#dry eye diagnosis

[tatumeyecare]

Best Eye Doctor in Phoenix, Arizona: Your Guide to Top-notch Eye Care

Welcome to the sunny and vibrant city of Phoenix, Arizona, where eye care is of paramount importance. Your vision is precious, and finding the best eye doctor is crucial to maintaining it. In this article, we will walk you through the journey of selecting the best eye doctor in Phoenix, Arizona, providing you with all the information you need to make an informed decision. From understanding the importance of regular eye check-ups to addressing common eye concerns, we've got you covered.

Best Eye Doctor in Phoenix, Arizona

When it comes to your vision, you deserve nothing but the best. The best eye doctor in Phoenix, Arizona is a highly skilled professional who can diagnose and treat a wide range of eye conditions. Here are some key factors to consider when searching for the perfect eye care specialist:

Credentials Matter

The first step in your search for the best eye doctor is to check their credentials. Ensure that the doctor is board-certified and has the necessary licenses and certifications. This guarantees that they have received the proper training and have met the highest standards of eye care.

Experience Counts

Experience is a crucial factor in choosing an eye doctor. Look for a specialist who has a wealth of experience in treating various eye conditions. Seasoned eye doctors are often better equipped to handle complex cases and provide effective solutions.

Patient Reviews and Recommendations

One of the most reliable ways to gauge the quality of an eye doctor is by reading patient reviews and seeking recommendations from friends and family. Positive reviews and personal referrals can provide valuable insights into the doctor's skills and bedside manner.

Range of Services

The best eye doctor in Phoenix, Arizona should offer a comprehensive range of services, from routine eye exams to advanced treatments and surgeries. Having a wide spectrum of services available ensures that all your eye care needs are met under one roof.

State-of-the-Art Technology

In the ever-advancing field of eye care, technology plays a pivotal role. Ensure that your chosen eye doctor utilizes state-of-the-art equipment and cutting-edge techniques to provide the best possible care.

Location and Accessibility

Consider the location and accessibility of the eye clinic. Opt for a convenient location that allows you to access care without undue hassle. Additionally, check for flexible appointment schedules to accommodate your busy life.

Insurance Compatibility

Before making a decision, verify whether the eye doctor accepts your insurance. This will help you avoid unexpected expenses and ensure that your eye care is covered.

Personal Comfort

Lastly, trust your instincts. Visit the clinic, meet the doctor, and assess your level of comfort. A warm and welcoming atmosphere, along with a compassionate and attentive staff, can make your eye care experience truly exceptional.

FAQs

Can I book an eye appointment online?

Absolutely! Many best eye doctors in Phoenix, Arizona offer online appointment booking for your convenience. Visit their websites to schedule your appointment with ease.

How often should I have my eyes checked?

For most individuals, an annual eye exam is sufficient. However, if you have pre-existing eye conditions or are at a higher risk of eye diseases, your doctor may recommend more frequent check-ups.

What should I expect during an eye exam?

During an eye exam, your doctor will evaluate your vision, check for refractive errors, assess eye muscle coordination, and examine the health of your eyes. It's a painless process that helps identify any issues early on.

Are there any lifestyle changes to improve eye health?

Yes, maintaining a healthy lifestyle can benefit your eye health. Eating a balanced diet rich in vitamins and minerals, protecting your eyes from UV rays, and avoiding excessive screen time can all contribute to better vision.

Can eye doctors treat eye allergies?

Yes, eye doctors can diagnose and treat eye allergies. They may recommend eye drops, antihistamines, or other treatments to alleviate your symptoms and provide relief.

What should I do in case of an eye emergency?

In case of an eye emergency, such as an injury or sudden vision loss, seek immediate medical attention. Call your eye doctor or visit the nearest emergency room for prompt care.

Your vision is irreplaceable, and choosing the best eye doctor in Phoenix, Arizona is a decision that should not be taken lightly. By considering their credentials, experience, patient reviews, services, technology, location, insurance compatibility, and your personal comfort, you can make an informed choice for your eye care needs.

Remember that regular eye check-ups are essential for maintaining good eye health. Book your appointment with the best eye doctor in Phoenix, Arizona, and ensure that your vision remains crystal clear for years to come.

Tatum Eyecare is North Phoenix’s premier family eye care center. We’ve spared no expense to create the most pleasant, comfortable patient experience… including the finest furnishings, the best selection of prescription eyeglass frames, the most cutting-edge technology, and the most outstanding team of industry professionals. Come see why the choice for family eye care in the Valley has never been clearer.

[bhartieyefoundation]

Dry Eyes - Diagnosis & Treatment

Introduction

Dry eyes can be a bothersome condition that affects millions of people worldwide. It happens when your eyes do not generate enough tears or when the tears evaporate too soon.. If you're experiencing dry eyes, it's essential to seek proper diagnosis and treatment to alleviate your discomfort and prevent further complications. At Bharti Eye Foundation, we specialize in diagnosing and treating dry eyes, providing comprehensive care to ensure optimal eye health.

Understanding Dry Eyes

Before we dive into the diagnosis and treatment of dry eyes at Bharti Eye Foundation, let's explore the condition in more detail. Dry eyes occur when your tear glands don't produce enough tears or when the quality of your tears is compromised. Tears play a vital role in maintaining the health of your eyes, keeping them lubricated, and protecting them against infections. When your tears are insufficient, it can lead to uncomfortable symptoms, such as:

Persistent dryness

Grittiness or a sandy sensation

Irritation and redness

Sensitivity to light

Blurred vision

Dry Eyes - Diagnosis at Bharti Eye Foundation

At Bharti Eye Foundation, our experienced ophthalmologists employ advanced diagnostic techniques to accurately assess and diagnose dry eyes. When you visit our clinic with dry eye symptoms, our experts will conduct a thorough evaluation to determine the underlying cause and severity of your condition. Some of the diagnostic tests commonly used at Bharti Eye Foundation include:

Tear Film Break-up Time (TBUT)

TBUT is a simple and painless test that measures the stability of your tear film. During the test, a special dye is applied to the surface of your eyes, and the time it takes for the tear film to break up is measured. A shorter TBUT indicates a compromised tear film, which is indicative of dry eyes.

Schirmer's Test

The Schirmer's test measures the quantity of tears your eyes produce. It involves placing a thin strip of filter paper inside your lower eyelid to absorb the tears. After a few minutes, the length of the wet portion of the paper is measured. A shorter wet portion suggests reduced tear production, pointing to dry eyes.

Ocular Surface Staining

Ocular surface staining involves using special dyes, such as fluorescein, to evaluate the integrity of your cornea and conjunctiva. By examining the stained areas under a microscope, our ophthalmologists can identify any damage or irregularities caused by dry eyes.

Dry Eyes - Treatment at Bharti Eye Foundation

Once a proper diagnosis has been made, the expert team at Bharti Eye Foundation will create a personalized treatment plan tailored to your specific needs. Our goal is to alleviate your symptoms, improve the quality of your tears, and restore the health of your eyes. Here are some of the treatment options available at Bharti Eye Foundation for dry eyes:

Artificial Tears

Artificial tears are over-the-counter eye drops that mimic the composition of natural tears. They provide temporary relief from dry eye symptoms by lubricating the eyes and moisturizing the ocular surface. Our ophthalmologists will guide you in selecting the most suitable artificial tears for your condition.

Prescription Eye Drops

In some cases, over-the-counter artificial tears may not be sufficient to alleviate dry eye symptoms. Our ophthalmologists may prescribe medicated eye drops that help reduce inflammation, stimulate tear production, or control the oiliness of the tear film. These prescription eye drops provide targeted relief for moderate to severe dry eyes.

Punctal Plugs

Punctal plugs are small, biocompatible devices that are put into tear ducts to prevent tear leakage.. By blocking tear drainage, punctal plugs help keep the tears on the ocular surface for a more extended period, reducing dryness and improving symptoms. Our ophthalmologists will determine whether punctal plugs are a suitable option for you.

Meibomian Gland Expression

The meibomian glands are responsible for producing the oily component of tears, which helps prevent evaporation. In some cases of dry eyes, the meibomian glands may become clogged or dysfunctional, leading to increased tear evaporation. At Bharti Eye Foundation, our experts perform meibomian gland expression to clear any blockages and restore proper gland function.

FAQs

Q: Can dry eyes be cured completely?

Dry eyes cannot always be cured completely, but proper diagnosis and treatment can significantly alleviate symptoms and improve the overall health of your eyes.

Q: Are there any lifestyle changes that can help manage dry eyes?

Yes, there are lifestyle changes that can help manage dry eyes. These include avoiding environments with excessive wind or dry air, taking regular breaks from screens, using a humidifier, and staying hydrated.

Q: Can dry eyes lead to vision loss?

While dry eyes can cause discomfort and vision fluctuations, it is rare for it to cause permanent vision loss. Seeking prompt diagnosis and treatment can help prevent any potential complications.

Q: Can dry eyes be a side effect of certain medications?

Yes, certain medications can contribute to dry eyes as a side effect. These include antihistamines, decongestants, hormone replacement therapy, and medications for high blood pressure and acne. If you suspect your medications are causing dry eyes, consult with your healthcare provider.

Q: Can dry eyes affect contact lens wearers?

Yes, dry eyes can pose challenges for contact lens wearers. If you experience discomfort while wearing contact lenses, it's important to consult with an eye care professional who can recommend suitable solutions, such as different lens materials or lubricating drops.

Q: How often should I visit Bharti Eye Foundation for dry eye management?

The frequency of your visits to Bharti Eye Foundation will depend on the severity of your dry eyes and your response to treatment. Our ophthalmologists will provide guidance on follow-up appointments and monitoring your progress.

Conclusion

Dry eyes can be a persistent and uncomfortable condition, but with the right diagnosis and treatment, you can find relief and improve the health of your eyes. Bharti Eye Foundation offers expert care and comprehensive solutions for dry eyes, ensuring personalized treatment plans to meet your unique needs. By seeking professional help, you can regain comfort and protect your vision. Don't let dry eyes hold you back; schedule an appointment at Bharti Eye Foundation today.

Our Best Eye Surgeries in Delhi include:

Refractive SurgeryCataract SurgeryContact LensLaser Cataract SurgeryRetina SurgeryGlaucoma TreatmentPhacoemulsification SurgerySmile Eye SurgeryLasik Eye SurgerySquint TreatmentCornea TransplantPediatric OphthalmologyOculoplasty And Aesthetic

Visit our Website:  Bharti Eye Foundation

[ramonathinks]

RAISE THE STAKES.

being a therapist was hard enough without the leader of an infamous group becoming your patient or to answer your questions, sylus has a few requests.

(18+, no minors! no blank accounts!) inappropriate relationships, patient!slyus, therapist!reader, munch slyus, oral and female masturbation, slight pussy inspection, dirty talk. exhibitionism, dry humping, word count: 3k... short and sweet

tagging: @xmiisuki @sunasbon @sugugasm <3

There was something clinical and plain about your office — though technically you were a type of doctor — the decor screamed hospital more than a comfortable place to tell your deepest darkest secrets. Faint pale blue walls with littered old stickers from the previous child therapist and even the stench of crayons … not to mention the floor tiles, squared with an iced blue paint that made the room both childish and clinical. Something fitting for a child hospital or even a former child psych ward.

That was the reason you decided for this particular appointment you’d switch rooms to somewhere more adult and that hopefully your boss would let you stay there. The pristine polished marble floors and white walls, two empty lush chairs and a small brown wooden table with magazines with two waters sitting on top. This was your dream room and one you felt you deserved. You were the most decorated person on your floor — top of your class in your undergrad and graduate class, internships at major places, yet you settled for here. Settled. It was smack dabbed in the middle of a city that needed you most. A dangerous city… but somewhere you felt like you could actually make a difference. 

Sitting in the chair towards the window you awaited for Sylus Qin – a name that sent more than enough shivers up your spine but who’s name spiked your curiosity, especially seeing it written for a first appointment directly with you. 

He walked in, his presence loud and alarming from the moment he stepped into the door, looking at you before he sat down in the seat closest to the door. You inhaled, the deep smell of metallic and what you must’ve guessed was gunpowder filled your nostrils. “You’re late,” You told him with a small smile. “And for your first appointment nevertheless.” Your tone is light and playful, you only hoped that he understood that. 

He arches a white brow and slouches back on the couch, it was obviously too small for his broad body and long legs but he still stretched them so they were nearing yours. “A meeting held me up.” He waited for some form of reaction before he looked away from you, probably now disappointed when your face remained blank.

You cleared your throat, “I’m quite sure that you didn’t come here on your own volition, so why are you here? I know that you of all people couldn’t have been forced.” You crossed your legs, watching his eyes glance at them.

“Two nuisances…” He grumbles, his face scrunched into a deadly scowl but his crimson eyes remain gentle as he looks at you. “It seems that I’ve been even more aggressive as of late.” He shrugs his shoulders as if he disagrees with the diagnosis. 

“Well… what made them come to that conclusion?” You watched him open his mouth to answer before he paused, thinking something. It takes a while before he speaks again and when he does he shocks you.

“What do I get if I answer any of your silly little questions…?” There’s a huskiness to his voice, a rough edge as he speaks. His eyes are trained on you, following you as your body sways a bit. 

You quirk a brow, “You want a reward for being…compliant?” You straighten your posture, looking at him with slightly wide eyes, it was the first time someone asked for something so ridiculous. “You tell me what you want—” You start before he interrupts you.

“Your panties.” Curt. Simple. Straightforward. You blinked, staring at this man and questioning how you managed to get yourself in this position. 

 Was the money worth it? That was the question roaming around your head as you just stared at him. How could he ask you such a thing with a serious face expression. “My panties? That would tempt you to answer the questions truthfully?” The skirt you were wearing felt a thousand times shorter and the room felt too warm for you to ignore the wetness you felt between your —

Your eyes twitched. A conversation alone, brief… and your panties were drenched, sticky to your folds. It would do wonders for your career to have gotten the man himself… the big leader of a malicious group to be less violence. So you sigh, “You want them now—”

“As an act of good faith,” He says smoothly. “Let’s put all our cards out on the table…How about you at least take them off so I know you’re being truthful to me.” 

You sucked your teeth, debating with yourself on if you really should do this or not. Your career is on the line regardless of each decision. You could just deny him, tell him off and force him out of your office. But your body seemed to be screaming at you to just do it. You hadn’t had sex nor a true orgasm in more than a year… possibly two and yet with him sitting in front of you, you felt as if you were close.

Your mouth no longer produces saliva and your throat dry as you slide them down your legs; you held them and watched a smirk take over his face. You couldn’t believe yourself honestly, this wasn’t something you’d ever expect yourself to do. While you weren’t exactly a good girl, you had standards… you couldn’t believe you were being so trashy. Yet the excitement in your body spilled out of your center and with his eyes glued there while you removed your underwear, your body shook.

“Already the air smells so better in here.” He chuckles and you feel embarrassment cloud your mind. “To answer your question from before… Apparently they believe I’m in a foul mood since I’ve been less tolerant on certain things that in the past, I was more passive on. They’ve expressed to me that with the rough ways I’ve been handling business has grown rather…impulsive.”

