. Let me remind you of how good it is between us. You need a break, and I need you.” I ground against him again, my body aching with need.

With a low growl, Chris finally succumbed to temptation. His hands tightened on my hips as he pulled me flush against him. “Fuck it,” he muttered, capturing my lips in a searing kiss.

His strong arms wrapped around my waist, pulling my hips even closer as I straddled him. He gripped my ass possessively, his fingers kneading the flesh as he deepened the kiss, his tongue dancing with mine.

I moaned into his mouth, my fingers tangling in his hair as I rocked against him, the friction driving both of us crazy.

Breaking the kiss, I gazed into Chris's eyes with a smoldering look. “Let me take care of you,” I purred, my hands sliding under his shirt to caress the toned muscles beneath. “I want to worship every inch of you.”

Chris's eyes rolled back as I began to worship his body, my hands roaming over his chest and stomach, my lips trailing kisses over his jaw and neck. I reached down and unbuttoned his pants, sliding my hand inside to wrap around his thick, hard length.

Chris hissed through his teeth, his fingers digging into my back as I slowly stroked him. “Y/N... that feels so good, baby,” he panted, his hips bucking against my touch. I grinned mischievously, loving the control I had over him. “Shh, just relax,”

I continued to stroke him slowly, my thumb rubbing against the sensitive head of his cock. Chris threw his head back, his breaths coming in ragged gasps as he neared the edge. Just when he seemed about to cum, I stopped, leaving him twitching and aching in my hand.

I slowly lifted the hem of Chris's shirt, revealing his chiseled abs and toned arms. My fingers trailed along his skin, sending shivers down his spine as I exposed more and more of his chest. Finally, I pulled the shirt off completely, tossing it aside to admire his gorgeous physique.

I nuzzled his jaw, my lips tracing a path down to his neck. I sucked gently at his throat, leaving a mark – a claiming mark. Chris groaned, tilting his head to give me better access. “God, Y/N...” he groaned, his hands gripping my thighs.

I marked his neck, his collarbone, and his chest, each love bite eliciting a moan or groan from Chris. His hands roamed over my body, caressing my curves through the thin fabric of my shirt. “Baby...” he panted, “you’re gonna be the death of me..”

I left another mark on his chest, just above his heart. Each mark made Chris groan and flex under me, his body tensing as he tried to rein in his desire.

I smirked, knowing that Chris would never hide these marks. He'd wear them proudly, like badges of honor, showing the world that he belonged to me. The thought made me even more possessive, and I leaned down to place more marks on his collarbone and shoulders.

I ground my hips against him, my core pressing against his clothed erection. The tip of his cock poked out of his pants, rubbing against my stomach as I moved. Chris let out a strangled groan, his hands gripping my thighs tightly as he tried to stay still and let me take control.

I trailed my lips down his chest, kissing each mark I’d left behind. Chris watched me with heavy-lidded eyes, his breath coming in short pants. I kissed lower, my lips brushing against his toned stomach. I knelt before him, pushing his pants down to his thighs.

Chris lifted his hips, allowing me to push his pants down further. His erection sprang out, hard and ready. I wrapped my hand around the base, my thumb and fingers not quite meeting. Chris’s hips bucked forward, his head falling back against the seat as he groaned. “Y/N...”

I licked my lips, admiring his impressive size. Slowly, teasingly, I ran my tongue along the underside of his shaft from base to tip. Chris shuddered, his hands fisting in my hair. I swirled my tongue around the head, tasting the bead of precum at the tip.

I ran my tongue along the prominent veins on Chris's cock, feeling the pulse of his heartbeat in his shaft. His veins throbbed against my tongue, and I could taste the saltiness of his skin. I wrapped my lips around the head, sucking gently as I looked up at Chris's face.

Chris's eyes were closed, his mouth open in a silent scream of pleasure. I sucked harder, my lips stretching around his girth. I bobbed my head, taking more of him into my mouth with each pass. My hand wrapped around the base, stroking in time with my mouth.

Chris's hand came to my head, his fingers tangling in my hair. He didn't force me down, just guided me gently as his hips thrust up in tiny increments. His breathing grew ragged, his grip on my hair tightening as he neared his release. “Y/N...Baby” he panted, “You can stop...I’m not gonna last...” I hummed around him, my vibrations making Chris groan louder.

I looked up at Chris through my lashes, my eyes watering from the effort of taking him so deep. “I wanna taste all of you” I mumbled, the vibrations pushing him closer to the edge. I wanted to taste him, to swallow every drop. Chris's face contorted, his jaw clenching as he finally let go, spilling into my mouth with a low groan. Chris's eyes locked onto mine as he finally let go.

I pulled back, allowing some of Chris’s release to dribble down my chin. I caught it with my fingers, using it to slick my hand. I stroked him, milking every last drop from him as he twitched in my hand.

Chris let out a shuddering groan, his eyes fluttering closed as his release coated his stomach. His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath. I admired my handiwork, seeing the satisfied smile on Chris's face as he watched me.

Chris opened his eyes slowly, a chuckle escaping his lips as he looked down at his sticky stomach. “Mmmm, baby...” He let out a shuddering groan, “you're gonna be the death of me.” He looked up at me, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

I stood up slowly, hovering over Chris's prone form. “Good” I purred, leaning down to capture his lips in a deep, sensual kiss. My hair fell around us like a curtain, cocooning us in our own little world.

Chris's hands slowly snaked up my thighs, over my hips, to the hem of my shirt. He broke the kiss, his eyes locked onto mine as he slowly began to lift my shirt. “I want to see you, baby...all of you.” His voice was low, almost reverent.

I lifted my arms, allowing Chris to pull my shirt up and over my head. He tossed it aside, his eyes devouring the sight of me. He reached out, tracing his fingers over the swell of my breasts, the dip of my waist, and the gentle curve of my hips.

His fingers brushed over my bare breasts, his brows furrowing as he realized I wore no bra. “No bra? You knew I was going to give in didn’t you?” His voice was accusing, but his fingers continued to caress me, his thumbs brushing over my hardened peaks.

I bit my lip, trying to hold back a smile. “Maybe I did,” I admitted, my voice breathy. Chris let out a growl, his hands moving to cup my breasts. He kneaded them gently, his thumbs rolling over my nipples.

“You're so...perfect,” Chris murmured, his eyes locked onto my face. He sat up, wrapping his arms around me as he buried his face between my breasts. He kissed and nuzzled them, his hands roaming over my back and hips.

I tangled my fingers in Chris's hair, holding him close as he worshipped my breasts. His mouth found my nipple, suckling and teasing until I was arching into his touch. “Chris...” I breathed, my head falling back in pleasure.

Chris's hands tightened on me, his lips moving to my other breast. He nipped gently at my hardened peak, soothing it with a suckle. “Mmmm, you like that don’t you?” He asked, his voice muffled against my skin.

His hands slid down to my ass, gripping and kneading the soft flesh. “I'm going to make you feel so good, baby,” Chris promised, his voice low and filled with desire.

Chris's hands slid down to the hem of my sweats. He looked up at me, his eyes filled with determination. “I'm going to make up for all the time I've wasted in here,” he promised, his fingers slowly pushing the fabric down over my hips.

As my sweats pooled around my ankles, Chris eyes roaming over my bare legs. He reached out, hooking his fingers under my underwear and slowly pulling them down. “So beautiful,” he breathed, tossing the underwear aside.

I stepped out of the discarded clothing, standing bare before Chris. He reached out, his hands slowly sliding up my thighs. His touch sent shivers through me, and I bit my lip as his fingers found my center. “So wet...”

Chris groaned, his fingers dipping into my folds. He rubbed slow, circular motions over my clit, his thumb pressing gently against my entrance. “Fuck, you're soaked,” he muttered, his eyes never leaving my face as he continued to tease my pussy.

I swayed on my feet, my knees buckling slightly as pleasure washed over me. Chris's strong arms wrapped around me, supporting me as he continued to play my body like an instrument. “Chris...please,”

“Please what, baby?” Chris asked, his voice low and taunting. His fingers continued their slow torture, never quite giving me what I needed. “Please...touch me...please...” I panted, my nails digging into his shoulders for support. Chris chuckled darkly, “With pleasure.”

Chris stood up, lifting me into his arms and sitting me down on the office chair. He placed my legs over each armrest, spreading me open for him. “Perfect,” he muttered, his eyes roaming over my exposed pussy.

Chris dropped to his knees, his face hovering over my dripping entrance. He looked up at me, his eyes burning with desire. “I'm going to eat this pretty little pussy until you cum all over my face,” he promised before burying his face between my thighs.

