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#not like physical pain. it’s all. up there.
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God, the intimacy of Astarion feeding from you.
Astarion drinking from your neck as he pulls your body closer to his in bed, his chest up against your back, his arms wrapped around your waist. It's a casual thing, now, his whispered can I? and your answering nod, as much a part of your bedtime routine as your bath or his curl care. You sigh as his fangs pierce your skin and his fingers flex against your stomach. His breath hitches when the taste of you hits his tongue, and that's familiar too, the physicality of it, the noises he makes low in his throat as he drinks, the way he grows warmer against you as your blood begins to flow through his veins. Nothing else makes you feel so heady, so intoxicated- so comforted.
Astarion drinking from your wrist when he’s starving for it and can’t wait to get you more comfortable. Pulling him into an alleyway one night on the way home from the Elfsong because you can see how badly he's craving in the way he can't keep his eyes off of the pulse point in your neck. He seizes your arm with both hands (can I? Yes-), bringing the soft skin on the inside of your wrist to his lips. He has just enough presence of mind to kiss the heel of your hand distractedly before he bites, fangs sliding through your skin and into the vein. The sound he makes can only be described as a growl, something feral and possessive (and you'll never tell him that it turns you on, since he would be insufferable about it- a promise to yourself that lasts exactly as long as the space between the moment and the next time you're tipsy and want him).
(NSFW Below!)
Astarion drinking from your inner thigh, one hand holding your leg steady and the other cupping your cunt. You groan, eyes shut in pleasure, as his thumb comes to rub your clit. The pain of the bite is barely pain this way- it collides with the pleasure in your belly and sends you almost out of your mind, overwhelmed with sensation and heat. He takes you all the way there, takes just enough from you to have you relaxed and pliant and soaring somewhere above your own body, plays you like an instrument with all the knowledge of you he's gathered over the months, the years. He knows when you're close, knows to crook his fingers inside you just so, knows the reaction he's going to get when he pulls away from your thigh for just a moment and looks up at you with dark eyes and tells you to come for him, he wants to see it, you fall apart so beautifully and it's all for him, isn't it, tell him how good he makes you feel and when you climax with his voice in your ear and the scent of blood on the air he has the audacity to laugh at how well he understands you, your body.
He's soft, after, softer than he'll ever be with anyone who isn't you. He licks you clean before he takes you to the bath, carrying you with the strength your lifeblood gives him. It's the least he can do for you, with everything you've given him: not just your body, but your trust, your closeness, and he will never stop being grateful.
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neuvistar · 2 days
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❝ BOOTHILL AND TITS ?! ❞ — boothill x fem!reader. cw. nsfw. titfucking + boothill’s love 4 tits mayhaps | quick thirst for my king boothill cuz he’s coming in 9-10 days (in me)+ ngl guys i’m not even sure if he even HAS anything down there… whatever!! jus let a girl dream 🎀
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BOOTHILL and tits HAS 2 be a part of the raising canes secret menu items because.. honestly you didn’t even know he was into tits like that! boothill seeks warmth n comfort from you, it’s not hard 2 guess that he’s quite physically affectionate.. especially when your breasts are involved. you should expect some days where he would be laying against you, twisting and tugging at your nipples.. gently biting down on your flesh. careful though, his teeth can be painful (it is.)
BOOTHILL was most definitely fascinated by your tits! he’d never seen anything as perfect as those lil’ globs on your chest!! (lol) he loved them to the moon and back! “pretty fudgin’ breasts ya got here, baby. always wanted to fudge em, ‘s like they’re always talkin to me, y’know? always begging for me to touch em.” you giggled at his words, knowing he couldn’t swear. “you sound funny.” you murmured against his hair, inhaling his scent. “yeah? this ain’t ‘gonna be funny in a few seconds.” the coldness of his metal hands coming in contact with your skin made your breath hitch, catching you off guard. a pout was visible on your lips as he caressed the soft surface of your breasts, squeezing gently. "easy there, pretty thing," boothill whispered, pulling away slightly.. he knew he had to tread carefully. “ready, sweet-baby? ‘gonna start fudgin’ these pretty things till i come all over ‘em, kay? ‘s gonna feel good, promise.”
BOOTHILL bit his lip, keeping his gaze on his cock sliding between your pretty tits so smoothly, stressing the pace of his thrusts.. losing himself in your tits. “fudgin’ hell.. you’re so hot y’know that? does my dick feel good, darlin’?” you nodded eagerly, gripping the sheets beneath your body. holding your tits firmly against him allowed him to savour your warmth, the warmth of your breasts. he watched in pure awe, chasing his orgasm as he felt it come even closer, “darlin’.. ‘m gonna cum—“ a smirk crept up his lips before he muttered a small “open.” obeying his words, you eagerly opened your mouth, awaiting his release, catching sight of him stroking himself a few times before releasing on your face, “heavens above . . you’re so damn sexy,” he cupped your cheek, “how about i cum inside this pussy next,” he flicked your bud, eliciting a gasp from you. “not a bad idea ain’t it, baby?“
“whaddya’ say? ‘gonna let me pound this pussy?”
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emptyjunior · 2 days
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Can we talk about how good marcille's "magic has no morals" line is.
She's so right, it's just a thing that exists!! And I do think the metaphor is for science, because I could say Science has no morals.
But it's about how people use it. All types of magic can be used to inflict pain: healing, summoning, illusion, there's good and dark sides to all of them.
So should we outlaw it completely and never think about it again? Is that viable? Because we start to see in their world it simply isn't!
Like I think that nuclear physics has been used for bad things. I think it's a wildly dangerous science and its practical use in our society has caused a lot of people harm.
Does that mean I think we should ignore it completely? That we should never study it or ever try to have understood how it works?
No I do Not think that because that seems way more dangerous! And understanding the things we do about nuclear physics opened up the door to understand things in the rest of the universe and all the other sciences.
Ancient magic IS dangerous, so Marcille is doing what she can to help and that means understanding it. Learning about it.
So when it's actively used as a weapon, she can undo it! When people misuse it to cause harm, she can help!
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hyukaslvr · 2 days
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strong enough | J. Jungkook (3)
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<series masterlist
pairing: Jungkook x (f) reader
genre/tags: idol! Jungkook, idol! reader, idiot exes to lovers, slow burn ; k-drama feels (our beloved summer but not at the same time), angst, drama, fluff, smut
warnings: foul/explicit language, alcohol consumption, unhealthy coping mechanisms, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters, panic attacks, reader is harsh towards Jungkook, Jungkook is a meanie!, mentions of old abuse (major trigger warning!!), talk about blood and wounds
w.c: aproxx 11.2
series summary: you and Jungkook have too many personal problems, during and after your relationship and it keeps getting brought up. you both had tried multiple times to ignore the fact you were both struggling mentally and physically due to your workplace, but you always run back to each other. maybe one day, one day you'll get back to each other, with all your problems handled, maybe not. all you want is for him to shine like he always does, all he wants is you.
a/n at very bottom!