“Do you agree with that?” You recross your legs. “I’ve always heard that you were impulsive and honestly, I never heard anyone say you were passive… Do you think you’ve ever been passive? Do you think you can paint me a picture of yourself?”

He reaches out his hand and for a moment you’re confused before you realize he’s asking for his reward. Handing him the panties, you see him sniff them and it makes your insides quiver. This man… he was too much for you. 

“I see myself as…” He thinks, his eyebrows furrowed, he taps his foot on the ground. “I often find myself bored and find myself indulging in self destructive behavior... taking on more than I can and getting myself injured.” He scoffs. “I guess this particular time they're talking about is when I knew I was being set up but still decided to go alone without informing them - Luke and Kieran, I mean.”

“So they care about you?” You ask, mentally taking notes of every word and ever ounce of movement and even taking account of his voice and tone.

“Sure.” His voice has a slight tremble to it. “We’ve been together for longer than I can remember being without them…” Then he’s closed off again, acting as if he revealed too much to you. His crimson eyes trace up your legs again, he bites his lips.

You recrossed your legs. “Anyway…” You cough. “Is there a thrill in putting yourself in these situations? Or is there a need to demonstrate that your reputation is correct… to stop or limit people from defying you?” You are met with silence and a sinister glint in Sylus’ eyes. “Sylus? Do you need me to repeat the question?”

“I answered some for your panties. For this next question, you’ll have to do something else for me to answer it… unless you want a lie…or more silence.” His roaming eyes told you all that you needed to know, this request would be more.

A scowl on your face, “My panties weren’t enough?” You’re close to rolling your eyes at him, you want to hate him but it’s something in those eyes that keeps you from it. After this you knew that you’d decline any other visits from him, you might as well entertain him— no, you want to slap yourself for even thinking that thought. 

“I wanna see you cum, pet that pretty pussy and put a show on for me.” He says and you gasp, full blown as you stare at him. “C’mon kitten, don’t be so coy.” His eyes darkened but still his tone remained playful; slick gathered at your thighs and it’s almost as if he scented it with how quick his eyes snapped to your skirt.

“Sylus, the panties were already inappropriate enough. I can lose my license—” You stammer, your voice small and timid as you speak. This man… would be the death of you.

“I won’t let that happen.” 

You swallow, staring hard in his eyes. Looking in his eyes made you want to bend to his every whim and to continue. Your thighs spread a bit because honestly, you wanted this. “Fine.” You relinquished every ounce of self respect you had for yourself and spread your legs completely apart. A slap of cool air brushes against your bare skin, your shutter but spread your folds. You rub at your clit, staring in those addicting eyes. 

He drinks in the sight of you — dripping and oozing out spilling to the chair, he straightens himself, his eyes now locked between your thighs. Your clit is hard and throbbing knowing that his eyes are on your most delicate parts. You circle your entrance, collecting the slick that sits there before you dip it inside – teasing both you and him. You feel the warmth of yourself as you stroke your finger in and out of your walls, sloppy noises echoing around the room. Your thighs tremble and breathing heavy, he briefly glances at your face and back to the dripping sight below.  Your face scrunched up in a sense of pure ecstasy, you pop your finger out of your cunt and you put a finger in your mouth before rubbing your clit again, your thighs bucking and your hips humping upwards. 

His feet tap against the floor watching another finger join the one already knuckle deep inside of you, his fingers twitch looking at how wet and creamy your fingers are pumping in and out. “There’s a thrill… and excitement that comes with doing dangerous things…” His voice trails off, your mouth agape spilling little moans. “It feels good… it’s never a sense of pride, it’s more of a –” Using your other hand, you rub fast at your clit at the same time your fingers thrust inside deeper, hitting another spot that makes a bit of cream drip under you. “It’s more of a simple pleasure, just something to take the edge off of life. It’s a high… c’mon kitten, you’re killing me there. Need to see your face when you cum.” 

Your stomach sucks in at the words and you whine, leaking with a deep orgasm and deep breathing. “Ohhhhh!” Cream continues to spill out, you milk yourself more – curling your fingers before you pull them out with a drawn out moan. “Oh, mmm…” You feel so tired, your eyes dropping and a fuzzy brain when you turn your attention back on him. 

“What’s your next request for answering this last question?” You huff, your face flushed and your body trembling. You still tried to cover yourself but he just laughed, full and heartily. 

“I want you to sit on my face.” He’s hard, tapping his foot against the floor again still looking at your creamy pussy. “That’s all.”

“What?” But it shouldn’t surprise you anymore, no matter how much you fought on his demands… you knew you’d give in and you knew how badly you wanted him.

“I want you to sit on my face.” He said again, nonchalantly with a shrug of his shoulders. 

“But… why? Are you trying to make me lose my job? Or are you just insane and don’t care about my livelihood or my dignity?” But really, it didn’t matter, with all you did now… your license was already revoked. 

“Would you rather be a good girl and sit on my lap? Grind yourself on my cock?” It was an enticing offer and you had to mentally stop yourself from taking it up. “Just keep being an obedient little girl like you have been and come sit on my face.” He’s pulling himself from the chair to lie on the floor with a bright smile on his lips. He waited, both of you already knew that you were going to come. 

“First... put your fingers in my mouth.” It makes you jump when he says that but you swallow your nerves and pride, reaching over and letting his tongue work its way through your fingers, his tongue slimy wet and sticky all at once. He groans out at the taste. “Sit.” He says simply. You’d never did this before, your legs trembled just standing above his head and even more when you bent down. 

You hovered over him, a string of your slick dripping over his face before he moved his head to capture it between his tongue with a groan; swirling his tongue in a circular motion as he took in the taste. “So wet…tastes so good.” His voice deep and inviting; sticking his tongue inside then flicks his tongue against your clit and wraps his mouth around it — sucking it before he releases it with a plop sound.  “Sit.” He told you, rubbing his hands across your ass, spreading it so that your pussy would wink at him with a small gushy sound. He firmly sits completely on his face so that his face is covered with you. 

His tongue feels like a thousand tongues when you drip over his face, grinding your hips and circling them. Your knees digging into the floor when you slide forward and back against him.“Sy–lus!” The pad of his tongue licks up your slit, moving to your folds and up to suckle on your throbbing clit. You tug his hair and he buries his face impossibly more into your pussy. Grinding and shaking his face into you before gripping your hips to make you really grind against his mouth.

You squeal with every moment as he uses his tongue to curl deep inside of you – your legs shaking and he slurps. Your toes curl inside of your stuffy shoes and though you can’t see his face because of the skirt you wear, you can feel the devilish smirk against your flesh.

He pulls you up, holds you. A string of his salvia and your slick and cream mixed together on his lips. “Never did ask that question, sweetie.”

“Oh, fuck you Sylus.” He’s sitting you back down, your thighs squeezing his head. His mouth latched to your clit and doing deep sucks with his fingers pressed deep in your thighs. Opening his mouth wider to truly capture all of what he can of your cunt — there’s a deep hunger in every lick he gives, his tongue dragging down from your clit to your slit and back up again. He laps at your folds with nothing else but groans and soft moans that leave both of your mouths.

His tongue swirls on your clit before small soft kisses that make you flinch. Cream and slick trickling down your thighs, your hips continue to hump him — it was as if his face belonged there, his tongue glued to your core and eating up everything you had to offer. Lifting you again, he says, “Want to feel that pretty pussy soaking me… you’d like that won’t you?” He grins, showing all his teeth. You’re quick to nod your head, tears in your eyes… this man was turning you into his plaything and you could care less… there was a thrill to this.

He doesn’t take off his pants much to your disappointment but he helps you to sit on his lap, his lust filled scarlet eyes filled with nothing but desire as he rolls his hips against yours. A small gasp leaves your mouth, your bare cunt soaking his pants and his cock deliciously digging into your core. You wrap your arms around his neck and squeeze your eyes shut, letting him thrust up against your throbbing center. 

Throwing your head back – you rock your hips back and forth against his clothed cock – feeling him press himself harder into you, rubbing himself against your core with deep throaty groans of pleasure leaving his mouth. You try to match his movements, hips bouncing up and down against him with needy whines leaving your lips. You both hiss when his cockhead brushes up against your clit – he rubs himself back and forth repeatedly, slowly while you move faster – chasing that high and in that moment you knew of the pleasure and the high that Sylus mentioned earlier because your body was reveling in it. 

Your stomach swoops at the sticky sounds that come from your pussy and the soft noises he makes. Even with soundproof office spaces, you wouldn’t be surprised if someone heard you both. Lazy grinding becomes thrusting again before downright dirty gyrating of both of you against each other – so close, you were almost there yet again. Pathetic sinful whimpers falling out of your mouth, he presses openmouthed kisses up and down your neck, nibbling on your clavicle. Your back arches, tears falling from your eyes, your pussy sliding against him and his hips stuttering. But he stops, standing you both up. 

“W–why’d you stop?” You’re gasping for air on trembling legs, he holds you close. Small sniffles leaving your mouth, desperate to feel him.

“I believe our time is up, sweetie. Maybe another visit will help unpack more.” He chuckles, walking towards the door. “I’ll return these on my next visit.”

[doctorbeth]

A cheerful lavender bear

Bearsy's person's original email included a brief bio of the cheerful lavender bear:

When I was 4 years old my mom bought me this bear that I have loved for the past 18 years. It has travelled to 3 different countries w/ me and I’ve slept with it every night of my life. Bearsy has seen better days. I’ve already sewn up the cheek seams, back of the neck, and back of the head. I’m now noticing more tears on the neck as well as some on her belly. She also has had all the paint on her eyes scratched off my 4 year old me. After years of being hugged her stuffing has deflated a lot. She has some bald patches and what remains of her fur I nuzzle my face on.

Here are the diagnosis photos she sent:

As you can see, Bearsy's applique and smile are very important parts of her, but her fur had worn to almost all backing, and her person was hoping to restore the original texture. So we agreed to recover Bearsy, transplanting the appliques onto the new fabric.

Her person also wanted her to enjoy a spa, and have her vision restored while she was here. It took a couple of months for Bearsy to work up the courage to fly all the way across the country to California, but she did, and she quite enjoyed her bubble bath on arrival:

While she was drying, I ordered special lavender fur for her, and we agreed on her new eyes. Soon, she was soft and fuzzy again with her new fur and ready to be restuffed and of course she got a heart with her original stuffing:

And here she is all better, with her transplanted smile and belly applique, all new fur, and 20/20 vision.

She flew home to Pennsylvania and her person wrote:

Bearsy is home!! Thank you so so much for taking care of her. I can't wait to have many more years of adventures and snuggles with her. Thank you for breathing life back into her.

[attapullman]

Robert's Laundry Service | Neighbor!Robert "Bob" Floyd

Summary: A broken washing machine and a clogged bathroom sink lead you and Robert to explore the next part of your secret relationship.

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: Bob Floyd x afab!reader, no use of pronouns, no y/n, a little angsty, very smutty, 18+ ONLY as always, unprotected PinV, use of sex toys, language, a lot of cum mentions, neighbor!Bob being perfect as usual

A Note From Mo: Did anyone else miss neighbor!Bob? He needed some love, and that's what he's getting today! Thank you to @roosterforme for inspiring this idea that I took entirely too far. If anyone needs me, I'm going to be hoping that he moves into the empty apartment next to mine 🙏 p.s. this takes place before Stupid White Car

It’s hard to pay attention to the bad diagnosis he’s giving when your visual is just those threadbare grey sweats. Painted to his strong thighs, poking out from behind the washer like a personal serving of eye candy. You’re meant to be shining the flash light, but you long abandoned that task in favor of the view.

“…you can borrow mine in the meantime. I’ll call a guy Monday.”

Reluctantly, you draw your eyes from his lower half. Just as his words sink in.

“It’s broken?!”

Robert gives you a kindly amused grin. “Sweetheart, did you hear anything I’ve been saying?”

You grace him with a sheepish smile, caught red-handed.

“The tube disconnected from the wall and needs to be properly - professionally - connected before you use it again. I know it’s not the same, but you can do laundry at mine until someone comes out. I can make you tea and we can watch that undercover dating show you like?” His soft smile is as sweet as his offer.

You narrow your eyes at him playfully. “Hey now, you like that show too.”

Those cornflower blues shine, glad you’re not objecting. “I do, but only because it’s funny when you yell at the drama.”

He wraps his arm around your waist and guides you away from the laundry, back to where the two of you had been trying to decide on takeout over a game of checkers. Allowing him to drag you down to the couch, hips colliding into the soft fabric, you resume a lovely afternoon with Robert. 

Robert, your helpful Mr. Fix It neighbor. And maybe, one day, your boyfriend.

Robert lending you his laundry room for the weekend is so generous. It feels a bit silly carrying your delicates through his back yard (especially when you know a few pairs are crusty from your…sleepovers) but you’ll take his selfless offer if it means clean laundry and a lovely afternoon spent with him. 

As you work your way past the kitchen, you’re caught off-guard once again by how charming his home is. The little bits of personality, the framed photographs and handmade trinkets. While you know he can’t get any more perfect, his home makes a compelling argument.

The laundry room is fairly unremarkable - washer, dryer, large farmhouse sink for the unsavory jobs too nasty for the kitchen - but you do like his view of the neighborhood from the window. You’re almost curious if anyone will walk by and notice you standing in the wrong house, lacy balconette bra in hand.

Already regretting the amount of folded laundry you’re going to have to haul back through the gate after this, you begin prepping a load of lace and satin. Brainstorming ways to expedite the process, you overshoot pouring detergent into the water-filled drum and spill the cobalt goo all over your hand. Shit.

You rush over to the sink, subjecting yourself to freezing water to wash the detergent off your fingers. Once sufficiently clean, you reach for a cloth to dry off. And that’s when you see it. 

Oh. You’ve never seen one in real life before, just in porn and the odd naughty ad while scrolling. It almost feels as if you’re being punk’d. Like if you sliced through it, it would actually be cake.

A cock ring, soft silicone and all. Casually sitting on the sideboard, freshly cleaned.

Every muscle in your body freezes as the implications of seeing something so private wash over you. Something meant between lovers that you had never seen in the weeks since that fateful night you let him in for a cup of tea. 

It’s been a few days since you had last slept over. A scary sinking feeling fills your gut…was there someone else? 

You had been so focused on the neighborhood not knowing. Staying in your homes, using the back gate. It wasn’t like you had ever verbalized your intentions with him. You couldn’t blame him for thinking the two of you as casual, as much as it twisted your insides.

As your thoughts spiral, there’s motion in the doorway and Robert is suddenly there, big shoulders and a soft smile on his face at seeing you in his space. Exactly where he wants you.

“You get it going in here? Find the detergent okay?”

Those kind cobalt eyes follow your gaze to the sink, where you can’t break your focus on the dark silicone device. The one he meant to put away before you came over. His cheeks flush as he steps into the room to attempt to explain why he has something so private sitting out - in his laundry room of all places.

But as he goes to open his mouth, you cut him off. “You don’t have to explain. I don’t need to know everything in your….sex life. You’re obviously welcome to do whatever you like in the privacy of your home.”

His eyebrows raise, unsure why you seem so upset when the only issue is a clogged sink in the ensuite last night. 

You edge around him, desperate to get out of this space - his space - away from everything that reminds you of him as he figuratively slips through your fingers. “We never discussed being exclusive, so I get it.”