His tongue delved into my folds, parting them to taste me fully. He licked and suckled, his hands gripping my thighs to hold me in place. I writhed on the chair, my hands clutching the armrests as Chris feasted on me like a starving man.

Chris continued his oral assault, his tongue delving deep inside my dripping channel. He licked and sucked, savoring my essence. Two fingers joined his tongue, pumping in and out of my tight heat. He curled them just right, stroking that special spot inside me that made my toes curl.

Chris looked up at me, his eyes locked on mine as he devoured my pussy. I tried to close my legs, but he opened them, keeping his face buried in my folds. I reached down and buried my hand in his hair, trying to pull him away but he only gripped my thighs tighter.

“Chris...Oh god...Chris...” I moaned, my back arching off the chair. His tongue was relentless, his fingers driving me closer and closer to release. “Chris...I'm...I'm going to...” I panted, my hand gripping his hair tighter.

“Not yet,” Chris growled, pulling back just as I was on the verge. I whimpered, my hips bucking forward, needing that last push to send me over the edge. “Please...please, Chris...” I begged, my voice hoarse from moaning.

Chris grinned mischievously, burying his face back between my thighs. His fingers pumped in and out of me, curving upwards to rub that magical spot inside. His mouth latched onto my opening, sucking hard as his fingers worked their magic. “Chris...please...I can't...”

“Shut up and cum,” Chris demanded, his fingers pistoning in and out of me. He added a third finger, stretching me further as he finger-fucked me with ruthless intensity. His mouth never left my pussy, sucking and licking furiously.

I wrapped my hand around Chris's hair, holding on for dear life as he destroyed me with his fingers and mouth. “CHRIS! CHRIS! OH FUCK, CHRIS!” I screamed, my whole body shaking as the pressure built to a breaking point.

“That's it, baby. Cum for me,” Chris encouraged, his fingers curling inside me, pressing hard on that spot. His mouth sealed around my entrance, sucking hard as his fingers pumped in and out.

My entire world narrowed down to the feeling of Chris's fingers and mouth on my pussy. I felt like I was going to pass out from the intensity of it all. “I'M CUMMING! I'M CUMMING!” I yelled, my legs trembling as my orgasm hit me like a truck.

Chris didn't let up, milking my pussy for every drop of cum as I shook and spasmed in the chair. He finger-fucked me through my entire orgasm, his mouth still sealed around my entrance. When I finally collapsed back in the chair, panting and dripping with sweat, Chris finally pulled away.

“You're fucking delicious,” Chris said, licking his lips. He brought his fingers to his mouth, sucking my juices off of them. “I could eat this pussy for hours.” I whimpered, oversensitive from my intense orgasm. Chris just smirked, clearly pleased with himself.

Chris leaned over me, his hands braced on the armrests. He brought his glistening fingers to my mouth, painting my lips with my own essence. “Taste yourself,” he ordered, his voice low and commanding. I parted my lips, tasting the evidence of my arousal on his fingers.

Chris leaned in the rest of the way, capturing my lips in a searing kiss. His tongue delved into my mouth, exploring every inch as he shared my taste with me. I moaned, my arms wrapping around his neck as we made out hungrily.

Chris scooped me up into his arms, settling back into the chair with me in his lap. He wrapped his arms around my waist, holding me close as we continued to make out passionately. I straddled his legs.

Chris's hands tightened around my waist, pulling me even closer as he trailed kisses along my jawline and down to my neck. I let my head fall back, exposing more of my neck to him. As he kissed and sucked on my neck, I felt his hard length beneath me.

I reached down between our bodies, my fingers wrapping around his thick, hard shaft. I moaned at the feel of him, so hot and heavy in my hand. I notched the head of his erection at my entrance and slowly began to lower myself onto him.

“Oh fuck,” Chris groaned as I sank down onto his cock. I threw my head back with a loud moan as he stretched and filled me completely. “You feel so good around me,” he panted, his hands gripping my hips. I started to move, rolling my hips in a slow grind.

Chris's mouth returned to my neck, his lips and teeth nipping and sucking at my delicate skin. He marked me thoroughly, leaving a trail of love bites down to my collarbone. “Ride me, baby,” he whispered, his hands guiding my hips as I continued to move atop him.

His grip on my hips tightened, and he began to thrust up into me hard and fast, meeting my downward motions with powerful upward jerks. The sound of our bodies slapping together filled the room, punctuated by our labored breaths and moans.

“Fuck yeah, ride my dick just like that,” Chris grunted, his voice rough with lust. “Take it hard, baby, take it deep. You're so fucking tight around me, I can feel every inch of your pussy.” He reached up to pinch and roll my nipples, adding to the intensity.

“Your little cunt is squeezing my dick so tight, I can feel myself hitting your cervix with every thrust,” he whispered in my ear, his hot breath sending shivers down my spine. “You're gonna make me cum so hard inside you, fill your fucking pussy with my seed.”

“Look at you, taking me so well. Look at how beautifully you're being stretched around me,” he panted. “You're such a good girl, aren't you? Being so good at taking my big, thick cock. But you can take more, can't you, baby?”

Without warning, Chris slammed me down hard onto his lap, fully sheathing himself inside me. I screamed, my fingers digging into his shoulders as I clung to him. “That's it, mark me up,” he growled, his hips bucking upwards as he pounded into me mercilessly.

His hands gripped my ass tightly, lifting and lowering my body onto his lap in quick, brutal movements. The sound of wet, meaty impacts filled the room as he mercilessly drilled up into me, each thrust pushing me closer to the edge. “Harder, Chris, please!”

“Gladly,” he hissed through gritted teeth, his pace quickening even more. His powerful arms lifted and dropped my body onto his lap with such force that the chair shook and creaked ominously. Each brutal thrust pushed me higher and higher, my breath coming in short, desperate pants.

“Is this what you wanted, hmm? To make me abandon my album just so I could spend hours buried deep inside you?” He grunted, slamming me down onto him particularly hard. “You're insatiable, you know that? Always begging for more, always needing to be filled.”

“I'm gonna keep pounding into you like this until you forget your own name,” he whispered in my ear, his voice a low, menacing growl. “Until all you can remember is how it feels to have me inside you. Until you're a mindless, quivering mess beneath me.”

With a swift motion, Chris stood, still buried deep inside me. He carried me to his large desk and swept his arms across its surface, sending recording equipment and papers flying to the floor with a single, powerful swing.

“Chris, your equipment!” I gasped, concerned for his expensive gear. He silenced me with a searing kiss, his hands gripping my bottom tightly as he continued to thrust into me. “Forget about it,” he rasped, “Right now, the only thing that matters is you.”

His hands gripped the edge of the desk, knuckles turning white as he powered into me, his hips slamming against mine with brutal force. The solid wooden desk shook and groaned beneath us, mirroring the sounds of our united bodies. “Chris, it's too much!”

“Take it,” he snarled, his voice barely recognizable. “You can take more. You can take everything I give you.” His hands slid under my thighs, tilting my hips to accept his merciless rhythm. “And you will.”

My fingers scrambled for purchase on the polished surface of the desk as he mercilessly drove into me, again and again. His breath came in hot, heavy pants against my neck, his teeth sinking into my shoulder as he growled.

“Come on baby, don't hold back. Let me hear those sweet moans,” he urged, punctuating his words with a particularly deep thrust. “The studio's soundproof - no one will hear you scream my name as I fuck you senseless.”

I threw my head back, a loud, uninhibited moan echoing through the soundproofed room. “C-Chris!” I cried out, my nails raking down his back as he continued to pound into me with relentless intensity.

His response was a guttural groan, his pace quickening as my walls tightened around him. “Good. Louder,” he urged, his hands sliding up my body to palm my breasts. His thumbs strummed over my hardened peaks, drawing another loud, desperate moan from my lips. “Again.”

“CHRIS!” I screamed, my voice hoarse from the sheer volume of my cries. The sound of wet, slapng flesh filled the room, mingling with our labored breaths and my ear-piercing moans.

With a swift motion, Chris spun me around, bending me over his desk. My palms pressed flat against the cool wood as he kicked my legs apart, positioning himself behind me. “Keep screaming for me, baby,” he commanded, lining himself up with my entrance. “Let me hear how much you love this.”

His large hands gripped my hips, pulling me back as he surged forward, filling me to the brim. “Oh GOD, Chris!” I shrieked, my back arching as he set a brutal pace, slamming into me from behind.

“Louder, baby. Tell me who's making you feel this way,” he growled, his fingers digging into my flesh as he increased his tempo. The desk shook violently beneath us, papers scattering to the floor as he drilled into me with unbridled passion.