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To my love, my forever. You will soon find out the reason why I am the way am I. Give me some time, my love, I will express everything and more to you. Soon, you’ll have everything once I am able to love and care for myself the way I want to do to you. You deserve everything and more than what I could ever give you, and I will be there for you always. I may never give you this, I may never allow you to read this. But just know, you mean so much to me. Even if I’m a pain in the ass, or if I piss you off, you will always be the person who helped me want to change for the better. I know it may seem like i’m leaving you behind, but pushing you away is the best way for me and you to be able to find ourselves. Once we are settled and ready, I will never let you go, ever again. Mark my words, use them against me, but I know that once you let me in, I’ll never leave your side ever again. You’re my one and only, forever. You are my future, my light, the person who drags me to be right. You mean so much to me and more. But for now, let me go to become the one that deserves your love and wellbeing. Take care of yourself, Jungkook, you will do many good things in life, with or without me.
“i think you should give it to him,” one of your members slur out, making your already wobbly head tilt up to her as she hiccups for the 5th time that same hour, you sighed and your head pounded as your squinted tightly to look at her, “seriously! i think he would want closure that way,”
Jungkook definitely did. he knew that when you wrote letters, you meant every little thing. he knew something happened between you and your ex, his name is like a slap in the face to you, and he could always notice.
his hands started to shake as he continued to read your note, he didn’t know how you came all the way to his house just to ring the door bell and drop it off. he was even shocked to notice his name in your handwriting on the top of the note. he wasn’t mad about it, he was just so, so sad. his eyes burned as another drop fell onto his lap. Jungkook knew it was for the best, but why does it hurt so bad and why does he feel like he’ll never get better while you do?
Jungkook didn’t want to think that way, but he did. he always did, he hurts to see you go but hurts even more to see you shine without him. he kept all your little notes in a box, he was really considering giving it back to you since it was at some of your most vulnerable times. he wouldn’t want to keep these just in case he snoops through them, like he’s doing right now as he was putting the other note in there along with the tons of others.
one of them wrote a song that you made about him, him never leaving you and the way you love him. it breaks his heart more, knowing that you’re no longer around, and that he just keeps fucking up.
when you wake up the next morning, your hungover member told you about a box she found outside the door step with your name on it, your ears ring as you stand in front of the box sitting on your bed, biting the inside of your cheek because this was Jungkook’s box. it had a polaroid of the two of you with shots in your hands on his balcony last summer. it was his favorite picture of you both and wanted to keep it with all the letters you even written him.
you pace around your room for like and hour, biting your lip and running your hand through your hair to calm yourself down. it finally felt like you guys were officially over, no matter how many times you’ve broken up. when you opened it finally, there was a new one, one you definitely didn’t write. you don’t even remember going to his house and giving him the one you were gonna keep for your sake.
it was Jungkook’s hand writing, you knew it from the back of your palm, literally as you have a tattoo that he gave you himself. it read,
forever
and looking at it makes you sick. you felt like crap anytime you thought of him, what you had put him through, all the stuff he doesn’t know about you. you knew him so well, but did he actually even know you, truly? it made you want to cry, the tears lining your waterline and you fight the urge.
you give yourself time before opening up his letter, preparing yourself for the worst or to cry. when you start reading it, you felt like he was there with you. it felt as if he was pacing around your room, looking you dead in the eyes and telling you everything you’ve been wanting to hear, but at the wrong time.
I miss you a lot, I know I say that a lot, but it’s true. I’m glad you wrote me this, I’m glad you’re trying to find ways to open up to me, I’m glad you love me. You are my everything, I want what’s best for you, and if it’s not me then so be it. You deserve the whole fucking world, and I hope you know I tried so hard to give it to you. Maybe, in the long run, we can be happy together. Maybe we can be able to know each other truly, I always wanted to. I believe in right person, wrong time, because you’ll forever be my person, even if i’m not in the picture. I love you, ______, I always will.
you wanted to sob, you didn’t even know what to do. you had dropped the note off not expecting anything back, but getting everything back? even a letter from him, confessing how much he loves and cares for you. you didn’t know how to feel, if it was closure or not. to you, yours was supposed to be. his, his was a love letter, you’ll never let go of it.
you had one more promotion for you group, and you had to prepare in so many ways. you had to practice tons, and practing handling your emotions until you’re a zombie to what you truly feel, you couldn’t handle being around Jungkook for long. it’s crazy, how much you used to look at him thinking you’d never do anything to hurt him, yet you’re over here making him suffer because you are in your head. it tears at the deepest parts of you, and it makes you feel so much at once.
so when it came to the event, you felt your knees lock when you saw him sitting with his team. he looked breathtaking, and it sucks that you can’t look at him for long before you cry because he looks too good. Jungkook always looked good, but whenever you wanted to ignore him, it’s like he knows and wants to look that fine. you gulp hard because walking to over your assigned seats, a couple seats back behind them but at an angle to a way that you can see every part of Jungkook, his hands and thighs especially.
ones that put you through hell, sent you to another universe is what he would of said and has said before, smoking off your balcony as you sat on his lap with your legs shaking trying to not fall off. he laughed as he smacked your thighs, watching them shake more as you practically whine in soreness.
he took another puff off his cig before putting it down on his designated ash tray, but even knowing you didn’t smoke, he kissed you hard, forcing the hot smoke into your mouth and through your pipes, allowing him to do anything to you because you were obsessed with everything he did.
“fucked you out, huh, princess?” he said against your ear as he gave you a second to breathe, making you almost choke as his hand started to move down and between your thighs, giving them a squeeze before going deep between them to touch you where you shook the most.
let’s just say, the memory had your legs close tightly together. the thought of how much have gave you that night, it made you miss him even more for just taking care of you like he said he would. you could feel it starting to stick against your skin, immediately wanting to go to the bathroom.
you thought you were stable enough to walk down the stairs in front of all the idols and fans including, instead you almost dropped face first into the steps instead someone’s hand wrapped around your waist and around the inside of your thigh, gripping it hard as they held you from falling to your death infront of thousands of people.
“your shoes too big for you, baby?”
you really thought you were going crazy, that his presence was just teasing you. but as your eyes dragged themselves down to the hand around the inside of your thigh, you weren’t going crazy. the tattoos proving who the man really was and how his thumb was very close to your throbbing clit. you shivered before quicking bowing at him once you leave his grip and speed walking towards the exit.
the moment you got alone in a hallway, you looked around before pulling out your phone to text your leader where you were going to be, the bathroom, before you hear a door open behind you. you go to put your phone away, but a tight grip around your waist turns you towards the person, your phone falling on to the floor and your mouth to open up, perfect for the attacker to kiss you hard.
another hand grabs your hair and you immediately knew who it was based on the way he was holding you. he knew, and knew it was because of him. that’s all your thought about when his lips were softly against yours, until you felt his hands creeping up. he just knew how to distract you from the facts and knows how to get you to enjoy his attack.
“can we talk soon, princess?” he whispers lowly in your ear once he pulls away from your now desperate lips trying to reach his. you whimper at the nickname, one that just rolls off his tongue in such a degrading way, he grabs your chin softly, turning your face to face him. his eyes invited yours, and the longer you looked into them, the more you felt entranced by him.
“talk about what?” you sighed into his hold, which he notices and gives you your favorite smile in the whole world. it hard to ignore his hands gripping your waist, your hands clinging onto his dress shirt as he holds you, you didn’t expect to be in this position.
“we will talk later tonight, i’ll pick you up?”