“What are you-?”

Tears threaten to spill over as he follows you toward his back door. “But if I’m being honest, I’m not sure I’m comfortable with us seeing other people, so-”

Robert’s eyes bug out of his head. Seeing other people? His blood pressure rises as the dots connect behind those pretty eyes, and suddenly he’s racing to cut you off. You’re faster than you look, but before you can turn the handle of the back door he’s plastered his body against the wood, effectively blocking you from leaving.

The pain behind your eyes begs him to move, to let you run back to the safety of your own home so you can cry and despair over not locking him down sooner. Of course there’s someone else. Of course you’re not the only one who can see how great Robert Floyd is.

“Robert, I need to leave. I need a moment alone. Please.”

But he holds his ground. The second you walk through that door he knows he’s lost you. His eyes are cautious behind those thick lenses, wanting to obey your wishes but the risk of losing you making every nerve stand on end. Whatever is wrong, he can fix this. He will fix it.

“Sweetheart.” His fingers reach into the space between you, hand clenching into a fist when he’s unsure whether he’s allowed to touch you right now. “There isn’t anyone else. I promise, you’re…you’re the only one.”

You eye him hesitantly, wanting to believe his words. But that cock ring has never made an appearance in your sleepovers. Never once brought up when he’s standing between your parted thighs, lips slotted against yours.

“I really want to believe you, I do. But why else would you be cleaning your, erm, toy?” You can’t bring yourself to say cock ring without bursting into frustrated tears.

It’s now that the fight within him drops, and immediately his shoulders release. Embarrassment floods his features and he drops his gaze, no longer able to look you in the eye. This is not how he anticipated bringing this dynamic into your relationship.

“That…it’s…I-I use it when I’m alone. I like to, uh, edge myself.”

His cheeks are flaming and the burning despair inside you dissipates into intrigue. A flame traipses through your abdomen, curious and hungry.

“You use it…alone?”

He desperately nods, tentatively reaching out to grasp your hands, needing to feel you. Those thick, strong fingers rub against your knuckles soothingly. Despite the whiplash of emotions conflicting inside you, his presence immediately soothes and you lean into his touch.

“The nights you can’t come over…I prefer to save my orgasms for you. Only you.”

His blush reflects yours as you look into those ocean-deep eyes, the desperation clear across his features. He’s being honest, laying out every last secret he’s got to keep you here.

“So, there’s no one else?” Your voice feels so small, barely a whisper in the kitchen.

He shakes his head definitively, using his grip on your hands to bring you closer as he stares deep into your eyes. “There’s no one else. And the fact you would even think that means I’m not doing a good enough job proving how much I care for you. Because I like you so much, sweetheart, so, so much.”

The tension in your body breaks, and you allow yourself to lean into his strong body. His panic dissipates as he holds you to him, one arm flush against your waist as his hand holds your face to his chest. He’s never letting you go, of that he knows for sure.

He can’t believe there would be any doubt in your mind of his intentions. The sleepovers, the dinners in, the way he’s made a home between your thighs…that makes you official, doesn’t it? He’s never been one for the right words, but he was pretty sure his actions proved he was in this for the long haul. 

You’re too important to mess up. To allow any seed of doubt to spread. 

His nose traces along your temple, warm breath kissing the delicate skin. “Can I take you to bed, sweetheart?” 

Your face lifts from his chest to take in his honest face. The loose tendril of sun-lightened brunette that’s escaped his neat hairstyle. The thin lopsided smile you trust in. Eyes behind corrected lenses that are serious and playful in the same breath. 

In lieu of an answer, you mold your lips to his, drinking in his taste you’ve deprived yourself of for days. His kindness and sincerity sink into you, surrounding you the pleasantly overwhelming way his body does as he wraps around you. Holding your hips as he swallows your tongue, shifting himself to feel every dip and curve of your body.

As his lips find your neck, the laundry room comes back into view. A delicious thought swirls in your mind and the words burst from your mouth.

“Can I see?”

He nuzzles against your jaw, grinding his erection against your thigh. 

“See what?” He’s distracted by how good you smell, how soft your skin feels beneath his fingers.

“I want to see you with the cock ring. Show me, please?”

Arousal floods his mind, images of you naked beneath him while his balls throb with cum just for you. No words needed before he’s pushing you in front of him to his bedroom. He’s ready to show you just how devoted he is to you.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, it feels like the first time with him all over again. Anticipation of the unknown, drowned in heavy lust. 

His eyes rake over you as he enters the room, lust darkening those soft blue eyes. You’re exactly how he wants you always - in his bed, eager for his touch. Right now, he’s yours.

Taking the spot between your legs, strong fingers stroking along jean-clad thighs, his broad frame bends toward you to rest his forehead against yours. That button nose knocking into yours. 

“There’s been no one else since the day you moved next door. I’m yours, only yours.”

The build up of emotions behind your eyes threatens to spill over as he presses his lips to yours. Cups the back of your head as he leans into you, applying the softest pressure. Pouring every ounce of his devotion into his kiss.

Your legs wrap around his slim hips, needing to feel his security and care. He’s the most helpful man to exist, and you know he’ll guide you through this dynamic. 

Kisses turn sweet to frantic to passionate as Robert holds your face. Your lips are chapped when he finally pulls away, strong chest rising and deflating. You know you mirror his disheveled aroused appearance. His hand reaches behind to his back pocket.

He holds the black cock ring between you, freshly washed, gleaming in the afternoon sunlight peeking through the curtains. “Are you sure about this?”

Your apprehensive eyes meet his, although a slight smile plays along your lips. “Play dirty with me. Please.”

Condensation beads on the lower rims of his glasses as he dips his face to kiss you, his skin flaming hot. The kiss is sinful yet curt, not wanting to lose himself before practicing restraint. You run your tongue along the seam of his lips, savoring his flavor. He hums against your mouth as your hands find his waist, heart picking up speed as your fingers find the button of his jeans. 

Robert clenches the cock ring in his fist, already struggling to hold his load as the softness of your skin wraps tightly around his hardening cock. 

His eyes are lidded, thin mouth already agape from the pleasure of your fist stroking firmly up and down his shaft. Can barely keep focus between the way you squeeze his deep pink tip and the spectacular view down your top, his mind running wild at the all the skin he needs to touch. He’s practically forgotten the reason for his view until you lick your lips sweetly and ask.

“Can I put it on?”

Fingers unfurl and present the silicone ring to you, warm from his clenched fist. You press the ring between your fingers, taking in the smooth design and thick circumference. Glide your thumb along the little button that makes it vibrate. 

He’s panting above you, already wrecked at the vision. The only two things he deems worthy of his cock, right in front of him. 

Bringing the ring up to your lips, he watches as you run your tongue along it, gathering your saliva to glisten along the silicone for a smoother glide. Your fingers effortlessly slipping along the edge before you touch it to the sensitive tip of his cock. 

His fingers curl around the nape on your neck, holding the hair there, grounding himself. Between your ministrations and the pressure of the ring slipping down his length, he’s dizzy with stimulation. His cock immediately swelling in response. Lip between his teeth to contain the gruff moans you’re desperate to hear.

Your eyes are focused on the firm grip the ring has on the length of him, sliding down until your thumb is brushing his heavy ballsack, pulsing with need. 

“Sweetheart, I’m not going to last.” He’s panting against your forehead, trying so hard to be patient, but wanting nothing more than to thrust into your fist and chase his orgasm. 

You tilt his chin to press a chaste kiss to his lips. A promise to take care of him, because you and you alone are responsible for his pleasure. Always.

Sliding back onto the soft coverlet, you raise your hips to remove your jeans. Skin growing warm at the wanton look of need in Robert’s eyes as you unbutton your top. His voice but a whine when you sit in front of him in nothing but the delicate chain around your neck. 

“So beautiful.”

It’s impossible to tell whose whimpers are more desperate as you run the shiny-slick swollen head of him against your core. Moaning as it catches on your entrance, ready to sink deep into those velvet depths. Voices becoming one as you impale yourself on the thick shaft that’s all yours.

He can’t believe anything could be better. This is Nirvana. Until you reach between to where your bodies meet and hit that tiny little button.

“Fuck!” He never swears, and yet that filthy word streaks through the room with a bite. Yelped loudly as he buries his face into your neck. The combination of vibrations and warm, tight pussy sending him into a spiral. Groaning out praises into your neck like it’s his last day alive.

You can’t help the grin on your face as you experience him come undone. How had you been denied the pleasure of watching him like this? The salt of his neck, the wayward curl stuck to his forehead? It’s a toss up if you’re getting off on being stuffed with his engorged cock or by watching the way his chest heaves for breath as he fights off his orgasm.

“Are you going to cum for me?” You’re drunk on power watching him like this, rutting his hips into you over and over for a pleasure that won’t come until you decide. His nod so desperate it goes right to your clit. His swollen cock stretching you beyond what you thought possible. The frisson of skin on skin, those tiny yet powerful vibrations, and his affection for you is overwhelming. 

The ring fully still in place, your orgasm wracks your body, convulsing over the sheets. Barely able to notice his soft lips brushing the arch of your breasts as he consumes your satisfaction. Drinking in the sounds of your moans as they mix with his wet thrusts. 

Your sleepy eyes are all he focuses on as he chases his orgasm, fighting past his usual routine of stopping here when he only has his hand. Right now he gets to have it all - the constricted blood flow, the vibration, and you. Perfect, wonderful you. His hands fist in the bedding, rooting himself, as sinks his hips deeper with precise strokes. 

He can do this. He will show you you’re the only one for him.

Body quivering, his face is bright red as he thrusts, exertion bringing the vein in his forehead out with a matching bead of sweat. Robert feels his body take on a new consciousness as you ask for his cum once more.

His grunts are filthy - animalistic and deep. The first stream of cum he’s ever experienced with the ring on filling your stretched pussy, claiming you as his. Head fuzzy, he takes a moment to pull himself from your soft embrace and jerk his engorged cock, shot after shot of cum pumping out across your body. A painting only he gets to witness.

His tank now empty, you feel the soft thump of his body fall beside yours. Hear him catch his breath in the quiet afternoon air.

Exhausted, his face knocks into yours - glasses already lost to the coverlet - as he comes to reality once again. Strong arms reaching to pull you to him. Lackadaisical kisses to your cheek before risking a glance down and laughing abashedly.

“T-there’s so much cum. It’s everywhere.” Another kiss. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.” 

The carefree yet sheepish grin he gives you melts your heart. You kiss him back, not needing to look as you feel his seed dry on your skin in the golden hour light. He very truly marked you as his, just as he is yours. 

Smoothing your fingers through his hair, memorizing every little detail of his face - what a handsome face - you ease his embarrassment. “It’s not a big deal. We’ll just throw the sheets in the washer and enjoy dinner. It’s fine, really.” 

His washer currently filled with your delicates complicates things, but your big, sweet smile soothes his self-consciousness. He returns the grin back, holding you closer. 

That night is spent eating Robert’s lasagna and playing cards until every light on the street went out. It’s far too late when the sheets are finally clean and dried, and even later when they’re successfully on the bed. But it’s worth it to him when you crawl under the duvet and beckon him closer, needing one last kiss from your boyfriend before sleep.

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[bluejeanstrash]

tags: boyfriend! seungcheol x reader, just a little light-hearted fluff of seungcheol being a dramatic whiny baby when he’s sick, mentions of dry scalp and skin picking lol, seungcheol is very whiny | wc: 742

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

a classic cough and cold combo paired with a side of fever-related aches and pains — that was the diagnosis, not the life-threatening illness seungcheol was sure he’d contracted. he’d tried convincing you it was fast-spreading. like really fast. like it has taken over his body and has been shutting down his organs one by one for the past 6 hours fast.

‘i’m going to die. it’s not a joke anymore. i seriously feel like i’m going to die’ he tugs at the hem of your t-shirt as you clear up the mountain of tissues on the left bedside table, and then tugs again while you’re clearing up a pile of dishes on the right.

you sigh, ignoring him, and disappear into the kitchen to reappear with a fresh bowl of hot chicken soup ‘seungcheol, we’ve been over this already. you’re not going to die’

‘forget it! just get me my will. i have to make some last-minute changes’ he asks for it dramatically, draping a limp arm over his eyes.

‘you don’t have a will’ you blow on the hot soup in quick bursts before feeding him a spoonful.

‘ugh, never mind. it’s fine’ the will talk is waved off with a quick fan of the hand to make way for what he says next ‘they give everything to the spouse anyway. wait, do they?’

‘i don’t know, and we’re not married’ you remind him, stirring the hot liquid so the shredded chicken, his favourite part, rises to the top.

‘god, you’re right’ he sits up a little straighter and grabs your free hand, suddenly somber ‘do you take choi seungcheol to be your lawf-’

you force-feed him another spoonful to shut him up, a bit of it spilling onto the quilted blanket. the soup must’ve still been too hot because he lets out a little cry, whining, though it’s entirely possible he’s overreacting.

‘you’re not taking this seriously, i’m actually dying’

‘you’re not’

‘what do you know! you’re not a doctor!’ he grumbles, taking a moment to tell you he really likes the soup and really really appreciates you making it for him before continuing to rant.

‘yeah, and what about the actual doctor we called who said you’re not?’

‘he doesn’t know anything either, that hack. the people on the internet’ he picks up his phone from the bed, showing you a screenshot from some site you’re pretty sure is for hypochondriacs to confirm each other’s delusions, and taps on the screen ‘have told me i have less than 24 hours left. 24. 24!’

‘seungcheol, i can’t have this conversation with you anymore. seriously. you need to go to sleep’ you put the empty bowl aside, straightening, and then pulling the blanket up to cover him.

‘no, no, don’t leave. i want lap time’ he pouts, baby-talking his way into his third one of the day. you sit back down on the bed with a sigh as he repositions himself to lay on your lap, wriggling his head around until he’s comfy. your fingers slowly comb through his hair, your nails scratching lightly against his scalp to soothe him. in a slightly gross but domestic act, you pick a few bits of flaky skin out of his unwashed hair, flicking them away. you should wash it for him later, you think. he’d like that.

seungcheol always found the sensation of you picking at his scalp strangely comforting, and surprisingly quite sleep-inducing. minutes pass without a single sound.

it’s quiet. finally. or so you think.

‘if i die, you can’t date anyone for the next 10 years. at least’

‘what?!’ you jerk your thighs up, pushing him off your lap ‘10 years? you’re crazy’

he can’t believe what he’s hearing.

‘i was just being nice. you shouldn’t date anyone ever, but ohmygod, i can’t believe you want to be with someone else’ he presses his fingers to his temples, suddenly coming down with a headache.

‘so let me get this straight’ he continues ‘you’re telling me when i die tomorrow-’

‘you won’t’

‘-when i die tomorrow, you’re going to bring some other man to my funeral?!’ his cheeks now hot with a shade of distressed pink.

you’re not sure where he’s got that from but you’ve had enough. you get up, grabbing the bowl, and look him straight in the eye, pinching his cute little cheeks ‘well, it’s a good thing you’re not dying then’

you walk out, leaving him right there on the bed, hot and most definitely cold.

[deadghosy]

🪓 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐑|| 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 𝐗 𝐆𝐍! 𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

Diagnosis: fearing to harm your lover, you drink blood from another. Making the riddle himself feel jealous and angry at how you could think he can’t take it.