“IT'S YOU, CHRIS! ONLY YOU!” I practically screamed, my voice raw and desperate. Tears of ecstasy streamed down my face as he hit that perfect spot inside me over and over again. My inner walls fluttered around his thickness, drawing him in deeper with each thrust.

His answer was a feral grunt, his hips snapping against my ass with reckless abandon. The desk creaked ominously, on the verge of collapse as Chris fucked me with primal intensity. “Fuck, you're so tight,” he panted, his breath hot against my back. “So fucking tight.”

As he fucked me, Chris reached for his phone on his desk, pressing a button to record our sounds. He couldn't resist the opportunity to capture my raw, uninhibited moans to add to one of his songs in the future. The thought only spurred him on, his thrusts becoming even more brutal.

Blissfully unaware of his little recording session, I was lost to the world, my existence narrowed down to the point where our bodies joined. His large hands roamed my ass, squeezing and kneading my flesh before delivering a stinging slap. “Chris!”

Satisfied with the snippet he'd captured, Chris hit stop and tossed his phone aside. He sank back into his chair, pulling me with him so that I straddled his lap. His hands gripped my hips, guiding me up and down on his lap as he continued to stretch me wide open.

I gripped the armrest tightly, my fingers turning white as I lifted myself up and down on his lap, impaling myself on his thick hardness. His broad chest pressed against my back, his hands slowly sliding up my torso to palm my breasts.

He toyed with my peaks, pinching and rolling them between his fingers as I rode him harder, my inner muscles clenching around his shaft. “That's it, baby,” he encouraged, his hot breath washing over my neck. “Ride me just like that.”

The wet sounds of our coupling filled the room as I bounced on his lap, my ass slapping against his thighs with each downward motion. Chris's fingers sank into the flesh of my breasts, kneading the soft mounds as he rocked his hips to meet my thrusts.

One hand continued to worship my breast, while the other slid down my body, seeking out my most sensitive spot. His calloused fingertips strummed over my swollen bud, drawing a loud, keening cry from my lips.

My whimpering moans filled the room as Chris's fingers worked my clit in time with my rides, sending shockwaves of pleasure through my trembling body. “Oh god, oh god, oh god!” I chanted, my vision blurring as the edges of my control began to fray.

His long, skilled fingers danced across my sensitive nub, spreading me open even wider as he sought to drive me mad with pleasure. The sensation of his thick digits rubbing against my inner walls and his thumb pressing against my clit was too much for my overwhelmed senses.

“Not yet,” he whispered in my ear, his voice low and commanding. “Hold it back for me a little longer.” His fingers continued to play me like an instrument, coaxing more needy whimpers and desperate pleas from my lips.

Leaning forward, he wrapped an arm around my waist and lifted me off of him, carrying me the short distance to his desk. He sat me down on the edge and stepped between my legs, pushing back inside me with one long, forceful thrust.

His hands gripped my thighs, spreading me wide as he drove in deep, the angle allowing him to reach even higher inside me. Our eyes locked as he began to move, the heat in his gaze scorching me from the inside out. “Look at me, Baby,” he rasped.

I couldn't tear my eyes away from his, drowning in the intensity burning there. My nails dug into his shoulders as I held on for dear life, my body coiling tighter and tighter. “I'm so close,” I whimpered, my hips rolling to meet his increasingly powerful thrusts.

Chris pulled me into his chest, our faces pressed together as he continued to pound into me. His arms wrapped around my waist, holding me close as he buried his face in the crook of my neck. The desk shook beneath us as he fucked me with reckless abandon, his breath hot against my skin.

My hands slid down his back, fingers curling to rake down his back in sharp, stinging lines. Chris hissed, the sound of his breath against my ear sending a fresh wave of heat pooling between my thighs. “Cum for me,” he rasped, his lips brushing against mine.

As our lips met, my entire body convulsed, orgasm crashing over me like a tidal wave. I jerked my head back, breaking the kiss as a scream of ecstasy tore from my throat. My pussy clenched around Chris's cock, Milking him for all he was worth as my climax seized me completely.

“AHHH!!! OH GOD, OH FUCK, CHRIS!!!” I wailed, my voice echoing through the room as my vision went white. Chris's mouth opened in a silent scream, his face contorting in pure, unadulterated bliss as he emptied himself inside me.

Chris collapsed against me, his sweat-slicked body draping over mine as he struggled to catch his breath. He rested his head in the crook of my neck, his chest heaving against my own as the last tremors of our shared climax rolled through us.

As our bodies began to still, our combined release trickled down my thighs to join the growing puddle on the floor beneath us. Our ragged breaths filled the room, mingling with the soft sounds of our labored pants as we both tried to regain some semblance of control over our bodies.

I could feel Chris slowly softening inside me, his once rigid member gradually losing its firmness as the afterglow of our passionate lovemaking began to fade. He shifted slightly, nuzzling into the sweat-dampened skin of my neck as he fought to steady his breathing.

His lips ghosted over my neck, placing a soft, gentle kiss just behind my ear before he began to trail more of them down the length of my throat. His body was heavy against mine, but I reveled in his weight, relishing the feel of him still deep within me.

“I needed that so much,” Chris murmured against my skin, his voice barely above a whisper. His arms tightened around me, pulling me even closer as his kisses continued to pepper my neck and shoulders.

I let out a content sigh, tilting my head to give him better access. “Me too,” I breathed, my own voice hoarse from our passionate cries. His hands began to roam over my body, caressing my curves with a tenderness that belied the fierce passion we had just shared.

Chris shifted his head slightly, bringing his lips tantalizingly close to mine until they hovered mere millimeters apart. The warmth of his breath mingled with my own, creating an electric tension between us. His eyes glimmered with affection and lingering desire as he gazed into my eyes.

I reached up, threading my fingers through his damp, messy hair as I studied his face. I loved how he always looked a little undone after we fuck, his usual neat appearance replaced by a charmingly rumpled state.

Even disheveled and sated, Chris looked perfect to me. His features were soft with post-coital relaxation, his eyes still shining with warmth and affection. I loved him like this, all rumpled and mine.

Chris couldn't help but smirk slightly as he felt me admiring his post-coital disarray. “Like what you see?” he teased lightly, his voice still husky from exertion.

I couldn't but let out a small, fond laugh at his playful comment. “Always,” I confessed, gently mussing his hair further just to watch it fall endearingly across his forehead.

Chris chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he gazed up at me adoringly. He lifted a hand to cover mine, still tangled in his hair, and brought it to his lips to press a tender kiss to my palm.

Chris leaned in, closing the remaining distance between us until his lips met mine in a slow, deep kiss. It was different from the heated, urgent kisses we had shared earlier - this one was softer, more languid, a gentle exploration rather than a desperate claiming.

As the kiss gradually ended, Chris rested his forehead against mine, a small, satisfied smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “We should probably get cleaned up,” he murmured, his voice still low and intimate.

“Turns out the studio wasn’t as soundproof as we thought,” Chris admitted wryly a few days later, as we sat on his couch, my head resting in his lap while he absently toyed with my hair.

I sat up slightly, my brows furrowing with worry as I looked up at him. “What do you mean?” Chris let out a low chuckle and reached into his pocket to pull out a crumpled piece of paper, which he unfolded and handed to me.

I scanned the note, my eyes widening as I read the not-so-subtle complaint. “...disturbing the peace with loud... noises...?” I quoted, my voice trailing off embarrassedly. Chris merely grinned, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

“You knew, didn’t you?” I accused, my cheeks flaming as I tossed the paper back at him. He caught it deftly, still smirking. I blushed furiously, burying my face in my hands.

“Chris!” He laughed, pulling my hands away from my face gently. “I knew the studio was supposed to be soundproof,” he admitted, still grinning. “But I had no idea you could be so... vocal.”

I glared at him, trying to maintain my indignation despite the warmth spreading through my chest at his teasing. “Vocal? I’ll have you know, I was being perfectly reasonable in my reaction!” Chris chuckled, setting the paper aside and turning his attention back to me. “Reasonable?”

He reached out, his fingers brushing against my cheek as he turned my face up to meet his gaze. “Baby, you were practically screaming at the top of your lungs. I think ‘reasonable’ is stretching it a bit.” I rolled my eyes, a small sigh escaping me as I leaned into his touch.

“Mmm, you were just taking it so well,” he murmured, his voice dropping to that low, sultry register that always made my insides quiver. His face inched closer to mine, his breath warm against my lips. “Like a good girl.”

Chris cupped my face tenderly with one large hand, his thumb caressing my cheekbone as he held me still. Then, ever so slowly, he closed the remaining distance between us until his lips brushed against mine in the gentlest of kisses.