“how, with what car-”
“i’ll figure it out, anything for you,” he presses his forehead against yours, making your eyes squeeze shut as he lets out a little chuckle because of your reaction to his proximity being so close to you, you could almost feel his breath against your lips. “you know i’ll do whatever i need to do to see you, i will figure out a way to see you later tonight, bunny, i promise,” he kisses your nose softly before letting you go without your even realizing he picked up your phone for you, a smile across his face as you nodded your head for him.
Jungkook didn’t give you a time, or a place to when he was going to pick you up. before you left the event, you had asked him what he was planning on doing with you and he just told you that you’ll have to wait and find out. Jungkook knew how to make you worry about what could happen. what should you even wear? is he taking me somewhere to eat? it’s kinda late for that-
doink
something just hit your window as you were pulling your pants up, you almost tripped in shock but managed to pull them up and fix yourself before going to your window. there he was, the man of your dreams, the love of your life, standing down there searching for more rocks to toss at your window.
you cracked your dorm room window open, not even wanting to question how he managed to get over the brick wall to get into the dorms, and he smiles when he sees your head peaking from the bottom of the window. he pats his hands on his thighs while you watch him with curiosity.
“get down here bunny, we have a lot to do tonight,” he stood up straight, hands put in his pockets as he stared off at you. you would of jumped right there into his arms after that nickname, you almost whined before nodding your head like an idiot and shutting your window.
you managed to sneak out, grabbed your shoes at the front and headed out from the back blind spot and running to where Jungkook stood, his hands tucked in his pockets to stay warm. his left arm raised so you could wrap your arm around it, a habit of the both of you. you just ignored the bad feelings and wrapped your arm around his, feeling his arm tighten around yours as you both started to walk to the car.
“you gonna tell me where we’re going, Jeon?” you tilt your head, your left knee against his center console as your left side rested on his passenger seat. his hand slid up to your knee, leaving you in shock as he gripped it in warning.
“stop asking questions, baby,” he tapped his finger on your knee, not even bothering to look your way. you huffed as you closed your eyes, trying to ignore his thumb moving against your thigh now, his hand resting against it too.
“Jungkook, you know we can be doing this again. i know you remember what happened last time,” you warned, your head felt like it was spinning, none of this felt real. Jungkook bit his lip ring in thought, he just wanted to talk to you and apologize. he always wants to talk to you even if he’s been rude.
“______, what do you think i’m going to do to you tonight?” he spoke deeply, it sent waves through your spine, and down to your poor kitty. it’s crazy, what this big eyed man can do to you with only his hand on your thigh while he speaks to you like your his.
“i- i don’t know, what are you asking me? i’m just confused why you’re doing this-”
“what do you want me to do to you tonight, baby? is there something else bothering you that only i can fix?” his hand rubs your inner thigh, occasionally softly squeezing the skin closest to where you needed help the most. “i’ll do whatever you want me to do to you, you just have to speak up, darling. is that okay? can you do that for me, princess?”
you almost moaned, gasping at his eagerness to help you with whatever you want, and you knew he meant that. “Jungkook, we can’t be doing thing again, as much as we want to-”
“fuck that and fuck no contact, we were doing good as fuck the last time we were friends. can we not be friends, baby?”
“that’s why! you keep calling me my favorites, you can’t do that to me..” you whined, you wanted to hide away as he giggled at how you whined. when the car slowly starts to come to a stop, you got reminded that the whole time you were talking to him, getting teased by him, he was driving. “Jungkook… where are we?”
“let me help you out and show you,” he smiled, and you just knew that you had to trust him, why? because he’s Jeon Jungkook, why wouldn’t you trust the love of your life?
when he open your door, hand already reaching for his as he helped you out of the car, the smell of salt hit your face in a whiff, making you smile at the moment you had at this beach with Jungkook. but why here? why did he want to talk here?
you didn’t trust your voice, watching his open his back door to grab a blanket and cigs, which you thought he quit, with a lighter and a flashlight. you didn’t say a word as you hugged onto his arm as he walked to a specific place, your guys place. the place where he gave you head for the very first time, you found sand up there for at least a day after that.
“do you trust me, sugar?” Jungkook asked you, tugging you to sit next to him on the blanket over the cold sand at the dark lonely beach. it’s like he knew what you were worried about, could you trust him again? it’s not like he broke your trust, it’s about you trusting yourself around him. if anything besides talking happens tonight, and you guys become exactly what you were afraid of becoming, you won’t know what to do with yourself.
it’s a bit selfish you thought, as his hand rested against your shoulder as you snuggled against his neck, breathing in only Jungkook and a little bit of salt. you loved this, but it couldn’t get any farther than this. just small, and slight, touches and sometimes kisses, only at certain times. the sound of the waves crashing tingled your ears, debating if you should listen to his heartbeat or not.
“do you know why i want you out here with me tonight, baby?” his voice vibrated your cheek as he spoke, his fingers gliding against the thin fabric of your long sleeved shirt. you hummed, you felt him swallow before you moved your head to face him.
“i wouldn’t have asked you that a million times in the car, Jungkook,” he smiles when your eyes finally reach his. he used to ask you, what did you see when you looked into his eyes? you usually just laughed it off or ignored the question, but now you think you know the questions answer. Home. in other words, Jungkook was your confort, the one you would go to, the one who makes you feel the safest, the one who keeps you feeling warm. Jungkook was your favorite.
Jungkook leans in, you can almost feel his breath against the wind, you almost forget where you are when you look deeply into his eyes. he leans so close to you that you could almost kiss him. you feel his arm wrap around your waist, pulling you closer- and closer to him, until your hovering above him.
you looked down at him, his hand sliding down your waist and on to your thigh to swing your leg over his body. he’s got you now, almost spread wide for him as his eyes glazed your entire body, making your shiver.
“let’s that about why you were so wet when i caught you from eating shit in front of everyone today, huh? or maybe… why you’re so wet right now, was it from the car ride? you just couldn’t wait, hm? baby?” he smacked your thigh, and you almost whimper at his words, “sit down on me, love. you know you want to. i’ll do anything you want me to, just let me in this one or more times and you won’t regret it this time,”
oh boy, you were in for a ride. baby, princess, sugar, darling, bunny, love. hearing that one burned, deeply in two places. your poor heart as you feel his hands grip your sides, and your poor throbbing cunt that it about to get slammed onto his hard on resting below you. either or, you know you’re safe and whatever happens can be dealt with. why? because you’re with Jeon Jungkook, why wouldn’t it be fine?
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a/n: holy shit, this took forever and i sincerely apologize!! i love how this episode turned out and i will give you guys a slight warning! spicy scenes are coming up and I’m not backing down from this. it will be the dirtiest, most greatest- yeah! anyways, thank you for your patience, i love you all🥹
taglist: @loumin908 @heartjiminie @cuntessaiii @parkinglot-nights @minsoa97kor @jkgirlfr @lavendersugarplum @gaebestie @whoa-jo @kp0pficdump @yunholuv @skzthinker @shwkoqp18 @veemegatron @kaiparkerwifes @alextgef @nerdycheol @nightappple @nlr1606 @chl0buggy
if your tag isn’t gray, please fix your settings so i can tag you next time love!