Warning: possessive behavior, possessive!mattheo, death/blood/killing mentions, slight maybe, suggestive.

Being a vampire in Hogwarts was and is a dangerous game to play. Especially when you had fallen inlove with a mortal human from a rich Slytherin family. The Riddles. Mattheo Riddle was a Slytherin boy who had taken a liken to your “cold” & “loner” personality. He liked how you kept to yourself when really you were trying not to hurt people.

Mattheo did a slow, and friendly approach. Which slowly but surely turned into flirting banter between you two. Gaining your heart, and gaining your trust after almost a year of dating each other. You finally told him that you’re a vampire. You thought the worst, the worst being that he would tell everyone and break up with you. Only for you to gain the opposite of your imagination. He was supportive and didn’t tell a soul.

But he mostly definitely asked a lot of questions.

But last night, you killed a student. Hungry. You were so hungry you lost control and killed a former Hogwarts student that happened to run into your clutches for it to be a death trap. You were lost in a daze, sinking your fangs into their neck and draining them dry til their life and blood source was destroyed. And gone. You could’ve drunk from Mattheo, he had told you to drink his blood if it was serious. But the thought of harming him made you wanna throw up. You felt terrible, so terrible you didn’t talk at all today. Gaining attention from some students and mostly Mattheo. He walked into your dorm seeing pacing back and forth until you seen him. He stared seeing your slight baggy eyes.

“What’s wrong? You look like you had a crazy night or somthin'” he said jokingly. You stayed quiet before nervously laughing. “Yeah…” Mattheo stopped laughing hearing that laughter. He heard that laughter enough to know something actually did happen. “What happened?” You immediately tried to walk past him. You felt scared, you didn’t want him to know you lost control and killed a student.

He pulls you by your arm, gripping it slightly as his eyes darken at your nervous gaze. He hated how he can tell that you’re lying. “The fuck happened last night?” You kept avoiding eye contact making him pull your face close to his with his other hand. “What. Happened.” Breaking the last thread that held you in, you started to ramble from the events. Closing your eyes shut you spilled it, “I drunk another person’s blood and accidentally killed them because I didn’t think you could handle me sucking your own blood, and I’m so sorry!”

Mattheo let out a deep breath and let your arm and face go. Feeling a bit guilty at how he grabbed your arm and stated to massage the arm he held. Worried it might bruise. “Darling…it’s okay. I’m a Riddle for a reason. I can handle you sucking my blood. Plus killing someone isn’t a shock to me much.” You smiled at his words. “But.” Your smile dropped looking at his darkened eyes. It was like an empty void as he tilts his head at you. “But I’m yours, and you’re mine. I can’t let you drink some filthy blood that’s not mine.” You gulped as he moved his hand towards your lips.

He uses his thumb to pull your lower lip down, showing your bottom sharp fangs. There was emotion hidden behind mattheo eyes. You felt fear for a little before he leaned into your ear. “Drink my blood baby. Drink it til it make us dizzy together.” And there goes that crazed smile you fell in love with as he withdraws from your ear and looks at you. Completely towering over you. Your heart felt it was going to leap.

“Cmon. Don’t be scared love. I promise I can take it.” He smiles again, but this time his eyes are different. They soften as he undo his tie while keeping eye contact with you. With one hand it came undone. You felt your mouth water at the sight of his naked neck. Mattheo smirked seeing your eyes dilate. He knew that you were now hungry. You inch closer, and closer. Leaning your head, but your consciousness kept telling you that you were gonna hurt him.

“I..I can’t—” “but you can.” Mattheo quickly interrupts you. “I know you can. I know you’re strong enough to know you can’t hurt me. I can handle it.” Bringing his hand and caressing your cheek. You nodded, you trusted Mattheo to tell you if you are hurting him. You bit into his neck.

With a hiss, Mattheo puts his hand on your waist. Bring you closer as you sink your teeth in deeper. Breaking the flesh and sucking in his blood. You could hear Mattheo chuckle lowly, but what you didn’t see was the light blush and euphoric look he had on his face. His low eyes as he grips the side of your waist. You hummed at the delicious iron taste. Filling your mouth while Mattheo let out a small moan. “That’s right baby…drink as much as you can. Drink it all..” he whispers as he lowers his eyes at you. You hummed and finished the last drop you could drink.

Your eyes were glossy when you pulled back from his neck. Licking the bites that threaten to spill more from Mattheo. “Sorry if I hurt you…” you say lowly, embarrassed at how you also feel on cloud nine from drinking his blood. “You didn’t hurt me.” He kissed the temple of your head then wipes your red stained lips. “Didn’t even feel a pinch.” He smiled while you just roll your eyes. “Whatever…”

At least you knew how he feels if you don’t drink his blood.

[larluce]

Arthur thinks Merlin was raped (but he wasn't)

This is kind of a prequel to this post, click here if you want more context -> LINK

Tagging @cinnabon-sweetroll-tiramisu , @odinjm , @hssmaureader , @daniella0 , @stressed-but-chill , @smileytrinity

When Arthur finds Merlin in the woods after being lost for 3 weeks, he feels so much joy. He doesn't remember feeling so much joy in his life. Merlin is dirty, his clothes riped and with dry blood, but alive. And that’s all he cares right now.

Arthur: (more than happy and relieved) Merlin! I thought we lost you (goes to him to give him a hug, thinking) That I lost you.

Merlin: (Backs away quickly before Arthur can hug him, wide eye and terrified)

Arthur: (confused) Merlin?

Gwain: Merls, it's us, relax (extends a hand)

Merlin: (shakes his head, frantic, and goes limping to hide behind a tree)

Lancelot: (worried) Merlin... (aproaches carefully) Merlin, it's okay. You're safe now (extends his hand, gently, with a reassuring smile).

Merlin: (shakes his head again and tries to say something but he can't, so he whimpers quietly)

Lancelot: No touching, alright. (Lifts his hands in surrender) No one is going to touch you.

Arthur: (approaches as carefully as Lancelot did) Do you recognise us? (Thinking, begging) Please, say you do.

Merlin: (Nods and tries to speak again, but closes his mouth, frustrated)

Arthur: (realises, heartbroken) You can't speak.

Arthur and the knights can only imagine the horrors Merlin endured. It's obvious he was tortured but they didn't know how much of his new behaviour is result of physical damage or trauma. For example, is Merlin too traumatized to speak or is he physically unable? Did his tortures cut his tonge? Damaged his vocal chords? And what the hell have they done to Merlin to make him so afraid of human touch?

With a lot of reassuring and patience, they manage to bring Merlin back to Camelot. It was difficult not to touch him when he kept limping and falling. And Merlin refused to use a horse for some reason, no matter how much they insisted, so they had to get a cart to transport him. When they finally arrive, they bring him to Gaius immediately so the physician can check him, but Merlin doesn't let him touch him either and he locks himself in his room. It takes days for Gaius to have a formal diagnosis for the king.

Gaius: (reports painfully) He was starved, beaten, cut, whiped and burned several times for what I could see.

Arthur: For what you could see?

Gaius: He wouldn't let me see all the wounds (sighs). He was also immobilized with chains by the wrists, ankles and neck. He must have struggled a lot because the marks of the chains are actually worse than the torture itself.

Arthur: (his heart aching for Merlin and burning in fury for the bastards who did this, composes himself just enough to ask again) His voice... did they...did they cut his-

Gaius: No, sire. He's physically able to talk He's just too traumatized to do it. It might take a while for him to talk again.

Arthur: (sighs releaved, but still fill with sorrow) Why? Why would they do this to him? Merlin never hurt anyone, who would want to- (stops when he sees Gaius apprehensive expression) You know something.

Gaius: (hesitantly) Merlin can't speak but he can still write, sire. He... he managed to write me some things.

Arthur: (raises his voice, angry) And you tell me this now?! What did he write?

Gaius: ...

Arthur: (demands) Gaius, I order you to tell me.

Gaius: (sighs) Apparently the bandits that captured him wanted... information sire. To know all the weak spots of the castle... and everything related to you.

Arthur: (open his eyes wide, horrified and devastated, and sinks in a nearby chair) No...

Gaius: He didn't say a thing, sire. You don't have anything to wo-

Arthur: (explodes) I know he didn't! That idiot! He should have told them everything! I wouldn't have blamed him, but of course he didn't. I whish he had (breaks down and cries) This is all my fault.

Gaius: (comforting him, a hand on Arthur's shoulder) This is no one's fault but theirs. You can't prevent every conspiration, attack or attemp murder directed at you. You're the king. It's expected.

Arthur: I should have protected him better, found him sooner. I should-

Gaius: Dwelling on what if scenarios won't help you. And it definitely won't help Merlin. What he needs now is for you to be there for him, be strong for him

So Arthur does just that. When Merlin keeps locking himself in his room and refuses to leave, Arthur visits him at the door and slide pieces of paper through the door crack so Merlin can write the words he can't speak and they can have a small talk at least once a day. Arthur can hear things being thrown and broken constantly and, the first days, Merlin doesn't even pick up the paper. When Merlin finally does, the paper is returned with a short messages along the lines of "Go away", "Leave me alone" to which Arthur reponds firmly he won't, he never will, every single time. Then Merlin's messages turn longer little by little and Arthur's one sided conversations with the door are over.

The day Merlin finally leaves his room and resumes his duties is a blessing as much as it is a curse. Arthur is glad and greatful at Merlin's progress, but seeing him doing his chores silently, just noding or shaking his head when asked something, and without sharing a single smile is painful. Merlin still doesn't let anyone touch him, which everyone respects, but is specially difficult for Arthur since, he realises, he used to manhandle his manservant a lot. They still comunicate through papers when necessary, but is just not the same.

A particular day Merlin almost falls down the stairs and Arthur, forgetting his manservant boundaries for a second, catches him in reflex.

Merlin: (separates from Arthur in full panic mode, screaming) NO!

Arthur: I'm so sorry, Merlin! I didn't mean-wait (open his eyes wide in surprise) You talked?

Merlin: (unsure, repeats) No? (brings a hand to his mouth in surprise and repeats, fearful) No? (his hand goes to his neck, nervous, as if expecting something bad to happen, but then he smiles brightly and shouts, very excited) No!😃 NO!😄

Arthur: (laughs in excitment, so happy he might cry) Your voice is back! You can talk again! (about to go for a hug)

Merlin: (lifts his hands, warnly) No!😠

Arthur: (lifts his hands too, quickly) Right, sorry. (They both lower their hands at the same time) Ahm... Is 'no' the only word you can say?

Merlin: (shrugs)

Arthur: Come one, try something else.

Merlin: (hesitanly) Ar...thur?

Arthur: See? You can talk.

Merlin: (smiles softly, and says fondly) Arthur. (tries to say something more elaborated, but in the end only manages to say again) Arthur. (Purses his lips, frustrated)

Arthur: (smiles at him fondly) One word at a time, don't force yourself. I can't believe I'm saying this, but it's good to hear your annoying voice again. (thinking) And hearing you saying my name and smiling. How much I missed that smile.

After that, Merlin is able to give short answers. First from 1 to 3 words and later one sentence or two. He's also more expressive now with his features, not as much as he was before, but he makes small frowns and gives small smiles from time to time. Arthur craves those moments. Even if Merlin's face contorts in fury because Arthur tried to exclude him from going on trips with him to protect him, or because Arthur doesn't do things like throwing things at him anymore because he believes Merlin's made of cristal. Arthur can’t help feeling happy because Merlin's face is finally wearing some emotion.

Then comes the day Arthur sees Merlin having a nightmare.

Arthur finds Merlin fallen asleep in his bed. Before Arthur would have get mad, but he knows through Gaius that Merlin hasn’t been sleeping well so he lets him. He starts checking his informs when suddenly he hears Merlin crying for help. Arthur runs to him inmediatly.

Merlin: (begs in his sleep, moving and crying desperatly) No! Anything but that, please.

Arthur: (tries to wake him up without touching him) Merlin, it's just a nightmare. Wake up.

Merlin: (doesn’t wake up and cries more painfully) Please! Hurts too much! Please! Stop!

Arthur: Merlin-

Merlin: Arthur! Arthur, I'm here! Please! Arthur!

Arthur: (shouts) Merlin!

Merlin: (wakes up abruptly and checks desperatly his wrists and neck)

Arthur: (comforting him) You are safe. You are in Camelot. You are safe.

Merlin: (wipes his tears and looks around) I fell asleep in your bed. I'm sorry.

Arthur: (smiles) It’s okay. (Wants to put a comforting hand on his shoulder but restrains himself) You were having a nightmare.

Merlin: I... I don't want to talk about it.

Arthur: Alright. But if you ever want to. Just know that I'm here to listen.

Merlin: (Nods in understanding and sighs) I'll get back to work. (Stands up)

Arthur: (complains, but not really) As you should. Those chores aren’t going to make theirselfs, you know?

Merlin: (smiles a little, cause he knows what Arthur is doing) Right away, sire. (Leaves)

After that, Arthur asks Gaius if he knows what Merlin's dream are about exactly, because it seemed there was a especific type of torture Merlin dreaded the most, but while Gaius seems to know, he refuses to tell him, even when he commands him. "It's not my place to tell" It's all physician says. It bugs Arthur the rest of the day. It's not until Arthur leads a trial of a rape victim that devasting realisation hits him.

That girl, that poor girl acts just like Merlin. Not letting anyone touch her, barely speaking. There are marks on her wrists of ropes the inmobilized her while she was... Just like Merlin's chains. "He must have struggled a lot because the marks of the chains are actually worse than the torture itself" Gaius had said. Merlin's nightmares. Merlin limping when they found him in the wood. Merlin not wanting to ride on a horse.

Arthur's world crushes all over again. His Merlin, his best friend was raped. Arthur can see his knights came to the same conclusion, because of the devasted expression they have when he meets them in private.

Elyan: (still in denial) It can't be... not Merlin.

Leon: It does make sense though. If none other torture seemed to work...

Percival: And Merlin has always had... very delicate features for a man.

Gwaine: Those sick bastards!

Lancelot: (no quiet believing this theory yet because he knows Merlin has magic to defend himself, but he can't share that so he just stays silent) ...

Arthur: (with deadly and serious expression) As soon as we find them, we'll make them pay. For now I want you to keep taking turns in watching over Merlin.

All knights: Yes, sire!

By month 3, Merlin talks almost as frequently as he did before, maybe with less jokes and smiles, but he's getting there. Arthur is glad some of their usual banter is back.

Merlin: (asks, shyly) Arthur? Could you... it's just I want to try something, but... you don't have to if-

Arthur: (throwing whatever he's doing inmediatly) Of course, anything. Just ask.

Merlin: (blushes a little) Could you... give me your hand?

Arthur: (his heart stops with emotion for a moment, but composes himself) Sure (he extends his hand)

Merlin: (slowly but surely joins their palms and smiles. After a moment, he says relieved to himself) Nothing happened.

Arthur: (joyful at feeling Merlin's touch again, but his heart breaking at Merlin's words) Of course nothing happened. I would never hurt you, Merlin.

Merlin: (smiles a little) I know. (Lets go of Arthur’s hand)

Arthur: (missing his touch already) If you need to... you can ask me to help you again, you know? With the whole touching thing.