As Chris pulled away, he took my hand and led me over to his desk. “I want to play you something,” he said with a mischievous grin. He sat down on the chair and patted his lap, inviting me to join.

I hesitated briefly before acquiescing, settling myself onto his firm thighs. Chris wrapped one arm around my waist. He pulled up the music production software on his computer and hit play, filling the room with sensual beats and his husky vocals. As I listened closely, my eyes widened in shock.

“Oh my god, Chris!” I squeaked, my cheeks flaming red as I recognized my own voice woven into the song. My breathy moans, my soft gasps, my cries of his name – all of them were sampled throughout the track.

“How did you even mange to capture that?” Chris grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he leaned back in his chair. “When I had you bent over the desk, my phone was right next to you,” he explained, his smirk growing wider. “I recorded a little something while I was inside you.”

Chris leaned in, capturing my lips in a passionate kiss. “Next time,” he murmured against my mouth, “we should probably try to keep it down, at least a little. Unless you like the idea of me sharing more of your... vocal talents with the world.”

A/N: THANK YOU FOR 700 MILLION FOLLOWERS!!!

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── .✦ MASTER—LIST ⭑𓂃

[theereina]

Bad News Pt. 3

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC "Bella"

Wordcount: +1.7K

Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, no smut, heavily dialogue-centered, mental health mentioned (anxiety), *emotional distress*, angst, heartbreak, health conditions mentioned (c*ncer, PCOS, endometriosis), infertility, verbal and physical ab*se mentioned

A/N: I'm open to critiques. I am a little 🤏🏽 sensitive about my writing. Please, don't be too harsh.🥺 Feel free to bring my attention to any typos. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Also, this work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than here on Tumblr). I do NOT give consent for any form of republishing or rewriting.

Bad News Pt. 1=> 😢

Bad News Pt. 2=> 😢

Masterlist: 🔥🔥🔥

Over A Month After Mike's Funeral

“He said he'd leave the door unlocked, so I can just go in and get the rest of my stuff,” I said getting out of the car. “My legs hurt so damn bad,” Shante said bending over. “Old ass!” I laughed as I walked to the door.

As I lifted my hand to turn the doorknob, all of the memories from the night before I left came flooding back. “You good?” Shante asked as she walked up behind me. “Yeah, flashbacks whoopin’ my ass. I can't believe that… Fuck!” I said sobbing. Shante’s arms wrapped around me. “Oh, Bella. You'll be okay, mama. You know me and Mama gotchu,” she said swaying from side to side.

This was the first time since the day Terry called that I had realized how much life had changed. The surgery was “successful”. Testing showed no more immediate signs of cancer. The possibility of me getting pregnant was slim to none and would take a miracle, but I was trying to be as optimistic as possible about the situation.

“I'm fine. I promise,” I said patting her hands. She slowly released me from her embrace. “You’re strong, ya’ know. You always have been,” she said playfully bumping my shoulder. “Thank you for that. Honestly, I wish I didn't have to be. What's the reward in it?” I said reaching for the doorknob again.

Upon entering the house, I noticed that everything seemed to be untouched. It was as if Terry had barely stayed here since then. “Has he even been here?” Shante asked spinning around and taking in the scenery. She seemed to be just as confused as me. “I don't know. I didn't really ask. We only text about me coming to get my stuff,” I said walking further into the house.

The longer I stood there; the more I felt an overwhelming sense of dread, worry, and something I couldn't explain. It seemed off. It was almost as if this wasn't anyone's home anymore.

“Let's just go upstairs,” I said shuddering. As I turned to go up the stairs, I heard the sound of a vehicle pulling into the driveway. “I thought his bitch ass wasn't coming while you were here,” Shante said barreling towards the door. She grabbed the doorknob and swung it open. “That's what he…,” I started to say.

To my surprise, it wasn't Terry pulling in at all. I saw his mother climbing out of her small sedan. “Shit! It's his mama. What the hell?” I said palming my face. I hadn't prepared myself to face any of them— not Terry or his parents.

I could see her smile before she even reached the door. “Hi, honey. May I come in?” she asked looking at me. Her hands gripped her purse strap so tight that her knuckles turned white. “Yes… yes, ma'am. How are you?” I asked turning to meet her in the living room. “Good, how about you? I haven't spoken to ya’ since ya’ left,” she said walking up to me. She looked at Shante and mouthed a silent hello.

I didn't know what to say to her. Did I tell her the truth? Did I lie about what happened? Was I supposed to protect Terry? Should I even fucking care?

“I've been fine,” I said trying to stifle my emotions. I knew that my face and body language always gave me away. I wore my emotions outwardly like a second skin or a mask. “Don't lie to me, baby?” she said grabbing my hands. I looked down at the floor. “Bella,… maybe you should just… y’know,” Shante mumbled while shrugging her shoulders. “I've asked that boy a million times. He's as stubborn as a mule. He didn't hurt you did he?” she asked stepping closer. “No, but… Yeah, but not physically. Then again, every word he said felt like a punch to the gut. He…,” I said as the tears began to fall.

Before I knew it, I had told his mother everything— what happened that night, the next day, and what happened to me afterward. I even told her about the surgery and diagnoses.

“I'll be the first to admit that we missed the mark with Terry when it comes to emotional intelligence. His father was so set on raising a man that he just couldn't let the boy feel things. Y’know… he couldn't cry, be upset, or… Or, else. Yes, Terry is a grown-ass man, but… I don't know,” Terry's mother grew silent. It was like she had become lost in her thoughts.

“All I wanted was an apology. If he would've just… just heard me out and listened. But, I guess I wasn't worth it. I get it. Mike was in trouble, but I felt like I was fighting for my life… by my… by my damn self. He wasn’t talkin’ to me. He wasn't communicating with me at all. He was just telling me what he was gonna do, and that was it. I… I… I tried my hardest to let it go, but he had already said too much. There was no turning back after what he said. Whether he was angry, overwhelmed, or not; he hurt me!” I said leaning on my hands on the kitchen counter.

“I know. I'm sorry, honey. That's why I'm gone tell you this, and leave ya’ ‘lone. Okay? Listen to me, and listen to me good,” she said holding my face in her hands. “That's my son sure enough, but that's his father's creation. Don't make the same mistake I did. Run. Don't wait on him. He won't change. They'll tell you they will a million times and never will. They just keep feedin’ ya’ lies to tire ya’ out ��til ya’ settle. And once you do that… It only gets worse. So, go up those stairs and get your stuff. When ya’ do, leave and don't eva look back. Ya’ hear me?” she said pulling me into a bear hug.

“And I know you said he isn't hitting you now, but if he's anything like his daddy, it's only a matter of time. Baby, don't even think ‘bout it… Lord… Just don't go back. Promise me that,” she said rocking me back and forth.

4 hours later

“That's it. We're done! Let's go. I'm tired, I'm hungry, and I ain't in the mood. Girl, this was a helluva day,” Shante said walking out the door. I made sure that I had all of my stuff before leaving. I looked down at the set of keys in my hand. His mother was right; this was it. I wasn't turning back. I fumbled with the key ring and removed Terry's house key. I placed it on the kitchen counter. There was no reason to have it because I was NEVER using it again. I turned and began walking out the door locking it from the inside. Closing that door felt like ending an entire chapter of my life.

I walked to the passenger side of the car. Opening the door, I got in and slumped into the seat. “Alright. The hotel is only a thirty-minute drive. Let's go!” Shante said starting the car. Even reversing out of the driveway felt odd. It was as if every move from then on was solidifying just how done I was. Shante drove out of the neighborhood and turned onto the main street. The two-lane boulevard went straight through the center of the small town. I leaned back in the seat and closed my eyes. I was exhausted as hell.

After a few minutes, I felt the car come to a stop. I opened my eyes to see where we were— the town center. It was the only stoplight in the city limits. “The fact that there is only one stoplight is insane,” Shante laughed. “Aww, don't be mean. That's not nice,” I said giggling into my hand.

As we were chatting, the red light changed to green. Shante eased into the intersection. I looked out the window, watching the scenery. It was heartbreaking, to say the least. This was supposed to be the start of my perfect life— small town, family home, a husband, some kids, all of it. It was like I lost it all in a night. My thoughts were drifting to a poisonous place, and I knew if I stayed there too long I wouldn't be able to climb out of that hole as easily. I let my eyes scan the small crowds outside the window. This was a normal Thursday night for everyone else but me.

We were nearing the edge of town and slowly approaching the city limits. All we had to do was get to the highway. This was the first time this drive felt so daunting. It was as if I was being forced to reconcile with every decision I made before today— the good and the bad.