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justporo · 13 hours
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Hi JustPoro! I wanted to share an observation with you. Maybe you can turn this into some headcanon, fanfic or just share your thoughts on it? I just started my second BG run, romancing Astarion again. I didn't really see/notice it months ago on my first run, but now it's so obvious that when Astarion is sincere he always touches his own hands and fingers, like a tell. One moment he leans forward, looks you in the eye, spreads his arms, demanding all your attention. But the next moment he looks to the side, his words become smaller, he puts his hands in front his body and starts playing with his fingers, basically shrinking back into himself, even if he still smiles. It happens a few times and it's such a heartbreaking detail. How do you think the Tav would react when they first catch on to this?
Hi Anon, thank you so much for hopping in my inbox. And oh, this is a very good observation. So I wanted to write a little drabble about it.
If you see any typos: no you don't (it's not proofread, psst)
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As a former thief you knew a tell when you saw one.
Because back in your thieving days it was part of your set of skills needed to survive. You had to know when someone was trying to rip you off. 
Astarion had a tell. Quite an obvious one too.
You hadn’t fully figured out yet what it was he was lying to you about or trying to hide from you. But it was clear that something was up, something going on behind these unusual crimson eyes, whenever he started to fidget with his hands.
Admittedly, you probably had figured it out as quickly as you did because you had stared at his hands quite often. They were beautiful hands: quite big, long, elegant and immaculately cared for fingers. You had to admit you had a thing for hands; but Astarion’s especially.
You knew exactly what those hands could do: from lockpicking even the meanest locks and making it look like magic in its own respect to dramatically being flailed around to underline the point the vampire was making; to oh so easily finding this delicate spot between your legs, caressing it, toying with it, making you lose your mind - with nothing but a touch of those fingers.
But the physical intimacy you had shared didn’t mean you were on the same terms in other aspects of your relationship.
And so the first time you noticed Astarion’s small nervous habit you didn’t let it show that you had noticed. It had been a delicate subject obviously. One of those rare moments where the vampire let precious details of his past slip.
From just the few things he had shared with you, you could imagine the horrors he must have lived through.
And from the way his body gave him away, you were sure of the pain it still caused him.
It was when his shoulders fell, his whole body basically folding in on himself from his usual cocksure flamboyant posture and attitude. His ruby eyes seemed leagues and eons away, still lingering agony swimming in them.
Those were the moments where unconsciously he started to nervously play around with his hands, obviously not even noticing. Tugging on the fingers of the other hand, pressing the thumb into the palm of the other - as if trying to give himself at least a bit of reassurance or to pull himself back by the pressure applied. And then the moment quickly passed again. Hands falling to his side again.
And so you took note but remained silent.
Until this fateful night back at Moonrise towers when Astarion had made a confession to you, you hadn’t ever expected.
Immediately it had been obvious how upsetting and strenuous it must have been for him to bring himself to even bring it up with you. So much so that you were sure he must be close to ripping his own fingers off judging by the way he worked while he opened up about his feelings for you.
So if this wasn’t the moment which would it ever be? As Astarion kept speaking you stepped closer, his eyes immediately growing big and round. So obviously afraid. Not of but of what he feared was about to happen. His words died on his lips as the vampire could only stand and watch, positively becoming a statue. His hands froze in position in front of his chest.
That’s where you gently grabbed them from with your own. He let you. Too shocked to react in any other kind of way.
“Did you notice,” you began as you started to gently massage them “that you tug on your hands when you’re upset or nervous or…” You blushed a little as you didn’t manage to finish your question, letting your gaze drop from his to where his hands were mingled with yours.
“I do?” Astarion replied bewildered, fully thrown off his groove and what he had planned to say.
You nodded, still not able to look up at him again, but kept softly soothing his fingers.
Silence fell between you as you kept going, feeling how your warmth spread to him.
After a long while you found the courage to look Astarion in the eyes again. He seemed transformed. A gentle smile was tugging on his lips, eyes full of warmth and kindness. None of that fearful behaviour that made him sink into himself but also none of the cocky performance he so often put on.
Instead, Astarion seemed genuine. Probably more so than you had seen him be this far.
And when he finally continued his speech, you felt more of that. All while you kept holding onto his hands. And - as you felt by the end of it - as he was holding onto yours.
Later, you of course still noticed those moments when Astarion nervously toyed around with his hands. But now you had no good reason to not go and do something about it.
So, whenever you noticed it happening you softly grabbed his hands, untangled his fingers and wrapped them with yours. Or pressed your palm against his. Or kissed his fingers one by one. Until the moment had passed.
And later still, when Astarion had started to learn to rely on you, you found he sometimes came to you, grabbing your hands for a bit of support. You squeezed his in reassurement and let your thumb wander over the back of his hand in these moments - until he squeezed back. A silent thank you, you’ve come to know.
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nayziiz · 2 days
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Jealousy, Jealousy | OP81
Lost & Found | OP81
Pairing: Oscar Piastri x reader
Author's note: I'm trying something a little bit different with shorter form fics, so please send through any requests or feedback. These one shots will likely not have a second part unless it really speaks to me to continue with it. Thank you!
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Oscar thrived on the energy you brought to the paddock during race weekends. Your mere presence seemed to anchor him amidst the whirlwind of anticipation and nerves that often accompanied such high-stakes events. Amidst the chaos of the paddock, your steady presence provided him with a sense of comfort and confidence, acting as a stabilising force in the midst of the adrenaline-fueled atmosphere.
Your support didn't just stop at being physically present; it extended to an unwavering encouragement that boosted his morale and mental fortitude. Knowing that you were there, cheering him on from the sidelines, fueled his determination to perform at his best. Your belief in him mirrored his own, serving as a constant reminder of his capabilities and potential.
But perhaps most significantly, your presence seemed to translate into tangible results on the track. Whenever you were there to celebrate with him, Oscar's performance seemed to reach new heights. It was as if your support had a direct correlation to his success, as if your belief in him propelled him forward, pushing him to push the boundaries of his own abilities.
As the weekend unfolded, Oscar found solace in your company, relishing every moment spent together, from leisurely strolls around the paddock to shared lunches and casual conversations while watching replays in the garage. Your presence brought him a sense of contentment, grounding him amidst the intensity of race weekends.
However, a shadow fell over his contentment when he noticed you chatting with Lando. The sight of you laughing at Lando's jokes, your hand resting casually on his arm, ignited a surge of jealousy within Oscar. He couldn't help but feel a pang of insecurity as he observed the easy rapport between you and his teammate, the way Lando's eyes seemed to light up in response to your laughter.
In that moment, Oscar's contentment gave way to a gnawing sense of unease. He couldn't shake the feeling of being sidelined, of watching from the sidelines as you shared a connection with someone he considered a friend. The laughter that had once brought him joy now rang hollow in his ears, overshadowed by the discomfort of seeing you engage with another driver in such a familiar manner.
Later, as Oscar stumbled upon you engrossed in conversation with Pato, a surge of frustration and hurt bubbled up within him. The sight of you hanging onto Pato's every word, your gaze fixed attentively on him, felt like a blow to Oscar's ego. It seemed as though you were captivated by Pato's presence, absorbing his insights and perspectives with an eagerness that Oscar found difficult to stomach.