Merlin: (surprised) Really?

Arthur: (nods) Whenever you want.

Merlin: (smiles a little) Thank you.

And Arthur finds himself craving those moments too. He always waits for Merlin to initiate the touch. Arthur doesn't risk doing it, fearing he could scare Merlin. So he waits. First Merlin just asks to join their hands from time to time. Then, one blessful day, Merlin tell him is okay to touch his arm or his shoulder like Arthur used to do. Arthur does it gently though, enjoying and appreciating it as he never did before. Arthur feels sense of achievement when Merlin stops tensing at his touch completly, at easy with him again.

Gwaine: (while training, sighs) I miss Merlin's hugs.

Lancelot: (sad) Me too. He's making a great progress with touch though. And he smiles more.

Percival: Remember when he asked me if I could carry him in my back?

Elyan: And you said "I could carry you with a single finger!" And then you picked him up (All the knights except for Arthur, laugh)

Arthur: (suddenly very sternly) stop chatting and get back to training.

Gwaine: Relax, princess. We were just talking about all the times Merlin-

Arthur: (raises his voice, mad) I said get back to training!

Leon: (worried) Are you alright, sire?

Arthur: (harshly) I'm fine.

Gwaine: (realising) Wait... you've never hugged Merlin before?

Arthur: ...

Gwaine: (laughing) Oh, gods! That's what it is. You're jealous!

Lancelot: (warns) Gwaine.

Gwaine: What? Is not my fault mister I'm-too-great-to-show-affection didn't get to hug Merlin before.

Leon: (seeing Arthur's increasinly furious face, warns too) Gwaine, stop.

Gwaine: And he doesn't get to be mad at us just because he'll never get to hug him now.

Arthur: (shouts and launches himself at Gwaine and they start fighting)

The rest of the knights: (try to stop them but is useless).

Arthur: (about to throw the finale punch)

Merlin: (enters the training ground and aproaches, confused) Arthur? Gwaine? What's happening?

Arthur: (gets distracted at Merlin's appearance)

Gwaine: (takes advantage and makes Arthur trip)

Arthur: (Ends with his face in a puddle of mud)

Gwaine:... 😨

Elyan:... 😧

Lancelot:...😓

Percival: ...😰

Leon: ...🤦‍♂️

Merlin: (burst out laughing) OMG! Your face! I can't! 🤣😂

All the knights, specially Arthur: (stunned but mostly mesmerised cause Merlin hasn’t laugh, properly laugh since they found him in the woods and they have missed his beautiful laugh so damn much)

Merlin: (wipes his tears of hapiness) Sorry. I'm done now.

Arthur: (Thinking, almost in panic) No, you aren't! (Turns to Gwaine and orders) Gwaine, give me your face.

Gwaine: What-

Arthur: (smashes mud in his face)

Merlin: (starts laughing again, but not as hard as before)

Lancelot: (understanding what Arthur is doing, thinks) Is not enough. (Makes a ball of mud and throws it at Elyan's face)

Elyan: Hey! 😠

Lancelot: (pointing at Merlin) Look!

Merlin: (is laughing harder)

Percival: (shouts) Mud fight! (And everyone starts throwing mud at each other)

Merlin: (still laughing) What are you doing, you idiots! Now I'll have to wash all your armors!

Arthur: Don't be dull, Merlin! Join us!

Merlin: (giggles) You're worst than children, I swear. (shakes his head but joins the fight)

Arthur's finally got his Merlin back and he'll never lose him again.

[octopus-punching-union]

Mortkranken first reactions—

(spoilers, obviously)

I really liked the case in this one. All the info we learned early in the chapter (about curses, the mermaid, the acid) came back and wrapped up nicely in the end, I thought that was really satisfying.

How desperate that guy must've been, though... being in the hospital for upwards of a year, not seeing any progress made on a cure to his curse. As someone who spent years trying to get an accurate diagnosis for chronic health issues, I kinda get it. (All of the conflicting info MC's getting about her curse is also deeply relatable...)

Hopefully he's not still conscious, in that state of being immortal but with his body constantly being eaten by acid. That's just horrifying.

The info about anomalous viruses vs allergic responses and all that was really interesting, but I think MC's curse is different from those. According to Ed, forgetting about the eye will break the curse, so it's at least partly psychological? (And they like totally gloss over Yuri's super-cure. Even though it didn't work on MC, he might've just cured a ton of the curses in existence, which is huge!)

Yuri's stigma was kinda underwhelming. Like, his superpower is Smart. He's already really smart, and I don't feel like he should have needed his stigma (plus MC's boost) to figure out a battle plan. (But I loved that MC was just like fuck it I'm gonna hold your hand and he was scandalized about it. Bets that he's gonna be lying awake at night thinking about it?)

Loved Yuri and Jiro's dynamic. Loved Jiro being so blasé about everything. Did he kill someone? Maybe, he can't remember, nbd. Let's just put a corspe on dry ice, nothing wrong with that...

I wonder how much of Jiro's memory is affected? If it's just stuff from around the Clash, or generally everything before his coma? (How much does he remember Zenji?)

LOVED MC taking initiative at the end and calling for the general students to help. Yeah, they needed some extra motivation, but like. Most of the ghouls seem to forget that the general students even exist, and don't consider that they might be able to help with anything. Once they get up to the surface, the general students realize that yeah, they can help! I think that's really important when talking about campus unity — the general students are part of Darkwick, too.

About the Clash... the murder victim being in Ultio is making me feel more certain that the list of suspects is a red herring. I feel like Ultio was pretty shady and literally anything could have happened.

Also starting to think that the Clash was like every house for themselves and there weren't clear-cut sides. Frostheim, Vagastrom, and Mortkranken all hate each other. Everyone hates Obscuary. Everyone thinks Hotarubi's a bunch of anomaly sympathizers. Etc.

Really nice to see everyone making an appearance in this episode, even if briefly.

Subaru and Sho! I love them so much and I hope nothing bad happens to them.

Luca and Kaito! I feel like they've both grown a little since we last saw them? Luca jumps to conclusions but backs down quickly when he realizes he's misunderstood something. (Adorable really, when he thanks the one guy for giving them directions to the Pit. What a sweetheart.) Kaito is so so so intimidated by Jiro, but he stands up for MC when Jiro tries to take her away without explaining.

Alan! I wish we'd gotten more of him, especially with him being the first witness and all. It reinforced some thoughts I had about his character — that he really cares about the Vagastrom students on a personal level. And once he's decided that he trusts you, he really trusts you. (Back in Vagastrom episode, he never once questioned Tohma's actions or intentions, even when Leo served up some damning evidence. And after their mission, he still had a lot of faith in MC even though her ability had just catastrophically "failed" right in front of him. Here, he trusts that she'll solve the case and is willing to give her whatever she needs without question.)

Leo seemed a little... softer this episode. I feel like in episode 2, he wouldn't have taken the step to go make a copy of the case report for MC to have. He's still got some conflict with Alan about how to investigate, but this doesn't feel like he's trying to cut corners. (Genuinely, HOW is Alan planning to interview 80+ people on his own. How.)

(Luca and Alan I think are similar in that they both feel a strong personal responsibility to take action, even if they don't know the best thing to do. Luca jumping to conclusions and picking fights despite Kaito begging him to slow down, Alan sticking with inefficient old-school methods despite the results Leo gets by being more innovative. They both need someone to balance them out so that they can do their best, and I think finding that is going to be a big character development thing for both of them.)

Also interesting that Tohma seemed to take issue with Haku saying "our" referring to Hotarubi, considering how much Tohma has integrated himself into Frostheim.

Oh my god. That conversation between Haku and Tohma. Haku was definitely in Frostheim before, and Tohma seemed even less friendly than in their campus scene. And Haku is totally taunting Tohma like "Maybe MC and I are closer than you think."

...And then right when Tohma is accusing Jiro of messing with Frostheim, Rui pops up like "you know I'm watching you right?" and provides an alibi for Jiro (the herbs). This new ability of like, lurking in the shadows and watching everyone is great yandere fuel...

I've been assuming that "President of the Institute" is an elected or appointed role? But Tohma just goes right out and says that Jin will be the next president. If they're planning a coup, that's not very subtle. Unless it's not news that Jin will be/wants to be the next President... like if it's a hereditary position or if Haku was already aware of Jin's ambitions (if Haku used to be part of their plans?) Or, if it's a hereditary position, does this imply that Jin's family founded the Institute?

Towa and the tree. The yellow fruit represents Vagastrom? Something between Mid-Obscuary and Mid-Mortkranken caused the fruit to grow, and something in the latter half of Mortkranken caused it to wither. Idk yet.

Ren, cup ramen connoisseur. Ritsu, so sheltered that he's only ever had ramen at one specific restaurant and doesn't really realize that it's weird. Cat manager of the campus store. Those cats really need to unionize.

Taiga... might just be trying to cause problems for fun? But possibly he knows something about the inner workings of Darkwick that would turn him against the Gala and Laurel Crown.

Ed! Ed!!! Yessss, call out the Chancellor for lying in front of the entire fucking school. I love him, and I love that after warning MC about confronting Darkwick on her own, he does it himself so publicly that they can't retaliate against her.

I want to like Hyde. I really want to like him. Looking at his deal positively, he probably knows Dante well enough to know that he would support the Gala, and therefore his own support wouldn't actually be the swing vote. And the deal with MC was just to motivate her to try and unite the ghouls (he's previously talked about seeing the ghouls as people and the extreme responsibilities put on them).

I still don't trust Nicolas or the Chancellor, even though he apologized. They're claiming to care about MC's mental health, but is really that much more traumatic to find out that you're turning into an anomaly, vs that you're gonna die in a year? Both suck, but their decision withheld critical information about the curse that could have helped her identify what's happening to her. MC had no clues at all until Ed talked to her, two months into her year deadline. She is already starting to change. I really don't think that Darkwick, as an institution, has any intention of helping her.

...but he's clearly got yet another agenda going on. What exactly is he talking Sho into doing now? At this point I think Dante is the least shady of the professors, and he might literally be a reanimated corpse.

[mynameismckenziemae]

A Little Bit Stronger

Part 6

(previous part here, next part here)

Bradley Rooster Bradshaw x OFC

Summary: You experience more than one first with Bradley.

Just like everything else I write/post: this story is for 18+ only. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. It will contain smut, adult themes, situations and language. Please also note this story may be triggering due to the topic of domestic abuse (physical, emotional, sexual) violence-feel free to message me with any questions before reading.

Warnings: Smut, oral (f receiving) p in v, discovering a praise kink, size kink I think? etc.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

“I like you too.”

He lights up like a kid on Christmas morning at the news; as if you weren’t an eager participant in the dry-humping that occurred just minutes earlier.

“We’ll take things at your pace,” he squeezes your hand, “whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“Okay,” you whisper, blinking back unexpected tears, “I should warn you though, I’m not very…experienced.”

“It’s okay,” he murmurs.

“I fooled around with a boyfriend in high school a bit but didn’t have time to date when I was in nursing school, so I was still a virgin when I met Chad,” you sigh. “My mom had just gotten her diagnosis and I was just so naive. I thought it was so sweet that he wanted to wait until marriage. But it was obvious on our wedding night that it wasn’t his first time.”

Bradley just shakes his head.

“It wasn’t a great experience…and it never really got better,” you’re embarrassed to admit, but he deserves to know what he’s getting into. “He grew up very religious and…I don’t know,” your cheeks burn, “he didn’t believe in foreplay…no oral sex, God forbid we try toys or anything to get me ready.”

Bradley's expression turns to anger but he doesn’t say anything.

“I mean it wasn’t all bad, I was able to get off a few times throughout the years,” it doesn’t sound better out loud than it did in your head.

“That’s not right,” Bradley says, “I mean, everyone has their preferences, but it’s not okay that he never made sure you were turned on or seemed to care if you were enjoying it. I wouldn’t be able to enjoy it if you weren’t.”

You nod, always knowing it wasn’t right too, “but he’s gone and what we just did was already better than all of those years combined. I wanted you to know, just in case I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“I’m not worried about that,” he says, rolling to his side toward you, “I can’t wait to figure out what you like together.”

A shiver runs down your spine as you picture trying all the things with him that you’ve been fantasizing about.

“That sounds good,” you murmur, “really good.”

His eyes dip to your lips and you think he might kiss you again but he cringes when he leans forward. “I need a shower.”

“Me too,” you reply, wishing you were brave enough to offer to take one together.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

Like most nights, you eat dinner together. After, you snuggle into him on the couch and the steady beat of his heart lulls you to sleep.

It’s dark when you wake to him kissing your forehead. “You okay down here or do you wanna go to bed?”

“Here,” you murmur sleepily, snuggling into his warmth.

“Okay,” he chuckles, lying back on the couch with you on top of him.

You wake to a cold, wet nose to the face and a dancing Hank. “C’mon bud, I’ll take you potty.”

But Bradley’s arms tighten around you when you try to get up, “No. Stay.”

You smile as you check your watch, “Oh! It’s quarter to 9. We told Jake and Reese we’d be there in 15 minutes!”

12 minutes later you’re on the way to Jake’s apartment to help move his things to Reese’s, and you text Reese to let her know.

Shae: We’ll be there in about 15, we both overslept, sorry!

Reese: Weird. In all the years I’ve known Roo, he’s never overslept.

Shae: We’re both early risers, I’m not sure what happened.

You know exactly what happened. You haven’t felt that safe and comfortable in years.

Reese: No worries and no rush, we’re still at my house.

You snort at that, knowing full well they took advantage of Drew being at his grandparents. It didn’t take long for you to see how crazy Reese and Jake are for each other; always teasing, always touching, exchanging heated looks and innuendos when they don’t think anyone is watching.

Shae: Sounds good, we’ll see you soon.

“They won’t be here for a little bit yet,” you say as Bradley pulls into the driveway of Jake’s rental.

“I wonder why,” Bradley says sarcastically as he shakes his head, assuming the same as you.

“Right?” You agree but understand. Something tells you it’s going to be the same for you and Bradley too. “We could make out like teenagers while we-“

He must be thinking the same as he turns your chin towards him and cuts your suggestion off with his lips on yours.

Goosebumps cover your body as he licks into your mouth languidly while his hand traces over your bare thigh. Your hand comes to cup his jaw, running your thumb over the scars there.

The way he’s so gentle and tentative makes you want to cry. As if he’s trying to apologize and make up for all the times that Chad wasn’t.

His hand continues further, over the fabric of your shorts and up your t-shirt, making you sigh when his fingertips ghost over your nipple straining against your sports bra.

Your sigh spurs him on and he returns, cupping your breast and rubbing his thumb back and forth over it.

The instantaneous need gives you the courage to touch him too. He jerks in surprise when he feels your hand tracing the seam of his shorts on his inner thigh.

Your eyes open and you pull away with a gasp as you cup his straining hard-on. “Oh my God. That-that’s not gonna fit.”

He chuckles as he leans in to kiss your jaw, his mustache scratching as he murmurs cockily, “It can and it will, after I make sure you’re good and ready of course.”

You shudder at his words, head falling back as he continues his journey across your neck.

He grunts and your pussy spasms in response when you slowly rub him up and down through his silky gym shorts.