Out the window, I could see the small bar that Terry frequented. It wasn't busy but small groups were still lingering out front. As we grew closer, I noticed Terry's truck parallel-parked out front. Of course, he was there. Where else would he be? This was where he went to run. I leaned my head against the glass. The side of my face flustered from the temperature of the cool glass. As we started to pass the back of Terry's truck, I could see his figure in front of the truck. He was leaning with his back against the hood. I sank back into the seat. I honestly didn't want to see him. I waited until we were completely past the bar before sitting up again. I didn't look back. I kept my eyes glued on the passenger side floorboards. What was the point? I wiped a single tear that was making its way down my face. I breathed out a deep sigh of relief.

What would life have to offer now? Genuine happiness. Healthy and reciprocated love. Self-discovery. Less bad news. Yeah, that's what I pray for— for God to finally give me enough space to breathe and grow.

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[brooklyncircus]

"Until you..." part. 8.

Hiromi Higuruma x reader.

Until you came into his life, Hiromi Higuruma had occasionally considered making a change within himself—mentally, emotionally, and physically—but he had never taken the idea with the seriousness it truly required.

Until you came along.

And now, here he was, tossing and turning in his bed, the blankets strewn about at his feet and tangled between his legs. Low grumbles and muttered curses escaped him as he rubbed his hands over his face, almost violently, and made a faint, barely perceptible pout.

“I just want to sleep. God, please help me sleep…” he whispered under his breath, attempting once more to close his eyes, only to open them twenty-eight seconds later.

He stared up at the ceiling, once again thinking about how, indeed, your presence had changed so much in him. So much so that he was making a mental list of the things he considered wrong in his life and that he might change.

But part of him thought this whole situation was rather ridiculous and amusing. Who would have thought he’d be planning to alter his routine, his habits, his surroundings, even himself... just because he’d met you?

But it wasn’t a joke, not in the slightest. In fact, he took it as a sign that he should do it. It wasn’t that he thought of you as “ridiculous and amusing.” No.

No.

Not at all. That would be the last thing he’d think. He felt that way about himself—about how he was feeling now and how he wanted to change because of your presence.

Reflecting on it more deeply, something he was reluctant to do out of fear—fear, obviously, of discovering the truth—he realised it was entirely because of you. Thanks to you. Because of you.

For you.

Hiromi had come to realise he had good qualities, clear values, and “positive” things. But putting it all on a scale… What weighed more? His good or bad traits? His good or bad habits? Was he worth it? Could he be “someone important”... to someone?

Could he… be the right man for someone?

For you?

He swallowed and turned over in bed, his charcoal-coloured hair becoming even more dishevelled. He found himself curling up into a small ball, feeling more vulnerable than ever. And, at that moment, two tears escaped his eyes.

“What should I do, God? What do you want me to do?” he thought, his hands covering his eyes, ashamed at the idea of crying again.

And the answer appeared in his mind, clear as the first glimmer of dawn, like a light at the end of a dark tunnel, like a choir of angels in the midst of an infernal storm…

Don’t be afraid. Make the changes you deem necessary. Do it for yourself.

And it was at that moment he opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling—frightened, yet euphoric at the same time. His heart felt as if it were about to leap from his chest. He sat up in bed and then let his legs dangle over the side.

He stood, and with slow but steady steps, turned on the light in the small living room. Rummaging through the papers, he found a small notepad and a pen. “Damn, this is real,” he muttered aloud to himself.

Almost running in his nervousness, he went to the table and sat at the edge. With trembling hands, he wrote:

“Things I want to change about myself.”

And he felt that his world, in that very moment, had indeed changed. He had taken the first step. Thanks to you. Thanks to your existence. He found himself writing item after item, planning everything, and his trembling gradually subsided.

Another list. “Things I want to change about my flat.”

Yet another. “Things I want to change about my office.”

“Things I want to learn.”

“Things I want to do.”

“Things I want to improve in.”

And from the early hours of dawn, where the stars adorned the beautiful night sky, to when the first rays of sunlight began to seep through the windows, Hiromi Higuruma was planning, researching, and making changes.

When he finished, he decided it was finally time to prepare to go to work. And he did so lightly, feeling more at ease with himself. Happy, expectant, with a faint smile.

And until you came into his life, Hiromi Higuruma had occasionally considered making a change within himself—mentally, emotionally, and physically—but he had never taken the idea with the seriousness it truly required.

Until you came along.

[mediocre-shark-tales]

The Debut Part 2

Masterlist

Interviews after the race were the worst part. Riding the high of my debut, I had forgotten how some people would still question me, regardless of how much I’d proven myself on track. Sure enough, an older interviewer wasted no time, diving straight into the skepticism.

“We didn’t see you here on media day. Would you say you weren’t mentally ready, given the backlash online about you stepping in for Lance?” he asked, his tone pointed.

I kept my expression bright, masking the sting behind his words with a smile. “Actually, I don’t mind what people think about me racing. My team requested permission from the FIA to excuse me from media day. I don’t know if it was our preparation yesterday that influenced their decision, but I’ll be here for all the other media days,” I replied confidently.

The reporter’s scowl hinted he’d hoped I’d falter. But he pressed on. “Can you explain why you disappeared from F2, only to suddenly show up in F1?”

Images flashed through my mind—my strong F2 season, the bittersweet moments with my mother, and my decision to leave to be by her side. Without missing a beat, I answered, “As my former team and I have always stated, I left to undergo the training Aston Martin required. Luckily, that timing allowed me to step in strongly for Lance after his accident. I wish him a strong recovery and hope to see him back next season.”

His frown deepened, as though frustrated by my composure. “You do know that no one buys that story, right? Plenty of insiders have come forward with other theories.”

I met his gaze with a smirk, catching him off guard. “I’ve seen those theories, and they’re certainly creative! But they’re reaching. I’d hope my real supporters pay attention to who’s sharing those stories—that alone could answer a lot of questions.” I took a breath, then added smoothly, “I love a bit of chaos as much as the next person, and if it’s at my expense, so be it. But I’ll prove myself on track. I can show you my personality, but if you already dislike me without knowing me, why should I try to change your mind?” I finished, my smile still firmly in place.

Finally, I was given the chance to move on from him, though I knew he wouldn’t be the last disrespectful interviewer I’d face. It was time to lock in and remind myself that I couldn't let their jabs or ignorant questions get under my skin. The media's skepticism would always be there, but I could choose how much of myself I shared with them.

It was time to bring up my walls again, to let the ‘daredevil’ persona I’d honed over the years take the lead. I’d mastered that version of myself—the unshakeable, casually confident, and unflinchingly witty driver who wouldn’t let anyone mess with her head. I was here to race, to show everyone exactly what I could do. And if I had to tune out the noise to keep my focus razor-sharp, then so be it.

Once I escaped the media pen, I heard my name called over the hum of busy teams rushing around. Marcus, who had been quietly with me throughout, looked back first. He turned to me with a reassuring smile. “I’ve got a few more things to wrap up. Once you’re changed and ready, find me in the Aston Martin Hospitality lobby, and we’ll head back to the hotel.” I nodded, watching him leave before turning toward the person calling my name.

It was Franco, of course, his signature smile lighting up his face as he approached with his PR manager in tow. “I was hoping to catch you before you took off,” he said quickly, then hesitated, his expression shifting to one of concern. “I heard what that guy said. Don’t let it get to you. I can’t speak for everyone else, but I know you belong here. After another race weekend or two, I bet you’ll have plenty of drivers on your side—even if I have to convince them myself.”

I returned his smile, touched by the sincerity in his voice, though I noticed something else—an edge to his tone, as if he was frustrated with the others. It felt like he knew something I didn’t, but I didn’t push. We weren’t that close yet, and if there was anything important, I trusted he’d tell me in his own time. For now, I was grateful just to have his support.

“Enough of the tough topics,” Franco said, shifting to a more cheerful tone. “I actually found out we’re on the same flight back to the UK. How about we sit together? I’d really like to get to know you better. It’s nice to have another rookie on the grid, but it would be even better if that rookie became a good friend of mine?”

I smiled, appreciating his honesty, and nodded. “Yeah, I’d love that. Here, let me give you my number so you can text me when you’re in the waiting area. We can meet up and figure out seats then.” As I handed him my phone, I added, “Do you know if any other drivers are on our flight? I’ve never been on one of these shared private charters. To get here, they just had me fly business class.”

Franco chuckled, noticing my nervousness. “Don’t worry, it’s a bit different, but you’ll get used to it. Plus, you’ll have me as your tour guide,” he said with a wink. “I honestly didn’t even check which other drivers were on this flight,” Franco admitted, his eyes glinting with a playful smile. “I just wanted an excuse to see you again.”