For Oscar, this encounter with Pato served as a painful reminder of his own perceived insignificance in your eyes. Throughout the day, he had watched as you effortlessly connected with various people in the paddock, never sparing a moment to seek him out or engage with him in the same way. It was as if he didn't even register on your radar, as if his presence didn't matter to you at all.
As Oscar observed you leaning in closely, preoccupied in conversation with a mechanic as he explained the intricate details of Oscar's car, a wave of possessiveness and protectiveness washed over him. Though outwardly composed, inwardly, Oscar's emotions roiled like a storm ready to break.
The sight of you showing interest in the workings of his car, sharing a moment of camaraderie with another man, ignited a primal instinct within Oscar to defend what he considered his territory. The mechanic's presence, while innocent and professional, suddenly felt like a threat to Oscar's sense of security and connection with you.
Behind his calm exterior, Oscar's mind raced with thoughts of competition and rivalry. He felt an overwhelming urge to assert his dominance, to remind everyone in the paddock that you were his, and his alone. The idea of anyone else encroaching on your attention filled him with a fierce determination to reclaim your focus, to ensure that you remained firmly by his side.
In that moment, Oscar's love for you transformed into a fierce, primal instinct to protect and possess. He would do anything to keep you close, to ensure that no other man could come between you. Though his actions might seem extreme to an outsider, for Oscar, it was a matter of preserving what he held most dear: his connection with you.
Despite the storm of emotions raging within him, Oscar knew better than to confront the situation in public. He understood the importance of maintaining a composed facade amidst the public eye, unwilling to air his grievances or reveal his insecurities in front of others. Instead, he made a silent vow to address the issue with you privately, where he could express his feelings without fear of judgement or scrutiny.
As the day wore on and the activities in the paddock continued, Oscar bided his time, keeping his emotions carefully in check. With each passing hour, his resolve to discuss the matter with you grew stronger, fueled by a mixture of frustration, hurt, and a deep-seated desire to salvage what he perceived as a strained connection between them.
It wasn't until you both returned to the privacy of the hotel that Oscar felt the weight of the day's events press upon him once more. As Oscar and you entered the hushed confines of the hotel lobby, the tension between them crackled like electricity in the air. Oscar's jaw clenched, his gaze fixed on you with a mixture of longing and apprehension. Finally, as the elevator doors closed behind them, sealing them in a cocoon of privacy, Oscar couldn't hold back any longer.
“We need to talk,” he said, his voice taut with emotion. Your eyebrows furrowed, sensing the gravity of his tone.
“What's on your mind?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady despite the growing sense of unease.
“You know damn well what's on my mind,” Oscar snapped, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “I saw you today, cozying up to Lando, Pato, and that mechanic. It felt like I was invisible to you, like you didn't even bother to look for me.”
Your eyes widened in surprise, but before you could respond, Oscar continued, his words tumbling out in a rush of pent-up emotion. “I can't stand seeing you with other guys, laughing and flirting like I'm not even here. I know I should trust you, but it's driving me insane.”
A flicker of hurt flashed across your face, mingling with empathy as you reached out to touch his arm gently.
“I was just being polite, Osc. I didn’t mean for it to seem like I was flirting with them. I didn't realise it was affecting you like this," you said softly, your voice laced with sincerity. Oscar's shoulders sagged with relief at your understanding, but the fire in his eyes didn't dim.
“I just... I need you to know how much you mean to me,” he admitted, his voice wavering slightly. “I can't stand the thought of losing you.”
“Maybe it’s a good thing I’m with you then, and not one of those stupid boys. Now I can just show you how much I love being yours,” You told him.
Tension hung in the air between them, but as you reached out to envelop him in a comforting embrace, Oscar felt a weight lift from his chest. A tentative smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you met his gaze, a silent reassurance passing between you.
“I'm here, with you, completely and utterly yours,” you continued, your voice filled with conviction.
In that moment, as the weight of the day's tensions melted away, Oscar felt a surge of gratitude for the unwavering love and devotion you offered him. With a renewed sense of purpose, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close in a tender embrace.
Together, in the quiet sanctuary of the hotel room, you found solace in each other's arms, reaffirming the bond that held you together amidst the chaos of the racing world. And as you whispered words of love and reassurance into the night, Oscar knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, as long as he had you by his side, he could weather any storm. And, perhaps learn to be less jealous at times.
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Retribution (The Kidxf!Reader) - Monkey Man
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A/N: I said I was writing it and it has been done lol If you haven’t watched this film yet, please do! I indulged and wrote a small fic about it lol (Don't mind the abyssmal pacing of this, I barely edited and added anything) I hope you all enjoy it and can someone please indulge me more by writing more fics about this man!? Dev Patel absolutely killed it! Put him in a rom-com! I tried to write the hijra with as much care as possible. Please let me know if there’s something I can be more educated on in terms of this!
Synopsis: A mysterious man arrives at the temple you call home and makes quite an impression.
Warnings/ Tags: Angst. Fluff. Allusions to sex work. Descriptions of violence and blood. Coarse language. Kissing.
Word Count: 3.2K
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The cheers of those around you interrupt the hanging of your laundry.
Peeking through the shoulders and the shadows, you sneak a glance at the subject of commotion, and it doesn’t surprise you.
The way he moves is equal parts graceful and aggressive. His punches are meticulously messy, a choreographed war drum thrumming to the beat of his own heart. This man is far removed from who you remember gazing upon a few days ago. His eyes were lost, sunken, like a child looking for guidance or divine judgement for all that’s led him to this point.
This was not that man.
This man was vengeance personified.
And through him, you felt hope.
You knew nothing about him. Alpha was able to garner all of your help, quietly and quickly instructing to pull the man out of the river. You were there when they cauterized his wounds. His screams were pure agony, making you cringe, and somehow you felt that his pain went deeper than physicality.
He walked like a ghost when he first came, aimlessly walking, like trying to just bump into something that would give him an answer.
Now, it seems he walks with purpose.
He throws his last punch and receives a mighty applause. The crowd recognizes the show’s over for the time being and they disperse as he keeps heaving, staring at the bag like he wants to hit it more. Like he never wants to stop.
You pick up a basket and walk over to him. Whether to strike up a proper conversation or feeling annoyed at the dirtied shirt on the ground you had just washed, you don’t exactly know. But something about him is magnetic, pulling you in, just like the first time you saw him that night, all bloody and bruised.
You nod at his white shirt. “I’ll take that.”
He breaks from his spell and turns to look at you.
His heaving slows, his breaths getting deeper by the second. For what you think is a few minutes, he just stares are you, and you at him, both of you taking each other in. You realize his physique really is something to awe over, but more importantly, that his eyes are far gentler than what you thought possible.
You tilt your head. “The shirt?”
He bends and picks up the white cloth, simply extending it to you as he continues to stare. You gesture for him to drop it into the basket. With an amused scoff, you start to turn away. “I’d appreciate it if you hung the next shirt you tore off on a wall.”
“Your name?”
His voice surprises you. You’ve only heard him speak a few times before. He sounds rough, and scratchy, like he doesn’t use his voice often.
You introduce yourself and after a few moments, he repeats your name back to you. Slowly, quietly, as if he’s scared of offending you in any way. Listening to it fall from his lips is like listening to dripping honey and you’d be lying to yourself if you said it didn’t make heat crawl up your neck.