“I fucking knew it!” Reese’s delighted laugh has you jumping apart, “I told you!”

“Yeah yeah,” Jake sighs as he walks up beside her, “you were right. Now give ‘em a minute.” Jake winks as he guides her into the house, still laughing.

You burst into laughter, knowing your face is as red as Bradley’s.

“Got a little carried away,” he says, laughing too, “sorry.”

You just shake your head and lean in for a kiss. “I don’t want to wait. I want it…tonight,” you whisper.

“Yeah?” He husks.

“Yeah,” you confirm, kissing him again before getting out of the Bronco.

“I’ll be in a minute,” he says before you close the door, head falling back against the rest as he waits for his body to calm down.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

Reese looks ready to burst when you get inside but she refrains from asking any questions.

You put her out of her misery when Bradley and Jake head over with Jake’s loaded truck.

“Last night,” you say, trying not to smile at the way her head whips toward you, “it just happened last night. I haven’t been holding out on you.”

“It’s okay if you were,” she replies, “but oh my God, you have no idea how happy this makes me.”

“Me too,” you smile.

“So is that why you guys overslept? Tired each other out last night?”

“No,” you shake your head, “but we did fall asleep on the couch together.”

“Did you…” she wiggles her eyebrows, “before you fell asleep on the couch?”

“No,” you blush, “we fooled around? I guess that’s what you’d call it when he got home yesterday afternoon. He said he’s happy to go at my pace.”

She nods, remembering what you told her about your limited and not-great sexual experience with Chad on a girls' night a while back.

“But I don’t want to wait,” you admit, “we’ve been dancing around this for months.”

“Yeah you have,” she laughs as you throw a wad of bubble wrap at her. “I’m happy for you both though.”

“Thank you,” you smile, “I’m happy for you too. I know Jake moving in was a big step.”

She nods. “It was, but it’s time. I think he might propose soon.”

“Really?” You ask, sounding surprised.

But you already know he’s going to since you helped him pick out the ring.

“Yeah,” she smiles, looking down at the ring from Andy on her right hand, “do you think it’s okay to keep this one on? Do you think it’ll bother Jake if I do? I’m planning on offering it to Drew when he’s older but…”

“I think it’s okay,” you answer truthfully, “I can’t imagine Jake would mind.”

He won’t. He already told you he won’t.

She nods, realizing the same.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

After pizza and beer as a thank you from Jake and Reese, Bradley drives you home later that evening.

Your nerves and excitement increase with every turn of the tires as you get closer. But his hand on your knee when he pulls into the driveway calms you instantly.

“We’re taking things at your pace,” he reminds you, “it’s okay if you change your mind.”

“I haven’t,” you murmur truthfully, “but I do need a shower.”

“Me too,” he agrees, “I’m all dusty.”

C’mon Shae. Do it.

“We could shower together?” You offer, face burning.

“Yeah?” He raises a brow and grins when you nod, “Alright.”

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

Your heart pounds as you follow him into the downstairs bathroom after taking care of Hank.

Before you can start second-guessing your decision, he’s kissing you, mind going blissfully blank.

His arm blindly reaches to flick on the water before he pulls your shirt over your head. Your bra goes next, then his shirt, followed by your shorts and his; all while kissing you, distracting you.

He hisses as he pulls you into the shower, “C-cold,” he smiles against your lips as he turns it up, “can I touch you?”

“Please,” you breathe, gasping when he turns you in his arms; he’s so hard and so big against your lower back.

“Tell me if you don’t like something, or want me to stop,” he rasps under your ear as his hands ghost over your thighs, stomach, and chest.

“I will,” you whisper, head falling against his chest.

The hot water runs over both your bodies as his hands explore yours; cupping both breasts first.

“Perfect,” he murmurs, cock twitching at your sigh as his calloused fingertips find your nipples, “somehow even prettier than I imagined. Can’t wait to have ‘em in my mouth, sucking, biting, whatever you like.”

You nod eagerly; it all sounds good.

One hand travels lower, down your stomach before gently running between your legs. A pleased hum leaves him at how wet you are. “Can’t wait to have my mouth here either,” his teeth scrape your neck as he mouths the sensitive skin, “can’t tell you how many times I’ve jerked off to the thought of eating your pussy.”

“Oh,” you whimper, “that’s what you think about?”

“Mhmm,” he confirms as he slowly circles your clit, “how good you’ll taste, how beautiful you’ll look when you cum, the sweet sounds you’ll make.”

“Yes,” you sigh, “I want it.”

“Thank you,” it’s his turn to sigh, sounding relieved like you were going to say no.

“But I want to taste you too,” you surprise yourself by saying.

“Fuck,” he groans as he starts to circle faster, “anything you want Shae.”

“I want…” you trail off as he has you hurdling toward release, “I want it all,” you bite your lip to stay quiet as you fall over the edge, legs shaking from the unexpected intensity.

“Beautiful,” he rasps when you relax into his arms.

“So are you,” you whisper, turning your head for a kiss before turning in his arms.

He grunts against your lips as your hand finds his cock, jerking once, twice, three times before you’re rewarded with his almost pained groan as ropes of cum land over your stomach and his.

He rests his forehead against yours, panting as you slow your strokes before releasing him and stepping even closer.

“That was-“

“Hot,” you whisper in awe, looking down at his release painting your skin.

“I was gonna say fast,” he sucks in a breath when you run your finger through his spend and bring it to your lips, “Fuck, Shae.”

“Is this okay?” You ask, wanting to taste it.

He just nods, cock already twitching to life as you suck your finger into your mouth, a choked sound leaving him at your hum.

“Let’s get cleaned up,” he clears his throat when you’re done, “so I can take you to bed and get you dirty again.”

“Okay,” you smile.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

“Lay back,” he says as he walks you back to his bed.

You take a deep breath and bravely drop your towel before doing as asked.

His eyes darken impossibly further as he takes in your body, “You’re perfect, Shae.”

You flush at his praise and put your foot up to stop him before he can crawl over you. “I wanna see you too.”

He nods and reaches for his towel. With a tug, it drops. So does your jaw.

“Jesus,” you whisper, taking in the miles of tanned skin and muscle before your land on his cock and widen.

“You can take it,” he says lowly, confidently making you shiver, “but not until I think you’re good and ready.”

He crawls over you, kissing any worries away before trailing down your body, making a pit stop at your breasts, finding out quickly that you like everything he does; biting, sucking, gentle pinching, and pulling.

“Roo-“ you gasp as you feel the pull between your legs as he does the same to your nipple, “I’m getting close.” You had no idea your breasts are so sensitive.

“Mmm,” he hums, making you whimper when he stops to kiss lower, “don’t worry, you’ll get there, just want to taste it when you cum.”

“Fuck,” you whine as he kisses your thighs, and cry out when he suddenly licks a line through your arousal. “Sorry,” you whisper, putting your hand over your mouth, embarrassed at your reaction.

It’s pulled away not a second later, “Hey,” he nips your thigh, “look at me.”

Your head pops up, face on fire.

“Forget everything that bastard told you,” he says lowly, almost scarily. “I want to hear every sound you make.

You nod.

“and if I think you’re holding back, I won’t stop until you can’t help it,”

You whimper as your head falls back. “Okay.”

“Okay,” he says before repeating what he just did, licking the same path and making you moan. “Good girl.”

Your eyes widen at the way you clench around nothing at his praise.

“Put your hands in my hair,” he murmurs against your clit, making you jolt, “guide me where you want me; tell me what feels good.”

“Okay-that!” You gasp as his tongue circles your clit.

He chuckles into your pussy as he continues.

Your hands find his hair and are tugging moments later as he pushes you over the edge with another cry.

“Whoa-what-again?” You pant as he goes right back to it once you’ve come down.

“Mhmm,” is all the answer you get as he continues, getting you off quickly again before he adds a finger, then two, and finally three.

Eventually, you lose track of how many times he gets you off; each one better than the last.

There’s not a thought in your mind as Bradley coaxes your body over the edge again and again.

When you can’t control the trembles wracking your body, Bradley finally relents and kisses his way back up.

“Ready?” He asks as he reaches for a condom from a new box.

You nod shakily, whimpering as he slides one on with a pained look.

“I-I know Reese probably told you I’m a ladies' man or whatever,” he says with a frown, “but I haven’t had sex in a long time; like a few years. I’ve gone on dates and all that but, I don’t know, it didn’t feel right.”

“It wouldn’t matter if you did,” you reply, reaching for his hand.

“It’s just-this may be over quickly,” he’s blushing.

“I don’t care,” you reply, pulling him down, “you’ve already blown my mind. I can’t feel my legs.”

He nods with a grin as he settles between them placing the head of his cock at your entrance before leaning over you.

“I’ll go slow. Tell me if it hurts,” he brushes his lips over yours as he slowly pushes in, “and I’ll stop. I’ll never hurt you.”

Hot tears unexpectedly prick your eyes at his words and the deeper meaning behind them.

“I know you won’t,” you murmur, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him.

True to his word, he goes slow. Pulling out after each inch and pushing in further each time. It’s a stretch, but it doesn’t hurt.

“Okay?” He asks, trembling too by the time he finally bottoms out.

“So good,” you whimper, wiggling your hips a little when you adjust, “more, Roo. Please.”

He shudders before pulling out to thrust back in, forcing your moans out with each stroke.

Your nails rake down his sweaty back as you urge him faster, surprised and delighted that another orgasm is building.

“I’m close,” you gasp when he shifts, pushing you that much closer.

“Yeah,” he pants, “get there for me. Just one more, c’mon.”

Your nails bite into his skin as you hurdle over the edge, pulling him with you when you tighten around him.

“Fuck, Shae,” he chokes as his hips stutter to a stop, cock twitching inside you as he fills the condom. “I love you,” he whispers hoarsely, “God, I love you.”

The words register for you both at the same time, making you both freeze.

Your already racing heart beats even faster, but not for the reason you expected.

“Shae,” he starts, burying his face in your neck.

“Look at me,” you whisper. He won’t meet your eye when he eventually lifts his head, “Please?”

The plea in your tone is what makes him finally look and you dive head-first into those brown eyes you’ve wanted to drown in.

“I love you too.”

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

A/N: Not Reese throwing Bradley’s words when he busted her and Jake making out back at him 😂 also if the ‘I love Yous’ seem fast, remember they’ve been living together for 5 months…getting to know each other and falling in love before they ever did anything. I hope y’all liked it.

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[annab-nana]

omg i can so see eddie saying this so eddie being the sick one and “you must love me a lot.” “obviously, you idiot.” “so now you’re insulting a sick person?”

he so would

warnings: not proofread, mentions of vomiting (eddie says puke once)

❀ masterlist ❀

"i can take that if you're done," you offered before grabbing the bowl from him. he ate more than he did yesterday, but not nearly as much as he normally would.

you twisted to place the bowl down on his bedside table before turning back to him, the back of your hand finding his forehead without much forethought. it's almost instinctual at this point.

"still got a fever?" eddie inquired, his big brown doe eyes peeping up at you from where he lay.

you hesitated a moment before giving him your diagnosis. "i- yeah, i think so, but you aren't as warm as you were earlier."

"so i'm on the mend?" he asked with a hint of excitement in his tone.

"you're definitely better than you were yesterday," you told him as you moved your hand to rake your fingers through his curls, pushing them back off his slightly sweaty forehead. "how do you feel?"

"i dunno," he mumbled, "not as hot as i was, but still warm, you know? and i don't feel like i'm going to immediately puke after eating so that's good, right?"

"it is." you continued to run your fingers through his hair before his eyes fluttered shut in contentment.

he let out a sigh before rolling over into your lap, hugging your thigh close to him as if it were a pillow. "you must love me a lot."

you couldn't hold back the dry chuckle that escaped you. "obviously, you idiot."

he side-eyed you from your lap while bringing his eyebrows down to a furrow. "oh, so now you're insulting a sick person, huh?" your giggle made him feel way better than any medicine he had taken so far. "well, since you're going to be making fun of the ill, you could at least properly cuddle me."

with a playful roll of your eyes, you scooted down and once you're settled, eddie slipped in to rest his head on your chest. again, your fingers found his hair and the boy hummed against your neck after his lips pressed a kiss there.

"just so you're aware, i love you a lot too."

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[chosos-mascara]

little miracle

𝙩𝙤𝙟𝙞 𝙛𝙪𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙜𝙪𝙧𝙤 𝙭 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 - (drabble) following an infertility diagnosis, you find out you're pregnant.

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 - hurt/comfort, angst to begin with, fluff, pregnancy, mentions of infertility 0.5k words

"-so, you have only a few viable eggs remaining." The doctor's words merged into an almost incoherent mess as you'd tried to focus, too disappointed within yourself to listen. Toji's hand reached to land upon your own, a gentle squeeze over the skin in an attempt of comfort, though the physical touch of the person you'd felt a failure to had instead heightened the anxiety bubbling deep down. 

You hadn't retained much information past that point, the appointment followed by a silent walk to the car. A year of unsuccessful attempts at extending your family, now explained.  "Hey," The space in the car had felt stagnant, a tight and suffocating atmosphere choking you, eyes watering, yet no energy to cry. "It's okay, we'll figure it out." Toji had done well to hide his own downcast emotion, however after the time spent by his side, you'd understood the queues he'd displayed, even if only minute changes in body language. 

"I'm sorry." The first two words you'd spoken to him since the news, a quiet, defeated voice from your dry throat. His arm had stretched outward, hand on the back of your head as he pulled you toward him, eyes pressing to his shoulder while he held you close over the car's console.  "Don't be. We already got one brat to worry 'bout. That's enough for me." Toji's voice vibrated within his chest, deep and low against your cheek as you'd rested more comfortably.  "It's not for me, though." You explained, though he'd already known your wants. "I want to give you a baby, and Megumi a sibling." "Don't need anything, sweetheart. Just you." His lips met your forehead as time stood still in the confines of the car, quiet moments shared against one another.

Two lines. An unbelievable achievement only a week after the doctor's appointment that had changed everything for you - a week off work spent in bed, feeling every emotion humanely possible. Between shaking fingers you were given possibly the best news you'd ever receive: that this month's attempts had finally given success. Tears had ran over your cheeks, a smile ballooning across your face as you stared at the pink lines, hand grazing over the skin of your stomach. 

"You're takin' your sweet time in there!" Toji banged a fist against the bathroom door, startling you. Laughing, you reached a hand to the lock, opening the door to reveal your wide-eyed smile and the stick between your fingers. He'd had an annoyed expression, brows furrowed before shifting to confusion at your abrupt exit and sudden happy demeanour following a week of difficulty and depression. But when green eyes fell to the plastic between your fingers, making out the two lines side by side, all anger had washed from his face, instead utter shock. 

"You're pregnant?" His hands flew to look at the test closer, taking it to inspect as you'd nodded profusely. The scar over his lips stretched as he grinned, a long exhale of laughter before reaching to you as the information had processed within his mind, hands cupping both cheeks to tilt your head upward, a kiss over your forehead, another over your nose, before lips grazed over your own. Toji kissed you deeply, face pressed harshly against yours and hands gripping you tightly. Your heart had raced within your chest, stomach fluttering at his display of affection.