I felt a blush creep up at his flirty tone, and I laughed, brushing it off. “Well, you’ve got your excuse,” I replied, meeting his smile with one of my own. “Just don’t go using all your charm on me at once.” He chuckled, clearly enjoying my reaction. “Wouldn’t dream of it. I’m saving some for the flight.”

Two hours later, freshly showered and packed, I made my way down to the hotel lobby. Marcus greeted me with a smile, already waiting with our bags by his side. Soon, we were off in an Uber, navigating the post-Grand Prix traffic around Monza. It didn’t take long before we arrived at the airport, and I gathered my bags, heading toward the entrance.

As I stepped through the doors, my phone buzzed with a new text notification. I pulled it out and smiled when I saw Franco’s name on the screen.

Hey, hermosa. I just got to the waiting area. You’ll find me by the big windows looking out at the planes.

I typed back quickly: Just got here too! I’ll be through security soon and meet you there.

Sliding my phone back into my pocket, I felt a little surge of excitement. After a long day, I couldn’t wait to unwind—and having Franco’s company on the flight would make the trip back a lot more enjoyable.

Security was surprisingly quick this time. Being a Formula 1 driver on a chartered jet with other team members seemed to come with its perks—no endless lines, just a fast check of my bags and a quick scan, and I was through in under five minutes. My larger bags were taken aside to be loaded onto the plane, leaving me with only my small personal bag for the flight.

Fidgeting with my sea turtle necklace, I glanced around the private waiting room, scanning for Franco. The place was buzzing with drivers and managers, some eyeing me with thinly veiled curiosity or judgment. Ignoring the glances, I finally spotted Franco, engrossed in his phone, lounging by the windows as he’d promised.

I walked over, taking a deep breath to steady myself. Franco looked up as I approached, flashing a grin as he moved his bag off the seat in front of him. Gratefully, I slid into the booth across from him, feeling a wave of relief as we exchanged a friendly smile. The tension from the room faded slightly with his friendly demeanor. 

“Finally, thought you’d gotten lost back there,” he teased, sliding his phone into his pocket.

I laughed, shrugging. “I was a little distracted by all the stares,” I admitted, glancing around the room. “Guess they’re not used to new faces—especially mine.”

He nodded sympathetically. “It’s their loss,” he said, shrugging it off. “I get the whole ‘new kid’ vibe too. It’s why I was so keen to talk to you. How are you finding it so far?”

“Intense,” I replied, chuckling. “It’s been a dream come true, obviously. But the media, the judgment, all of it’s been... a lot.”

Franco gave an understanding nod, leaning back in his seat. “Yeah, they don’t really teach you how to handle all this quick enough, do they? I feel like we’re both just tossed in with the sharks and told, ‘Good luck.’” He grinned, then added, “But hey, you killed it today. I heard the team talking about it back there.”

“Thank you,” I said, smiling. “You did too! I mean, holding off my DRS attack for that long? Impressive.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “I was just praying my tires would hold out. Honestly, the whole time I thought, ‘If I screw up, she’s taking my place.’ Guess we’ll just have to keep each other sharp, yeah?”

“Deal,” I agreed, feeling my nerves ease. “Let’s make a pact—rookie alliance, right? We can look out for each other. Maybe have a few friendly competitions?”

Franco’s eyes lit up. “I like that idea. A little rivalry—who gets the most overtakes, or who makes it into Q3 first?” He paused, then smirked. “Loser buys the winner lunch?”

I grinned, nodding. “Oh, it’s on. And I hope you have an expensive taste, because I’m definitely winning.”

“Confident, huh?” he said with a laugh. “Alright, I’ll see if you can keep up. But really, it’ll be good to have someone who gets it, you know? We rookies have to stick together.”

“Absolutely,” I agreed, feeling genuinely happy. “And hey, here’s to proving everyone wrong.”

Franco raised an imaginary glass. “To that,” he said with a wink.

Our conversation continued for a little while longer until it was finally time to board the plane. 

Franco and I found our own little area, of course it was a group of 4 seats facing each other. I sat across from Franco who watched to see if anyone else might join us. I could see both of the drivers from Mclaren and Mercedes. Of course there is also Alex and Fernando from our teams as well. 

As we settled into our seats, Franco glanced around the cabin, nodding toward the familiar faces. “Feels like a reunion of sorts,” he murmured, leaning back with a grin. “Wonder who’ll join us in our little corner of the plane here.”

I chuckled, glancing over to the other drivers too. “Honestly, it’s kind of surreal to be surrounded by them. Like, I grew up watching half of these guys race. Now here I am, sharing a plane with them.”

Franco smirked, lowering his voice. “You’re handling it well, though. Can’t even tell you’re fangirling inside.”

I playfully kicked his foot under the table. “Oh, please. You were the one practically glowing when Lewis said you defended well today.”

He laughed, holding up his hands in surrender. “Guilty as charged. But, hey, Lewis Hamilton is still a legend, no matter how chill he tries to be.”

Just then, I noticed Alex approaching with a water bottle. He paused, giving us both a slight nod. “Mind if I join?” he asked, glancing between us with a polite smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Franco shot me a quick look, as if to say, Is this okay? I nodded with a smile. “Of course, take a seat! We were just… rehashing the race,” I added with a laugh.

Alex slid into the seat next to Franco, giving a faint smile but avoiding my gaze just a bit. “You two held up the midfield well today. Gave the crowd something to watch.”

“Trying to make our rookie debuts memorable,” Franco said, shrugging but smiling.

Alex nodded, a little more reserved. “Good mindset to have. Just remember it’s a marathon, not a sprint. A few strong races don’t make a season. You’ve gotta keep that consistency.”

I leaned forward, intrigued despite his slightly distant tone. “How do you manage that? I mean, all the pressure, the criticism… how do you stay grounded?”

Alex glanced briefly at me, as if weighing his answer. “Honestly? You’ve gotta tune it out. Find people who believe in you—team, family, friends—and hold onto them. The rest? Noise.”

Franco nodded, clearly taking it all in. “Noted. I think we’re off to a good start, though, right?” He shot me a grin, his confidence unmistakable.

I smiled back, feeling a little reassured, though Alex's slight hesitation hadn’t gone unnoticed. “Definitely. And having each other’s backs just makes it easier.”

Alex gave a quick nod, looking out the window. “Yeah… it’ll help to know who’s really there for you.” His words felt weighted, leaving me with a feeling that maybe not everyone was convinced I belonged here—yet.

Hours passed as the plane hummed softly around us, and eventually, the lights dimmed, casting a warm, quiet glow across the cabin. Franco had fallen asleep, his head tilted slightly back, arms crossed. Across from us, most of the drivers had either slipped on sleep masks or simply leaned back, eyes shut, lost in much-needed rest.

But sleep evaded me. I leaned my head against the window, earbuds in, playing one of my favorite playlists on low volume. The familiar songs were meant to be comforting, but my mind raced far too much to relax. I glanced at Franco, then Alex, even Fernando a few seats away, all peacefully asleep. They seemed… unburdened, or at least at ease in a way I hadn’t felt since I first entered this chaotic world.

My thoughts drifted back to the interactions I’d had with some of the drivers over the past few days. The way Alex seemed hesitant earlier, the awkward silences in the paddock, the way some of the others had yet to fully acknowledge me. It wasn’t overt; most people were polite, but something lingered under the surface, a guardedness. And I had a sinking feeling I knew why.

I clutched the pendant of my necklace, my thumb running over the little sea turtle. If only they knew the truth, I thought bitterly. If they understood why I’d left my F2 team so suddenly, maybe they wouldn’t look at me like some sort of imposter who had jumped into F1 overnight.

But that truth—the time I spent away, the weeks I’d missed—wasn’t something I could just blurt out. It was private, a chapter of my life I’d had to keep from everyone. I had left F2 mid-season, not for any lack of commitment or a mysterious “training opportunity” as the media had said, but because I couldn’t bear to be anywhere else but by my mother’s side in her last days.

She’d kept her illness a secret from everyone except those closest to us, not wanting the world to see her in her most vulnerable moments. And I had honored that, staying silent even as the rumors spread that I’d gone MIA. That I’d given up. Or that maybe I just couldn’t handle the competition and pressure. My team had tried to cover for me, but the whispers had taken on a life of their own. It was strange; the further I pushed ahead, the more those rumors seemed to haunt me.