To save face, you again start to walk away from him. “Widen your stance.” You advise, not waiting to hear a reply.
- - - - - - - - - - -
Several days pass until you have another full conversation.
You’re caught up with mundane chores. He’s caught up with punching that bag and doing god knows what else when he’s not at the temple.
Though there was that one time you almost slip and he catches you effortlessly by the waist and it definitely made your stomach flutter.
You smile the first time you depart to wash laundry and see his shirt hanging over a nearby wall.
He’s getting better. His posture looks strong, immovable. Sometimes you think with all that’s happened to him, that he must be invincible. Surely, no one can lose that much blood and still maintain their sanity.
But then you see his movements wain by the end of his exercise and it’s like something powerful overcomes him as he loses all finesse and he punches that rice-filled bag for all its worth with no rhyme or reason. You sense his frustration as he suddenly stops and puts his hand on his hips, breathing erratically.
You approach him cautiously. Pulling out a bottle of water from your laundry basket, you offer it to him. “Consider taking a break?”
He’s slow to take the bottle from you but he does so anyway. After almost draining the whole thing, he splashes the rest of the water over his head. Only as he shakes the droplets off his curly locks does he try to return it to you.
“An actual break.” You reiterate, stuffing the bottle of water back into your basket. “Your drummer needs one too. He might have built up his callouses, but he should eat something.”
The man turns to look where your eyes are directed and though you don’t have a clear view of his face, you can tell from the way that his eyebrows ease that he feels a sense of guilt. The drummer simply raises his palm and stands. “Take some time to clear your head, I’ll be here whenever you have.” He leaves the courtyard until it’s just the two of you left.
The weather is oddly cool today. There’s smoke and a mugginess that’s expected from being close to the heart of the city, but if you were to look around, it’d almost seem like you were transported decades into the past. The temple acts like a sanctuary, shielding you all from the outside world’s noise and it does a good job.
You walk towards a small wooden bench off to the far side and take a seat. You set your basket down and pat the space next to you. “Come,” You beckon “I’d appreciate some company while I fold all of these white shirts I’ve had to add to my load.”’
Something like embarrassment flashes on his face as he follows your command and sits right next to you. His posture is stiff like he wants to make an impression. It’s obvious your newfound companion doesn’t like to talk, or more accurately, isn’t very good at starting small conversation.
“I’m sorry for the bother.”
He has a tone of bashfulness, unable to turn in your direction. Your smile widens as you continue to fold “I didn’t say it was bothersome.” You refute. “In fact, I’d rather say I don’t mind you taking your shirt off.”
You try to make direct eye contact then, but he swallows thickly and doesn’t meet your eyes. It makes you giggle, but you decide to pull back on the joke, not wanting him to take offence or cause him more uneasiness. “Besides, each shirt is a testament to how much work you’ve put into bettering your skills here.”
That gets him to scoff and drop his head in disbelief “I’m still not where I need to be.”
“No,” you reply earnestly “but you will be.”
This earns you another bout of silence.
 For a while, you both just enjoy each other’s quiet company. He stares blankly ahead and you give him the time to examine whatever it is he’s battling through in his own thoughts.
Eventually, he sighs and inclines his head towards the sky. “How long have you lived here?”
“Ever since I could remember.”  You answer honestly. “Alpha says they opened the door and there I was, miraculously alive, left laying on a dirty blanket.”
“You’ve been here ever since?” He carefully asks.
“I’ve never lived anywhere else if that’s what you’re asking.” You pass an unfolded shirt to him and to your surprise he starts to fold it with no question. Bitter memories start to glaze your view. “And for someone as uneducated as me, there’s only a few jobs out there that I’d be considered for as a woman.”
A knowing silence passes through you both at the statement. Yatana was unforgiving. A real dog-eat-dog society with no time or need for those who couldn’t stomach it or keep up. Truth be told, most of the time you couldn’t. Very often would a prostitute or child be pounding on your doors for help or asylum. Hungry, beaten, thrown away like a speck of dust not worth anyone’s time.
“Doesn’t it make you angry?”
You’re unphased by the question. “Of course it does.”
And you mean it. There are days when you scream at the sky or dunk your head slightly longer underwater to try and get away from it all, try to release it in some way.
Eyes still trained to the sky; he confesses “Because that’s all I feel. Anger and pain, and I can’t-“ he struggles to finish his words. “I can’t-‘
“I know.”
That makes him look back down and finally turn in your direction. He patiently expects you to explain.
 You swallow thickly but continue to talk anyway. “To feel helpless, like you can’t do anything no matter how hard you try.” Gritting your teeth, you realize your hands have stopped folding. “But it doesn’t matter, because there are people who need me more strongly than the pain I feel.”
He considers your words thoughtfully and waits for you to speak once more. “Amidst all this chaos, this temple stands. People need me here. Children, mothers, the beautiful hijra who gave me a home, and when they leave this place with the tiniest glimpse of hope on their faces, then I know I’ve done my job. I don’t fight as well as the hijra here, I don’t expect to get much better, but I want them to know that they have refuge with me.”
You pass him an unfolded sari and for the rest of the time you are sitting together, you both fold quietly, basking in the sun and each other’s presence.
He continues to train harder after that. Each step is quick, each punch as sharp as a bullet. When he isn’t training, he’s watching. The news, the protests, the speeches, like he’s reassuring himself, learning the best way to approach.
 It’s obvious everyone here, including you is taken with this stranger. Though, you don’t really know if you could even call him that anymore.
It’s like he seeks you out. It doesn’t matter if it’s simply sitting together for dinner or him deliberately waiting for you to walk through the courtyard with your basket under your arm. Both of your eyes are trained on each other with an eager sheen.
Maybe it’s fear or maybe it's an understanding that your pairing would most likely never work out in the end. Either way, whatever it is, it disappoints you because you so badly want to believe he wants you the same way.
The mood becomes slightly flirtatious and you catch sight of a boyish grin here or there, especially when he’s surrounded by the hijra.
But anytime you think he might ask you something, or just when you’re on the cusp of telling him your interest, something stops you in your tracks, holding you back.
A recollection plays in your head of last night.
It’s just him and the drummer again today. You wait near a dark window before you pass so as to not to disturb his concentration.
He has a beat to the way he fights, a brutal rhythm, and it astounds you every time you watch him. If this is how he looks punching a bag, you wonder how he’d look fighting against others. You find the thought oddly attractive, and it makes you flush.
For all his skill in the ring, it seems that’s where all his artistry in footwork stops. Surrounded by laughing and beaming faces, with the sound of softer drumming in the air, everyone takes a turn dancing. No one cared about how sloppy anyone was. You sure weren’t the best dancer amongst the hijras, but this seemed unsubstantial when you were all drunk on each other’s company.
The children present that evening and you form a small circle. You’re swinging your arms around when you notice your mystery man with a smile of his own. It knocks the air out of your lungs. It’s one that gives him crinkles around his eyes and all at once he doesn’t look like a hardened killer, but someone you’d see on a billboard or a magazine cover.