[lixzey]

Heart to Heart

super thanks to @lilmaymayy for all the help 🤍

ONE. TWO. THREE.

warnings: mentions of death, car accident, hospitalization, and surgery.

wc: 2.8k

Y/N L/N had it all. A perfect life, a loving family, friends, you name it.

She's a beautiful woman with a heart and soul to match it. But, she's dying.

Her heart, it's killing her. She has everything, except a heart donor. Her heart has a hole, and it's keeping her from living her life. 

“M-Mom..I-I can't breathe, it hurts...” Then everything faded to black.

Y/N woke up in a room with clean white walls, crisp white bed sheets and the sickening smell of disinfectant. The only thing she could hear was the silent beeping of the monitor, she was in the hospital—again. 

Y/N closed her eyes shut, she didn't want to be in this place. She had already spent all her life in hospitals, she didn't want to die in one. Then, she heard hushed voices—one of which was her mother.

“Doc, is my daughter okay? Will she be okay?” her mom asked, her voice shaky.

“I'm sorry, Mrs. L/N.” 

“H-how long?” 

“Six months—a year, if we're lucky.” 

Y/N's mom let out a shaky exhale, “Is...is there any other way?” 

“The only way your daughter can survive is a heart transplant. Your daughter's condition is very critical, and there may be some complications if the transplant isn't done as soon as possible. That six months? It could be possible that she'd die today, tomorrow, next week, next month. Anything can happen, and if I were you I'd find a donor as soon as possible.” Then the doctor left, leaving Y/N's mom to break down silently. 

“M-Mom?” Y/N asked in a hoarse dry voice.

Her mom turned around, and forced a smile—her cheeks were stained with fresh tears and her eyes were red and puffy—probably from being sleep deprived. 

“Mom, am I going to die?” Y/N whispered, her voice breaking. Her mom quickly rushed to her side, hugging her tight. 

“Mom, I'm- I don't wanna die! I can't die! I want to chase my dreams, Mom! I want to live-”

“It's going to be alright, sweetheart. I won't let you die, I won't.”

Y/N felt the whole world crumble. She was too young to die. She was barely even in her early twenties—she was only twenty three—and already spent her life in hospitals. She wasn't even finished with college, all she wanted to do ever since she was a little girl was to be  a lawyer, and now with her declining condition it would be a miracle to reach 24. She isn't supposed to die, she was supposed to live her dreams—not be stuck in a hospital room or six feet under ground. 

It has been two weeks since Y/N's diagnosis. And still, she had no donor. It was honestly nerve wracking—simply  knowing that your days are limited, Y/N had no idea if she'd be alive the next day or even the next hour. It was torture, her heart and chest aching every minute of day. She couldn't get out of her bed—or even eat for that matter. 

Y/N L/N had a lot of things on her list she wanted to do. She had dreams, big fucking dreams. Y/N dreamt of becoming one of the most prestigious lawyers the world has ever seen. She was a bright kid growing up—she always had good grades and usually never let her illness get the best of her, but when it did she made sure to still make an effort to complete each and every homework assignment. And now because of her illness, she'd lose all of the good things in her life. There were so many  things Y/N still wanted to do, and one of them was falling in love. 

Y/N sighed, she was tired of her life being a complete opposite of what she wanted. She grabbed her phone from her nightstand and scrolled through her tiktok, hoping for a bit of good news around the world—like world peace or maybe mother earth is healing. 

“Timothée Chalamet's girlfriend, dead on the spot in a car crash!”

“Poor guy.” Y/N muttered as she read the comments on the video. Why was life that cruel? Sure, Y/N didn't know the guy, but based on the comments he loved his girlfriend. 

“Y/N, darling! It's time for dinner! You still need to take your medicine!” Y/N's mom called from downstairs. Y/N slowly stood up, her vision was suddenly blurry—her chest tightened and her heart felt like it was stabbed—this wasn't like any episode she ever had.  She fell to the floor with a loud thud, her eyes fighting to stay open. 

The last thing Y/N heard was her mom screaming for help before everything went pitch black.

Timothée woke up with a terrible feeling, like something had happened—or something bad was going to happen. He had just gotten home from Paris fashion week and he was still jet lagged. Timothée brushed the feeling off, yawning as he got up from his bed, walking to his bathroom to get ready for the day—even if he had nothing to do. 

Suddenly his phone rang, it was Zendaya. 

“What's up, Z?“ Timothée asked, his voice still groggy. 

“Are you okay? Fuck, I can't imagine what you're feeling right now, Tim. Condolence-” Timothée's eyes widened, “What the hell are you talking about, Z?” 

“Oh shit, you don't know yet?” 

“What do I don't know, Zendaya? You're scaring me.” 

“I'm so sorry, Tim. Check the news.” Timothée quickly ended the call. He opened every social media account that he had, until he found the news.

“Timothée Chalamet's girlfriend, dead on the spot in a car crash!”

Timothée felt his whole world shatter. He felt numb as tears prickled against his eyes, beginning to stream down his face. Timothée called his girlfriend's best friend, frantically asking what hospital she was taken to. He grabbed his car keys and bolted out of his house. Timothée was shaking, he wanted to kill whoever crashed into his girlfriend's car. He drove as fast as he could, his vision was getting blurred by tears—but he didn't care. He needed to get to her. He needed to get to his Kaylee. 

As soon as Timothée arrived at the hospital, he parked his car—not caring if it was too far from the entrance—and ran toward the hospital.

“Where's Kaylee Jenkins!?” Timothée practically screamed at the nurse on duty.

“Timothée.” He looked back and saw his and Kaylee's friends, Tom and Hannah. 

“Where is she!?” Timothée roared, grabbing Tom's collar angrily. 

“Calm down, Timothée!” Hannah snapped at him, pulling him off of Tom. 

“How am I supposed to calm down!? My girlfriend is dead! The love of my fucking life is dead! Tell me where the fuck she is before I fucking lose it!” 

“Timothée Hal!” 

“Tell me!” Timothée yelled again. 

Tom sighed, feeling hurt for his friend,  “Take him to Kaylee. I'll wait for Zendaya and Kaylee's family.” 

Hannah led Timothée to the morgue. As soon as she opened the door, Timothée saw her—the only body inside of the morgue—covered by a white sheet. He let out a shaky breath before he slowly lifted the cloth covering Kaylee's face. 

His beautiful Kaylee, bruised and bloody.

“I'll leave you alone for a bit.” Hannah patted him on his shoulder, before walking out and giving him time with his beloved. 

Timothée stared at Kaylee, the woman he loved for three years, the woman he wanted to marry—gone—taken away from him. He touched her lips that he always kissed, her nose that always scrunched when she got annoyed, and her once rosy cheeks that he loved to pinch. He kissed her forehead, for the last time.

“I love you, Kaylee.” Timothée whispered, tears streaming from his green eyes. “You're so unfair, Kaylee. You said that we'd be together forever, you said you'd never leave me, but you did. You promised we'd grow old together, that we'd build a life together....” Timothée sobbed, “I will never forget you, my love. I love you so fucking much, you're the only girl I will ever love like this.” 

Y/N woke up back in the hospital. Her mother was smiling from ear to ear, “What happened, Mom?” Y/N asked. 

“You fainted again. Don't worry, you're okay. You finally have a heart donor!” her mother smiled, “You're going to live!” 

“Really?” Y/N almost squealed, “H-How? What happened?” 

Y/N's mom softy smiled and kissed her daughter's forehead. “Sadly, another girl passed away, but her parents agreed to donate her heart for you. But you're going to live, sweetheart. You're going to live and be able to grow old.” she whispered. 

“Thank you, Mom.” 

Y/N finally felt hope for one, hope for her future, hope for her life. She finally had a chance to live, without worrying if one day her heart would just stop. It was a miracle—a chance to know how her life would turn out. A gift she'd be thankful for the rest of her life. 

Y/N asked her mother who was her heart donor. Her mother said it was from a girl who died in a car accident. Y/N was first on the list of donees, and her mother had already talked to her donor's parents—they agreed, because somehow they could feel their daughter's presence even if she's gone, because I'd have her heart. Everything was ready, she would be operated on as soon as possible.  

After the operation, Y/N woke up with her mother beside her. 

“Mom?” Y/N croaked out. 

“Y/N.” Her mother smiled at her, tears were forming in her mother's eyes. 

“Why are you crying, mom?” 

“I thought I'd lose you forever, Y/N/N.” her mother sniffled, “I'm so happy, darling. You're alive and well, what more can a mother ask for?”

After a week, Y/N finally went home. She'd continue her recovery at home, and day by day she was getting better. 

Six months later.

“Y/N, darling? Go get ready, we're going somewhere.”  

“Where are we going?” Y/N asked. 

“The parents of the girl who donated your heart wants to meet you.”

“Oh, okay. I'll go get ready.” Y/N smiled at her mother before turning to get ready. 

She was going to meet the parents of the person who gave her a chance to live again. 

Y/N and her mother drove an hour and a half to a house in the Bronx. As soon as Y/N got out of the car, she saw a man with beautiful green eyes and chocolate brown curls looking at her. Her heart suddenly started pounding in her chest. The man gave her a small smile, before walking away. He looked miserable—like he hasn't slept in days—months even. 

“Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins.” Y/N's mother greeted an older couple—they were around their late forties.

“Oh nonsense! Call us Marian and Adam.” the woman—Marian—smiled warmly. “And you must be Y/N, right?” Y/N nodded, “Yes, ma'am.” Suddenly, both Marian and Adam hugged her tightly. Y/N stumbled back a bit, but she let them hug her. She assumed it felt comforting—maybe because they could hear their daughter's heart inside her. 

“Sorry, I hope you don't mind,” the older woman apologised as she pulled away from Y/N, “It's just, it feels like I'm hugging Kaylee again and-” 

“No worries Marian,” Y/N smiled, “You can hug me as long as you want. I may not be Kaylee, but I can be like a daughter to you.” 

Marian started to sob, “Thank you, Y/N. It means a lot to me, to us.” 

Then suddenly, the man who Y/N saw earlier came up to her and hugged her tight. She didn't know what was happening, the man was hugging her tight—tighter than what Marian and Adam did. But, Y/N didn't pull away. His hug felt like coming home. Y/N felt her heart beat rapidly, like banging drums. 

After a few minutes—yes, minutes—the man pulled away from Y/N. The two locked eyes, and Y/N felt time stood still around her, like everything was a movie. 

Marian and Adam led Y/N and her mother to their backyard. They talked for a bit—told her to take care of herself and always stay safe. Of course they'd say that, because their daughter's heart was inside her.  

Y/N found out the name of the man who hugged her. He was Timothée Chalamet, Kaylee's boyfriend of three years. He's a famous actor, but Y/N didn't know him. How would she even know him? She spent all her life inside hospitals—she really didn't have the time to watch movies or Hollywood dramas. 

“Hey, it's been great meeting you and,  uh-this may be an awkward o-or forward question, but, uh-do you think I can get your number? I'd like to get to know you better.” Timothée asked, a hopeful look plastered on his face. 

“Yeah sure, it's no problem.”

Ever since Y/N and Timothée exchanged numbers, they’ve been texting each other back and forth. It even became Y/N’s routine to start her day with sending him a “good morning” and ending it with a reply to Timothee’s “goodnight”. 

Until one day Timothée texted her, asking if she'd like to go out with him. 

Hey

What's up, Tim?

Do you have plans tomorrow night?

Uh, none that I could think of. Why?

Can I ask you out?

What?

On a date. Or maybe just hang out? I don't know, we can do whatever you want. 

When Y/N read his offer to go on a date and she squealed into her pillow, kicking her feet up in the air at the excitement rumbling in her stomach. She knew it was wrong. He was-or is still grieving, he just lost his girlfriend of three years in an instant. But with his charming words, his sexy voice, mesmerizing green eyes, and his perfect face she couldn't help a slight crush forming. She was talking to a celebrity, and it felt like a dream—like something you'd see only in movies. 

“Mom, Timothée just asked me out.” 

“What? Really? Y/N, that's amazing! You're going on a date for the very first time!” her mom teased. 

Y/N has never exactly been on a date before but this is how it would be like, right? 

The next day, Y/N got ready for her date—or to hang out with Timothée, as a friend— or maybe something more? hopefully anyways. She was giddy, she was going on a date with a handsome guy who just so happened to be a famous actor. Who wouldn't be excited? Y/N wore a simple off-shoulder blue dress that flourished just above her knees and some white strappy wedge heels. Her hair was braided to the side with some simple lip gloss, foundation, and blush for makeup. 

After waiting for what felt like hours, their doorbell rang. It's him, he's actually here, picking her up for an entire day together. When Y/N opened the door, she saw him wearing a white shirt under a leather jacket paired with denim jeans. His hair was perfectly messy—Y/N wanted to run her fingers through his curls so badly. Timothée Chalamet is undeniably handsome, as if he was carved by the gods. 

“Y-you look beautiful, Y/N.”

“Thanks, you look good too.” Y/N chuckled nervously. Timothée led Y/N to his car and opened the door for her. Timothée took Y/N to one of his favourites. Buvette Gastrotheque—a small french café in West Village. The place was cosy, quaint, and there weren't a lot of people. Sitting down at a small table, Timothée ordered the COQ au Vin while Y/N got the Salade de Poulet. They paired it off with red wine, and chocolate mousse for dessert. As they waited for their food to arrive, Timothée and Y/N talked about life, interests, favourite foods, and surprisingly—they had a lot in common. 

“Y/N?” 

“Hm?” 

“I know we've only been talking for a month, but i need to tell you something.” Timothée grabbed her hand, intertwining it with his, “I'm….. well, uh- starting to see you a little differently.. You know? I just-” he sighs, “I feel something for you, Y/N. And I wanna know if you would ever feel the same way.”

Y/N felt the world around her stop, her eyes locking with his. Ever since he asked for her number she knew she was going to love him, but she didn't feel as happy as she thought she would be. Instead, she felt a pit slowly sinking to her stomach. 

It was wrong. 

Absolutely wrong.

It's been less than a year since Kaylee passed and he's already moving on, what if he doesn't actually like her but rather the heart she now wore. Y/N was speechless. She couldn't utter a word. She wanted to say she was slowly getting feelings for him too, but she knew she couldn’t. 

“Timothée....”

“Y/N, please. Think about it. Give me an answer when you're ready. Just....please give me a chance.”

@lovemelikecrazyiloveyoucrazy @helens3amstuff @gatoenlaciudad

[doctorbeth]

Get Well Teddy's own trip to the doctor

Teddy belongs to a 3 year old who was very concerned by his run-in with the puppy. Even before her mom wrote to me, the little girl believed Teddy was at the doctor and being well taken care of. She thought Teddy would be quite comfy, because he clearly had been to a doctor before based on his belly band-aid. Here is his diagnosis photo:

And here is what he was supposed to look like:

Clearly, Teddy needed his little head pouch reattached, eye socket repairs with new fur, and two new eyes (they had his original eyes but they were too damaged to reinstall). As time is of the essence particularly when a three year old is involved, we did not schedule Teddy for a spa, just surgery.