I sighed, leaning back in my seat and turning up the volume slightly, letting the music drown out the dull ache in my chest. Maybe they’ll see who I really am in time, I told myself. Maybe the track will speak for me, louder than any rumor. But part of me wondered if it would ever be enough. If, someday, they’d realize why I’d fought so hard to get here and just how much I’d given up to be in this seat.

With one last glance around the cabin, I took a shaky breath, steeling myself. I had a lot to prove—not just for me, but for my mother, who had believed in me until the very end.

[stayevildarling]

Wilhemina Venable x Cordelia Goode x Reader- Unspoken Wars

A/N: I‘m still working on the Agatha fic so I whipped up a quick one while I was at work earlier. Read with care pls🤍

tw/tags: established relationship, poly relationship, female reader, mental health, mention of working out, mild mention of depression/anxiety, mild mention of self harm (mild), mention of bruises, mild mention of politics

word count: 3.5k

taglist:

@lunaticwhittaker , @billiebeanhoward , @lanawinters-ily , @kenzbro , @minaslittleone , @httpfiftyshadesofgay @whitelotus00 , @ninaahelvar , @paulsonsratched , @vintagepaulson , @isle-of-earle , @grilledcheeseandguavajelly , @lucyintheskywithxanax , @fanfics4world , @mymiraclewitch , @hazard-to-myself , @awritersometimes , @wastdstime , @p1pecleanerwitheyes , @queen2234 , @ihartnat , @lifebyinez , @ahsatanizgay , @blu3dimples, @stepintomyworld

It started slowly but suddenly at the same time, a raging storm igniting within you and dragging you down. The world made you angry, not being able to see it‘s beauty as everything annoyed you, everything exhausted you in a way it hadn‘t before. Living at the academy with your two girlfriends, constantly surrounded by safety and witchcraft, you never really questioned the outside world too much, living in your own little bubble but lately it had upset you.

It was election night when everything changed, the three of you sitting on the sofa while anxiously glancing at the TV and when red overshadowed the screen, something within you burst. You stayed beside Cordelia who‘s anxiety grew ahead of her as you soothed her gently, calming Wilhemina as all sorts of words that she didn‘t usually use leave her mouth. All the hatred and annoyance steaming off like that. And while they coped in their own way, their healthy ways of finding comfort in each other, you chose a different way. Your entire life had been overshadowed by this, the news, your phone and social media constantly reminding you what they had taken from you, your girlfriends and ultimately most women in the place you had called home forever.

You couldn‘t help yourself, finding sudden comfort in the thought of letting your anger out in a healthy way or so you thought. You had taken up running again, something you had been far to busy and lazy for in the past few years, your stamina questionable. And so you decided to take up swimming too, using the gym closeby to do some weights and boxing. And it all came so suddenly that you never really realized how much you are overdoing it. But of course your girlfriends noticed. How usually you would spend your days at the academy, despite not having any witch powers, helping out all the time. You would make their lunches, do some paperwork with the supreme and help her prepare for classes. Doing the housework and making sure your girlfriends have a warm cooked meal once they are home.

And Cordelia was the first to notice, her eyebrows furrowing when the spot beside them was empty early in the mornings, finding you in the kitchen in some workout clothes, while chugging a smoothie. She didn‘t think much of it at first, having seen you go on the occasional run over the years. But then came the couple of evenings when you would be gone, quickly mumbling something about the gym and then you‘d be gone for hours, returning with wet hair from swimming, returning with the occasional bruises on your knuckles. Wilhemina didn‘t take very long to notice either, her often the one holding your hands and noticing the blue and purple lingering reminders of your pain as well as the occasional shaking when holding you in her arms, a result of overdoing it and also not fueling your body enough.

Both of them had tried a couple of times, feeling your absence both physically and emotionally, never really truly there or engaged in a conversation, your mind always seemingly miles away. And they noticed the anger in your eyes, a mix of sadness and the desire to burn down the entire world around you, something they had never seen before. As if that one night had completely taken your sunshine away, the depths and beauty in your eyes, the love for them. They both knew your love never faded, two packed lunches always prepared in the mornings, Mina‘s evening baths always drawn by you and a home cooked meal always waiting for them, just the absence of their sunshine there at times. And they missed you, miss holding you close to their chests and heart, whispered love confessions and a hand softly lingering on you somewhere.

They had tried for a while but you never opened up, always mumbling some excuse about wanting to get fitter, not having done enough lately but they could feel the lie, Delia not needing any magic to know as much. And then it all started crashing down, skipping meals, only joining them in bed late at night when they are already asleep, not wanting the questions and to explain yourself. Everything became too much, the anger from the outside world, the state of the chaos inside you. But you couldn‘t help yourself, an old friend having greeted you again recently and you should have known that was the sign to get help, that this wasn‘t normal or healthy. But you couldn‘t help yourself when returning home one evening, feeling drained and exhausted as ever, seeing the blade on the sink and taking it into your hands. And you had experience enough to know where to hide them, gracing your skin just near the top of your stomach, underneath your bra, knowing your girlfriends may not notice them this way.

And they almost didn‘t until one day when Mina was making some tea in the kitchen, working from home that day and taking a break. She found you in between a run and going to the gym, her features lighting up as she sees you and the way you hastily brushed a kiss on her cheek. For a moment you remained as she offered you some tea but you politely declined, but you saw the way she struggled to reach the cup on the top shelf, assuming one of the girls had placed it there as you and Cordelia always considered Mina‘s condition when it came to the little things. „Let me“ you offered, going on your tip toes and reaching for the purple mug. She saw them then, angry perfect lines, red. And she didn‘t say anything, thanking you before watching you go, noticing this was much worse than she and Cordelia had initially believed, quickly taking the tea and what she had seen to the supreme‘s office.

„She‘s hurting“ Wilhemina admitted in the quiet safety of her office and Cordelia didn‘t understand at first, assuming it was what they had already discussed countless times. But the redheads face said it all and the supreme sighed then, not an annoyed one, never an annoyed one but a sad one. They decided then and there that they couldn‘t wait any longer, wanting and needing to support you through this, like the countless times you had saved them, been there for them in the bravest and loyal way possible. They opted for the same night, preparing some dinner, opting for a healthy choice, knowing you are working on yourself at the moment. The table is neaty set, it being Friday the Academy silent, the dining table coated in white lit candles, casting a soft glow and the smell of vanilla and Cordelia‘s cooking making for a comfortable atmosphere.

„Darling, we made dinner for you“ Wilhemina explained gently, finding you in the library where you had hidden away for most of the day. „Coming“ you announced with a smile, knowing they had been slowly catching on, knowing you needed to keep your guard up and be careful and at the same time longing for their warmth as you had undeniably missed them so much. Your heart ached for their presences, their quiet comfort and love but you didn‘t know how to ask for, almost feeling awkward and shy in your own home, the walls you had built putting a distance between you that stretched for miles, more miles than you had been running for weeks now.

„Thank you both“ you smile as you step into the kitchen and find the neatly set table in front of you. Cordelia smiles warmly as her hand travels to your shoulder and your heart aches then, the feeling almost unfamiliar now. She serves you up a small portion and your eyes find hers thankfully, knowing why she had chosen what she chose to make tonight. The two of them begin gentle conversation about their days, letting you ease into it as Wilhemina talks about some projects at work, some office gossip and Cordelia fills you both in on the students and what they had been up to. You don‘t really have much to share and so you just sit and listen, occasionally engaging with them, suddenly wanting to know how they had been feeling, realizing you had been selfish with your actions.

After dinner, the three of you ease into more quiet conversation over tea and as Cordelia wraps her hands around the warm mug, the steam drawing patterns into the air, they silently communicate, knowing it‘s now or never. „Little one?“ Mina asks as you blow against the warm tea, meeting her eyes. „We have been meaning to talk to you“ she begins and Cordelia instantly notices your stiffening, how you seem guarded within an instant. „How‘s the working out been going?“ the supreme asks gently and you simply shrug your shoulders before mumbling a quiet „Good“. You didn‘t want to be the center of the conversation, the cause for their furrowed brows and concerned faces. „Do you think it may be a bit much? we rarely see you these days“ she tries, tilting her head a little as if her eyes could get through to you.

But you tense further, remaining silent as you don‘t know what to say, knowing they are right of course but your walls too high to let them in. „Little one, I know you don‘t wanna talk about this but we are worried“ Wilhemina tries, usually never the one to push but unable to keep her concern at bay any longer“. You tense, looking between their brown eyes before you sigh. „I‘m fine Mina“ you try but they aren‘t convinced. There is silence as Wilhemina accepts defeat, realizing when it comes to this you are just as closed off as she is at times but Cordelia can‘t back down, not just yet. „Darling, we‘ve seen the scars, we know you are struggling and we just want to help you“. And while Wilhemina‘s eyes widen, knowing this would drive you further away, you struggle to keep your emotions at bay.