You crook your finger at him, inviting him into your little dance number. He tries to politely decline, his once beaming face turning something sheepish, but Alpha bumps him shoulder to shoulder, and soon the rest of them urge and tease him to dance along. When he gets to the center begrudgingly, it’s already too late for him to back out. Two children start to pull him until he lands directly opposite of you.
The circle of your intertwined hands spins, it twirls here and there, and when you all raise your hands to shrink the circle, you land face-to-face with the most fascinating man you’ve ever seen. It lasts all of five seconds, but everything around you dims as you look at this man’s face illuminated by firelight.
His eyes are his most emotive feature and they always seem to twinkle. Right then, they almost looked like jewels from the way they glossed over.
You pick up on the way those eyes slowly dipped down towards your lips and suddenly you wonder if he’s thinking about the same things you are. If he really does want you the same way you do.
But before you can tumble into that path of thought, cheers and hoots pull you out of the little bubble of enchantment you’d created. You turn to reject the idea of it all, but when you glance back at the man in front of you, your breath catches.
He continues to stare intently at your visage, not minding or caring about the extra attention one bit.
And then a scream erupts in your ears.
Seeing him punch the bag until rice grains stick to his chest reminds you of what he’s capable of.
When he shares a nod with the drummer, you know that he’s finally achieved what he came here at the temple to do.
Dropping your basket, you immediately rush indoors, following the cries of the hijra around you. Lakshmi lays in the center of the temple room floor, blood dripping from them like a fountain. You crouch and gently put their head on your knees as the weeps continue all around you.
They explain that they put a notice on the door, Shakti’s men, and all you can see is an unbridled tint of red starting to form. Your heart is pounding, Lakshmi is struggling to fight for air, and in front of this statue, an indescribable wave of pain crashes into you.
It’s loud, far too loud. With your thoughts, the cries, the blood staining your shirt.
Your one hand on the floor clenches into a fist. You try to remind yourself that you can be better, that there must be something more to all of this than just pray, than to just keep taking what they serve like impotent little ants. The hopelessness starts to creep in, slowly etching itself into your thoughts.
But before it can take hold, you distinguish a face in the shadows. It’s observing as everything around you starts to crumble and in that moment you try to push all that anger onto him as you directly glare into his soul.
And when you see him break open the donation box much later during the humid night, you know you’ve put your faith into the right person.
He tries to leave as silently as he came, but you meet him at the entrance. He holds a crude, dirty children’s bag and you can only assume that’s where he’s keeping the money.
He tries to explain, but you start to approach him which stops his needless rambling. In an act of boldness, you grab his hand in yours and flip it to look clearly at his scars. If he’s uncomfortable, he doesn’t show it. He doesn’t even flinch.
“Alpha was right.” You agree. “You do have the hands of a warrior”
You enclose his hand between yours, putting it up against your lips. “I wonder how such gentle hands fight with such ferocity.”
He starts to twitch and as you loosen your grip, expecting him to pull back, he instead cups the side of your face and despite his scarred calloused hands, his touch is pure velvet. His thumb brushes the tears you didn’t notice were starting to fall freely down your cheek.
Please, you pray. Whatever it takes.
“Fight for me.” You croak thickly. “Fight for all of us.”
He clenches his jaw. “I promise you.”
You pull him towards you by grasping his neck and your lips meet in the middle. The kiss is like him. Equal parts sweet as it is harsh. His lips were warm and soft, but the urgency in the way you both kissed each other was anything but. You bury your hand into his hair and feel his curls unmake themselves even further. His smell of soap and sage infiltrates your senses.
It was a dizzying feeling. It’s what you felt while you were dancing exploded ten-fold. It was the culmination of tension and grief exploding into something technicolour. As your noses bump against each other, you think you want to draw more of this kindness from this man.
Your breathing quickens and he groans into your mouth. It’s almost like you two are fighting. With each other, against each other, for each other. Exploring this hungry need has only made you more insatiable.  
And that becomes particularly dangerous, especially when you know he has a job to do.
Reluctantly you pull back. His eyes stay closed and you press your foreheads together, listening to the crackles of the torches around you. “Your emotions are strong.” You quietly whisper. “But do not let them control you. Let them guide you.”
He blinks his eyes open, full of clarity.
Letting each other go hesitantly, you take one last look at him and he at you. “Come back to me,” you say with all the confidence you can muster.
You can tell you’re both skeptical about your claim, but he nods his head anyway. He walks around you and you don’t turn to look at him leave for fear of wanting to hold him back. You hear the creak of the door, but before he can take another step away from you, you mumble “Give them Hell.”
There’s a slight pause before you start to hear the crunching of the ground beneath him, each step lighter than the last until you can no longer hear him creeping into the night.
Please, you pray. Whatever it takes.
- - - - - -
When you see the money-filled bag hanging on the statue the next day, it’s attached with a note.
His presence overflows through your every pore.
Alpha looks at you with a determined expression on their face, as do the other hijra around them.
It seems they don’t just want repayment, they want a reckoning.
They want retribution.
- - - - - -
A/N: Please let me know what you think by leaving a note, comment, or reblog! Or we can just geek out about Monkey Man lol I definitely won’t be opposed to that lol
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matchakuracat · 14 hours
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chronically ill/physically disabled people, how do you deal with doctors appointments? what do you say/do to advocate for yourself? im autistic and not diagnosed with a chronic illness yet and i really struggle to know what to say to get them to listen to me and understand so that i can get the help and care i need. even if i bring someone with me, they also need to know what to say and i don't know anyone who understands well enough to explain to the doctor for me, which means that i have to tell them what to say before going. but that's the problem since i just don't know.
i have chronic joint pain that ive had for years but has only gotten worse over time. i also have hypermobile knees which are the worse they've ever been right now. i'm chronically fatigued and barely have the energy to eat and do basic hygiene. i have a few friends that i talk to fairly regularly and im very thankful for them but i still struggle so much with maintaining a social life when i cant even maintain my own physical wellbeing. i only go outside when i absolutely have to/when my pain is low enough and i have enough energy. on average i probably leave my house about once or twice a week, usually to go to medical appointments, to an internship i have once a week or to go grocery shopping. i usually try to do both at the same time if i can (like going grocery shopping after my internship) but most of the time i have to ask my parents to get me groceries since i dont have enough energy to. all i want is to be able to go outside just to take short walks and enjoy nature and the fresh air but i can't do so without the right treatment/a mobility aid. everything im doing right now is bordering the line of too much. im constantly tired and overwhelmed and everything feels like a struggle, even the smallest tasks most people do everyday without thinking twice about it.
i have almost only had bad experiences with doctors and other medical professionals like physiotherapists, which has given me a lot of extra anxiety on top of my already pretty bad social anxiety. i really struggle to make appointments and even more so to go to them, and when i bring myself to do so i really struggle to express myself and explain how i feel and how i want them to help me. i almost always get shut down and offered no actual help with any of my problems. i just don't know what to do anymore.
if anyone has any advice i'd really appreciate it. i know that i can't give up because my life right now without accommodations is too miserable, but i also don't know how to move forward.
sorry if this was hard to understand. i really tried my best to explain but im having a bit of a hard time expressing myself right now due to feeling worse than usual.
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deathmetalunicorn1 · 3 days
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Hiii! It's me :D
Anyways can I request a whitebeard pirates x fem child reader?