So... he came to the hospital and I had near perfect fabric match for his eye sockets. Coloring his new eyes took a little time (they need to dry thoroughly before being installed and as it was rainy here, it took a little longer), but within the week he was ready to fly home. Here he is, just before he flew home to MN:

His person's mom wrote:

Oh my goodness, thank you!!!!! We will have one for pleased little girl.

and when he made it home, the family wrote:

    I wanted to thank you for restoring our F’s teddy bear, I could barely get her to bed last night because she couldn’t stop hugging him & talking to him. You did excellent work & it brought a lot of joy! Cheers

[misshoneyimhome]

250 FOLLOWERS FESTIVAL

“Shhh… I’m here” I Frederik Andersen

Summary: Being Frederik Andersen's girlfriend isn't always a walk in the park. Especially when he's been through health problems and struggles to open up about his feelings. But when you're deeply in love, there's only one question that truly matters.

Tropes & warnings; establishd relationship; soft!Freddie; no warnings;

Other notes; Wrapping up the "250 FOLLOWERS CELEBRATION" with some (short) good old-fashioned Freddie fluff 🌺 Thank you all so much for joining in the festivities! It's been an absolute pleasure! 🥂

Word count; 1.5K

➼｡ﾟ

On a night in late February, Freddie shifted in bed, his breaths coming in shallow gasps. Beads of sweat were glistening on his forehead, his hands trembling as he clutched the sheets. The nightmares had returned, tormenting him relentlessly in the dead of night.

Sensing his distress, you stirred awake beside him, and with a soft tone of voice, you reached out, your hand finding his damp skin, offering a reassuring touch. "Freddie," you whispered gently, trying to bring him back to the present. "It's alright. Shh... I'm here."

His eyes flickered open, fear and confusion clouding them, as it took him a moment to realise you were there, to see the familiar outline of your face illuminated by the moonlight streaming through the curtains.

"Y/N..." His voice cracked, his throat dry from the remnants of his nightmare. "I... I had a nightmare..”

You did your best to pull him into your arms, holding him close, providing the warmth and security he desperately craved. His large frame enveloped by your small embrace. “Hey, you know you don't have to face this on your own," you murmured, planting a soft kiss on his forehead. "I'm right here with you, Freddie. Always."

The larger goaltender clung to you tighter, seeking comfort in the safety of your embrace. "I'm scared," he confessed, his voice barely audible.

And you knew just how difficult it was for Freddie to acknowledge his fears, to allow himself to be open and vulnerable. He had always been stoic, keeping his emotions tightly held, even from you at times. But you had persisted, gently encouraging him to share, and reassured him that it was safe to lower his guard, especially with you.

It hadn’t exactly been a straightforward journey for the two of you. There were times when he pushed you away, his defences solid as he battled his inner demons. Yet, you remained unwavering, refusing to abandon him, believing in him even when he couldn't find belief in himself.

It had been some of the fiercest battles between the two of you. Despite only being in a committed relationship for just about two years, it had truly tested your limits. Yet, interestingly enough, it had also drawn you a lot closer to each other.

You emphasised that your choice to be with him wasn't based on his career, but solely on your love for him. And this had encouraged him to gradually open up. Step by step, he let down his guard, sharing his fears and doubts with you. It was a journey marked by setbacks and trials, but with each step forward, your bond deepened, fortified by the trust and intimacy you cultivated together.

And as he trembled in your embrace, his barriers crumbling beneath the weight of his nightmares, you held him tight, grateful for the progress you'd made. Though, you knew there would still be obstacles ahead, moments of uncertainty and apprehension, you were confident you could face whatever challenges lay ahead with each other's support.

"I know you’re scared,” you replied softly, your own heart heavy with empathy for the vulnerability in his voice. "But you're strong, Freddie. You've battled through so much already. And I know you can overcome this too."

As he gradually began to relax, you couldn't help but reflect on the journey you both had endured. The uncertainty, the fear, and the relentless determination that had led you to this moment.

Since Freddie's diagnosis with the blood clot issues, it had been a challenging journey. The uncertainty of whether he'd ever play hockey again had loomed over both of you like a shadow. Yet, through it all, you remained steadfast by his side, offering unwavering support and love.

There had been countless nights like this, where nightmares shattered his sleep, leaving him shaken and disoriented. And each time, you had been there to dispel the darkness, reminding him that he wasn't alone.

Minutes passed in silence, interrupted only by the steady rhythm of your breaths and the gentle reassurance you whispered into his ear. Eventually, his heartbeat slowed, his body relaxing against yours as sleep reclaimed him.

You held him tightly, aware of the turmoil in his head but resolute in your commitment to face any challenges together. As the night enveloped you in its quiet embrace, you knew that together, you were stronger than any obstacle that may come your way.

**

The next evening, as the moon once again cast its gentle glow through the window, Freddie's demeanour had shifted. The tension from the previous night had dissipated, replaced by a quiet determination tinged with nervous anticipation.

Seated together in the cozy embrace of the evening during a romantic dinner at your shared home, every detail spoke volumes of intimacy and love. The dining table was adorned with flickering candles, their warm light dancing across delicate china and sparkling silverware. A bouquet of fresh flowers graced the centre, their sweet fragrance mingling with the aroma of the meal you had prepared together.

It wasn’t particularly anything out of the ordinary, as Freddie had a tendency to try and make up for his distressful behaviour through nothing but romance.

However, as you both savoured the delicious meal, Freddie suddenly took a deep breath, his gaze meeting yours with unwavering intensity. Flashing him a sweet smile, you waited patiently for him to speak his mind. 

"Y/N," he began, his voice steady but tinged with vulnerability. "There's something I want to ask you."

Your heart quickened slightly, feeling the weight of his words as you watched him closely, a sense of anticipation filling the air between you.

"I've been thinking a lot," Freddie continued, his fingers nervously intertwining with yours. "About us, about our future together."

A smile spread across your face, warmth flooding your chest at the sincerity in his words. Yet you weren’t entirely sure where he was going with it.

"I know I haven't always been great at expressing myself," he confessed, his gaze briefly drifting away before returning to meet yours. "But you've been my rock, through thick and thin. And I can't imagine facing life's challenges without you by my side."

The tender admission stirred a rush of emotion within you, your heart swelling with love for the man sitting before you. "Freddie, you don't have to say this," you assured him, reaching out to cup his cheek gently. "I just want you to be happy."

But Freddie's determination persisted, a glint of resolve in his eyes as he took another steadying breath. "I know , Y/N, but there's something more I need to say," he insisted, his voice soft yet resolute.

With bated breath, you waited quietly, hanging onto his every word, captivated by the vulnerability he was revealing.

"I've come to realise that I've held back too much, that I've let fear keep me from fully expressing how I feel," Freddie confessed, his gaze locking onto yours with unwavering intensity. "But I don't want to do that anymore. I want to be honest with you, to show you just how much you mean to me."

Tears welled in your eyes at his heartfelt confession, the depth of his emotions washing over you like a tidal wave. "Freddie..."

Taking a deep breath, Freddie reached into his pocket, producing a small velvet box. And with a determined yet trembling hand, he rose from his seat and walked over to your side of the table. There, bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through the window, he knelt beside you, his eyes never leaving yours.

With another deep breath, he opened the box, revealing a delicate ring nestled within its plush confines. The glimmer of the candle lights danced upon the polished diamond.

Taken aback by his actions, your breath caught in your throat as you beheld the ring, its beauty only surpassed by the love and sincerity radiating from Freddie's gaze. Every line and curve of the ring seemed to speak of his devotion, a silent hint of how he’d chosen it carefully and with a lot fo thought.

"Y/N Y/L/N," Freddie began, his voice a gentle whisper, "will you marry me?"

Emotion swelled within you, a flood of joy and gratitude threatening to overwhelm your senses. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you nodded, unable to find the words to express the depth of your love for him.

"Y-yes, Freddie," you managed to choke out, your voice barely above a whisper. "Yes, I will marry you."

A radiant smile spread across Freddie's face, illuminating the room with its warmth as he slipped the ring onto your finger. It fit perfectly, a symbol of the bond that bound your hearts together.

“It’s not too soon?” He questioned nervously, hints in his eyes of concern he’d scared you away.

But you simply shook your head. “No, not at all,” you chuckled lightly. “Freddie with all we’ve been through, I can’t imagine being with anyone else.”

And in that moment, as you sealed the engaging a kiss, and held each other close, surrounded by the quiet beauty of the night, you knew that your love was a force to be reckoned with. Gazing into each other's eyes, filled with love and promise, you knew that your journey together was just beginning, a path paved with endless possibilities and boundless love. 

[mysafehaneul]

Timestamp! Aquamarine Au!

Wonwoo x Reader

Part of this Series.

Angst, Hurt comfort, a child and a dog and some ice-cream.

TW: Mention of Chondrosarcoma.

12:31am:

You found yourself leaning against the kitchen counter, hands still gripping the smooth slab as you watched the water slowly dry in the sink. Your gaze was fixated on the droplets that fell and scattered; your fingertips still damp from washing your cup earlier.

The evening dress clung to your body, a reminder of the office event you had attended on behalf of your father. A wave of sadness washed over you, the ache in the lump of your throat intensifying as your eyes stung with unshed tears. Memories played in your head, and life didn't feel the same ever since you found out about

your father's diagnosis with Chondrosarcoma. The feeling of impending loss loomed over you, lurking in the corner, ready to impose itself on you at any moment.

It had been two days since you lost your appetite, preoccupied with your father's condition and the transition of the company's management. Meanwhile, Noel was away for the summer with Jeonghan and Victor and their son, and your daughter was about to start preschool. Everything seemed to be falling into place, yet the taste of the tea you had just drank still lingered on your tongue.

As you stood there lost in your thoughts, you felt sturdy yet careful footsteps approaching you. The familiar scent of his being, fresh from a pre-bed shower, reached you before his arms wrapped around your waist. His hot breath on your neck sent shivers down your spine as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. His lips left a tingling sensation as they moved to speak.

"Everything will be alright," he whispered, his voice a comforting reassurance in the midst of uncertainty.

You drew in a breath, feeling your chest constricted as your brows scrunched in distress. Despite your efforts to control your voice, it still came out tight. "My father is dying, Won. What could possibly become alright?"

"Y/N," Wonwoo stood straight, pulling you closer to his chest as his hand gently caressed the top of your head, your head now resting against his shoulder. "Don't say that. You know I talked with Doctor Jung, and he's hopeful that there is still a chance. If we go forward with the treatment, then he can…"

"I know that, but at what cost, Wonwoo?" Your voice shook, tears streaming down your face. "He's 70 years old, and he refuses it. He says he'd rather live out his days than lease them in exchange for pain. And I don't understand what's wrong with my mother that she's supporting him in this."

Your knees wobbled, but Wonwoo tightened his grip, carefully sitting down on the floor with his legs crossed and placing your shaking body on his lap. He pressed kisses on top of your head, then nuzzled his forehead against your back, his heart breaking at seeing you like this – his strong wife who always pushed through no matter what hurdles life threw at her.

"How can they be so selfish? Why didn't they think of me? Doesn't what I want matter?"

"Your points are valid, Y/N, and I know that," Wonwoo began, gently removing your hand from your face to look at you, providing reassurance. Mascara ran down your eyes, leaving a trace in its wake, and your lipstick was slightly smudged. The sight made him hate himself for being unable to take away your pain.

With downcast eyes, you spoke, your voice filled with childlike innocence that left no doubt that even though your daughter took after him, she inherited all her mannerisms from you. "But I need my father. I'll always need my father. I can't fathom the day where I pick up my phone and dial his number, and he won't be there to pick up after the second ring and tell me, 'Don't worry, I'll take care of it,' Wonwoo. I hate to think about it. Even a thought like that makes me feel like someone has taken the roof off my head and left me in a room surrounded by walls."

Wonwoo could feel a lump arising in his throat as well. He reached out to kiss your tears, but you moved your head and buried your face in the crook of his neck, circling your arms tightly around him. He shut his eyes and did the same.

"Why do I have to be the one always losing people around me? Why can't I–"

"Please don't finish that sentence, please, Y/N," his voice wobbled as he tightened his embrace.

You let your emotions take over, and the sobs soon turned into silent tears. During that time, your husband silently rocked you, rubbing your back and planting kisses periodically. You didn't know how long you both sat there, but the night had surely grown darker, and his hair was dry.

When his voice hushed, "There will be times when life makes us realize that our mortality is the ultimate and unescapable fact. Thus, it makes it necessary for us to live it while we can. Instead of crying, fighting, and complaining, I think you should spend time with your father and make the most out of it so that you don't have any regrets again about the things unsaid and the opportunity to make new memories with him and our kids."

You shook your head in understanding. "Okay."

"Okay."

You wiped your face with the back of your hand and moved away from his neck, his eyes trained on you with the same gaze as the night in London where he proposed to you.

"Since when did you become so philosophical?" you gave him a small smile.

Catching on to your attempt to lighten the mood, he said, "Just ever since I married this woman. You may know her very well. Or Maybe it's a girl-dad effect."

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head at his antics, a small smile gracing both of your lips. You leaned in and planted a kiss at the corner of his lips, pulling back as both of your foreheads rested against each other.

"Have faith, my love. Let's try and talk with him about the treatment together, hmm?"

"Hmm."

You took a breath as you were about to move off and go change your dress. The pitter-patter of small feet and four paws slowly rushed down the hall.

"You didn't put her to bed?" you asked, your eyes still closed. "I did," both of your heads still connected.

"Hush, Denny, you're making too much noise. You're gonna wake papa and mama up," the voice was now coming from the other side of the kitchen island as both of you were hidden from plain sight. "I am going to grab the chair and get the ice-cream, but don't bark, okay?"

"How is she going to move the chair?" you whispered to your husband.

"That's what I also want to know."

There was a little screech from the dragging on the floor, then a little huff resounded. "This is heavy," the cute voice concluded. There was silence for a few seconds when the patter against the floor resumed.

You both exchanged looks when Iris opened the pantry and brought out the kitchen step stool. With a look of triumph written across her face, she made her way to the other side of the kitchen where the fridge, as well as the two of you, were sitting, with Denny wagging his tail, giving the telltale sign that this was not the first time they were doing this and he was well aware of what was about to come.

"We wouldn't need this if Oppa were here," she said, looking at Denny, when you said, "Is that right?" making her startled and drop the tool. "Hello Iris, fancy seeing you here way past your bedtime."

Your daughter looked at you, then at her father, eyes widened. "Mama, Papa."

You raised your brows in acknowledgement, Wonwoo's failed suppressed chuckle slipping past. "What are you doing with that, baby girl?" he said.

She moved away from the tool and approached where both of you were sitting and said, "Papa, Denny woke me up and he wanted ice cream."

Wonwoo looked at you and then at Denny before amusing his daughter, "Is that right, Denny?" Denny, none the wiser, gave a bark.

"Well, if Denny wants it, then we can give it to him. You can go to bed."

"Noo," she yelped, then looked down and pouted. "So did I."

You and Wonwoo exchanged amused looks as he said, "Hmm, ice cream does sound like a good idea. What do you say, Mama?"

You couldn't help but chuckle as both of you got up. You wiped your face with the kitchen towel and reached out for the ice cream bowls.

When Iris asked, "What were you guys doing on the floor?"

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AN: I have an exam tomorrow but I am kinda sad, and can't take this scene out of my head, Its cringe might delete it later. I know I must focus on the cheol fic but ya know the same'ol writter's bloc. Wish me luck for my exam.