For a split second, you almost faltered, almost accepted their help as you almost fell apart but instead you got up from your chair „Thank you for dinner, I have a class at gym“ you lie, leaving them be as you grab your gym bag by the front door and leave. Wilhemina sighs as the door shuts, not blaming Cordelia but hating the fact that you wouldn‘t let them in. And while they struggled with their concern and how to help you, you ran to the nearby gym, not bothering to put your stuff away as you repeatedly hit the punching bag, over and over again, not bothering with the usual bandages or gloves, completely losing yourself in your emotions as both anger and sadness wash over you, tears streaming down your cheeks as the loud music blasts through your headphones.

„It‘s since the election“ Wilhemina remembers as she stays in the same spot with her girlfriend, their teas having gone cold by now. „I know“ the blonde sighs, the subject having crossed her mind and came up in conversation with her girls for weeks now. „I mean I understand, she‘s young, she‘s a girl and I can‘t begin to understand how much she must struggle with it“ the supreme sighs, knowing her and Wilhemina could deal with these things differently, having went through similar things in their lifetime before. „I don‘t know what to do“ Wilhemina admits with a sigh and the supreme meets her eyes then, raw and vulnerable, knowing those words never usually left the redheads mouth, always the calm and composed one, always a solution at hand. The supreme sighs in defeat, just as lost and helpless as the redhead as they sit in the silence of the dining room, usually filled with yours and their laughter on quiet evenings like these.

Meanwhile you break down completely, all the pain, anger and sadness hitting you all at once as you lose yourself in the workout, punching the bag for hours. By the time you get home you are drenched from rain, mixing with your sweat and tears, not noticing the blurriness of your vision, the blood and bruises forming on your wrists. Cordelia and Wilhemina have withdrawn to the comfort of the sofa by now, the fireplace soothing the coldness they are feeling in their hearts and bones. When they hear the door, their eyes travel towards the hallway, listening to the thump from your bag and shoes. They expect you to head in the kitchen and get a smoothie like you usually do, brush past them with a quick hello before heading in the shower. But you remain in the hallway for a while, trying to catch your breath.

And when you finally step further, you stand there for a moment, watching them together on the sofa, neither of them having seen you as you had arrived so silently. „Mina? Delia?“ you whisper with the last bits of your strength and when they see you standing there, bruised and bloody, tears in your eyes and a guilty expression on your face, it breaks their hearts. „Oh god“ Cordelia whispers as she is instantly by your side, taking your hands into her own as she inspects the state of your injuries. Wilhemina watches in pain as the supreme takes you into the kitchen, hovering nearby as some hope flickers across her features, hoping this may finally be where you let them in.

The supreme takes care of your knuckles with gentle hands as she cleans them, wrapping them in some bandages before kissing them better. She leads you upstairs, soothing you into a warm bath after getting some water into your body and encouraging you to drink up. She washes you gently, ridding your body of the exhaustion and lingering marks, dressing you in some comfortable clothes before sitting you on the bed to get you some tea. Your heart swells at every touch, every encouraging statement and the way she cared for you, a way you hadn‘t let them care for you in a long time. Wilhemina sits on the bed, leaning against the headframe as she watches you, shivering a little. She wants to reach out, hold you but she fears your reaction. But before she can overthink it further, your eyes meet hers, pleading.

And she doesn‘t understand straight away, watching as you crawl to her, slowly and vulnerable, guilty. But before she can encourage you, you move into her arms, letting them wrap around you as she holds you close to her chest. Her eyes close, both in relief and pain, seeing you so broken and sad in a way she never had before. „I‘m sorry“ you whisper against her as she holds you impossiblly closer, scared you would slip her grasp again. „Shh little one, it‘s okay“ she whispers, her lips moving to your temple and pressing a gentle kiss against it. „It‘s all okay now“ she reassures, letting you cry it out, letting the tears flow and the sobs wreck your body as you had let out all the anger beforehand, only feeling the sadness and loneliness taking over you now.

When Cordelia returns with some tea, her features crumble, finally seeing you in the arms of her lover again, shaking and crying. „Oh darling“ she coos, setting the tea down before she sits beside you both, gently running her hands soothingly up and down your back. „I‘m.. so.. sorry“ you sniffle against the redheads chest, the smell of lavendar and vanilla making you feel right at home. „Don‘t be sorry darling“ Cordelia coos as she gently wipes your tears. „I don‘t know what happened“ you admit and they both know you are referring to the last few weeks. „The whole thing just made me so angry.. why do they decide to take our rights? everything we have fought so hard for“ you sigh and they nod, understanding the feeling and how much that must be for you, considering the circumstances.

„I know sweetie“ Cordelia whispers as Wilhemina instinctively holds you closer to her chest. „And I know I can‘t make this go away but we‘re here okay? always“ she reassures and you nod as you lock eyes with the blonde. Wilhemina tilts her head a little in order to look at you „Listen little one, I think this is good, working on yourself and not letting the anger and feelings win but you need to be gentle with yourself, take this slow and take care of yourself“ she speaks, her voice soft despite the urgency behind her statement. You glance at them both, seeing their love and concern, knowing they are right and feeling much more calm with having them know, the walls between the three of you broken, the initial trust back and causing your anxiety to finally ease.

You realize then that you are safe with them and despite neither of them able to fix the world, right there by your side to take care of you and to guide you through the world despite what it may be filled with. And the realisation mixed with your evening before, suddenly makes you incredibly tired. A kind of sleepy that you hadn‘t felt in a while, feeling fully relaxed in Wilhemina‘s arm and holding Cordelia‘s hand. And they don‘t notice at first, continuing to soothe and give you advice to guide you through this until Wilhemina softly nudges Cordelia who had been rambling with ideas and suggestions. And when the supreme notices you sleeping in the redheads arms, so safe and comfortable, even a content smile on your face, she can‘t help but smile proudly, knowing this was far from over, knowing there needed to be conversations held but knowing for now, nothing and no one, not even yourself can hurt you any longer, not as long as you are safe and comfortable in their arms, surrounded by their love and unconditional support, always.

[bungee-gum-b1tch]

mayhaps i have acquired a new hyperfixation

[lokh]

fastest way to piss me off is to try and add something to a task im in the middle of doing because 'youre already doing it so this shouldnt be extra work tee hee' THATS NOT HOW THIS WORKS

[politemagic]

eepy bois & their tamagotchis

i was having fun perusing this site & decided that they needed a tamagotchi to care for on tour.

[asinglesock]

Also it feels so good to be taking classes again even though the subject is human development and at-home care instead of literature or religion. I'm nervous about the practical skills exams, especially for very personal tasks, but I'm just going to do my best and leave it at that.

[caffeinatedopossum]

Ok so apparently it's not normal that whenever someone goes to a restaurant and I'm with them, I expect them to get just themselves food and then we leave. Like if you get me food or ask if I want anything I will in fact look at you like you're a stranger who just walked up and offered me a 100 dollar bill

[sydmarch]

spent months like I need prescription for my mental health give me prescription please please & now that I have it I'm like hm. do I want to have to take meds, actually

[desastre-fag]

i love that i gaslight myself when my feelings get hurt. im like no you are being a major pussy right now !!! instead of just being like ok yea that hurt my feelings and im allowed to feel that way.

[dredshirtroberts]

yeah guys idk I'm just thinking maybe the lightheadedness and desire to sit down about halfway through putting away groceries my whole life might not have just been a reaction to the way my parents were when i was a kid and the accompanying anxiety and sudden flurry of movement, but also possibly maybe i have a Health Thing about this...

[corset]

My aunt fucking ruined everything I was going to be FINE and then right after I explicitly told her to leave me alone today because I need space because I am extremely sensitive and physically suffering/in a lot of pain, right after I signaled very obviously that I just need a little bit of patience, she chooses THIS MORNING of all mornings to snap at me about hurrying up in the most smug and fucking aggressive tone of voice she has! The exact one she has used on me for years when I’m in trouble and she wants to talk down at me about it! And now I can’t go to work because she couldn’t wait two fucking seconds and give me a little more patience today INSTEAD OF LESS after I explicitly asked for it and I had a meltdown!!!!!!!!!! Is two fucking minutes on the clock more important to you than me!!!! Is it that important!!!!!! I’m so fucking angry I could scream

[michi-chelle-draws]

inkuary 2023 - day 1 : happy new year ✨ thank you for your support!

[superfluouskeys]

godddddd wasting time and energy on things that don't fucking matter has got to be THE worst feeling