Reader is a clone of whitebeard having his haki and devil fruit ability (like the seraphims) basically reader is a little insane from being stuck in a lab
The reason why whitebeard has a clone because reader is a weapon for the Marines
Reader is a bit rude and a brat because she's scared of adults
Let's say back in marineford they tried forcing reader to fight back at whitebeard but whitebeard just scoop her up and took her back to the Moby dick (thatch, ace and whitebeard lives)
Reader has a brand on the back of her neck 'W. B CLONE' (whitebeard clone)
Reader also wear a pair of season earrings because she hated using her devil fruit abilities
So basically the whitebeard pirates are doing everything to get reader better because she suffered mental, emotional, and physical pain
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(Can you also base reader of this? Reader is kinda base of my oc hehe)
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Oh and reader has a sentient plush that listen to her commands and is mute
Don't forget to eat sleep and drink! Have a good day!
-Nobody knew why a child was on the battlefield at Marineford, one that looked like a little doll, holding a stuffed rabbit toy, dressed in a delicate looking dress with bows and lace.
-You were on the side of the marines, but you looked almost angry, like you were upset as the scientist beside you, your handler, shouted at you, “Attack them!!”
-The pirates were appalled, seeing a child soldier, one so young looking, being commanded.
-The scientist lifted his hand to strike you, to get you moving and the moment you flinched, Whitebeard’s giant fist slammed into his face, sending him flying.
-You could feel the pressure he was exerting, Haki from what you remembered as you were facing away from Whitebeard, seeing where the scientist landed, and Whitebeard saw the brand on the back of your neck.
-He had been hearing rumors that the government had been cloning strong pirates and marines, to create an unstoppable army. And this brand was something he had seen in the reports he had been receiving, realizing that you were a clone.
-You turned back, and you squeaked as he instantly scooped you up before leaping back to his ship, putting you safely on the figurehead, “Stay here. You’ll be safe.”
-You didn’t believe him, all your life, despite being so short, you had grown not to trust adults, they were the ones who beat you, who locked you up, starving you, forcing you to hurt others, and with it, your mind broke, becoming a bit unhinged.
-You did stay however, as you saw the scientists and marines who had been so mean to you, trying to get to the ship, telling you to come back to them.
-This was your chance to escape and finally be free!
-When Ace was freed and all pirates were retreating, you grabbed your rabbit, feeling a little scared as all the pirates made it back, including the giant man who grabbed you earlier.
-As you started to sail away, many were looking over at you, before you heard a sound, “Let’s go back Y/N~”
-You turned, seeing Kizaru there and your eyes went wide as you took a step back in slight fear, not wanting to go back to the lab, while the men behind you were ready to charge in.
-Kizaru ran for you, and you clenched your eyes shut, throwing a hand towards him in a slapping motion and instantly he hit a wall, being blown back, just like Whitebeard’s ability, making jaws drop as you sent Kizaru flying.
-Everyone turned to you, eyes wide in shock as you sniffled softly, tears trying to well in your eyes. You hated using your ability, if felt weird and it made you tired.
-Marco came over and you instantly bristled, “Stay back pineapple head!”
-Your sassy words stunned everyone as quickly everyone was roaring with laughter while Marco was trying not to be mad at you as he kneeled, “What is your name?”
-You immediately bit back, “What’s it to you?” okay… you were kind of a brat, but Whitebeard spoke next, “You don’t need to act like this any longer, you’re safe here.”
-You didn’t bite back to Whitebeard, who was looking down at you like you were a shy little rabbit, now knowing that you were his clone, as you had his abilities, and his white hair. You knew this as well, as you had seen him fighting, using the same ability you had.
-Whitebeard turned to all the others on the ship, “Everyone- this is my daughter and your new sister, Y/N!” the ship was quickly filled with cheers, and you felt weird, why were they so happy you were with them as you glared, “Who says I’m your daughter?”
-He ruffled your hair gently, surprising you as you were expecting to be hit, your eyes going wide, which some of them saw, making them curious, and angry, about what you had dealt with.
-Whitebeard just chuckled softly, seeing the front you were putting up, “I do- so let’s go on an adventure together!” You knew about adventures, reading about them in your picture books as tears quickly welled in your eyes.
-Ace came over with a teasing grin, “Aww is our little sister crying?” you instantly glared, holding your bunny up like you were going to beat him with it, “I’m not crying!” They just laughed, thinking you were cute.
-You still didn’t trust them yet, but so far, they were being nice to you and not hurting you. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to stay with them for a while.
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purgatorytf · 1 day
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I wanted to say how flattered I was to hear I inspired your first story, but it seems to me like you’ve had this TF magic in you all along 😉 You’re off to an incredible start, each of your stories has been so hot to read - I’m curious to see how you’d change me? You know how much I love writing about big, pussy obsessed straight men: I wonder if you’ll make me one or an item that a man like that uses and abuses. Have fun with it, bro!
First of all i really want to thank you and all the other people who've sent me nice messages. I've loved transformation for a while now, and i've been feeling like i wanted to give back so it's nice to hear that i've been able to do that so far.
Hearing that from you is especially gratifying because i really love your stories bro. They've really been an inspiration for me when writing mine first ones. I guess that if this thing keeps working out for me and we keep writing about the same stuff… well we might have a bit of a rivalry on our hands haha…
"I wish i was joking … but honestly, i've really been thinking that. And honestly, you kinda offered yourself on a silver platter for me there. I'm sure you expected something fun with this but this is the perfect opportunity for me to take you out.
What's that look on your face ? This isn't what you wanted ? Well it's too late to turn back now bud. Besides, i already know exactly how you can be of use to me from now on"
With that, i snapped my fingers. You felt the effects instantly as your body wracked with immense pain. Twisting and distorting, your body adopted a new and improved form. You saw your skin become a pristine white as your flesh and bones restructured into a tightening weave of elastic fabric. You tried to scream at me to stop but you had already been silenced. Instead, your face reshaped itself into the front pouch of a pair of Calvin Klein underwear. As you fell on the floor, you struggled to take in your newly transformed world. Your mind was intact but all physical markers of who you once was were gone. Just a nice, brand new piece of clothing for me to ruin.
"Alright dude, just out of gratitude for the good times i had reading your stories, i'm willing you make you a deal. If you manage to keep your mind from breaking for one month then i will turn you back into a human. deal ? Well, i guess it's not like you have much of a choice anyway"
I took off my current underwear : a rank, soaked and yellowed thong. I threw it to the side on a pile of sportwear, all in a similarly perverted state.
"Don't look at the pile of used clothes over there bro. I promise you that it won't make you feel any better about what's coming for you" I stroked and jiggled my fat dick "And neither will looking at this huhu"
The literal gravity of your imminent fate set in. With a cocky smirk, i picked you up and slid you up my thick legs. Your wails of horror fell on deaf ears as your face pressed against my thick package, stretching and conforming to its every contour.
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"Hehe, you hug my nuts so tightly bro. It's almost like you were always meant to be down there, servicing my musky balls."
And musky they were. An immediate sensory overload took over your brain. The instant warmth made you gasp for air but all you could inhale were fumes of sweat and dried cum. This masculine stench quickly permeated the entirety of your being, making you struggle to form coherent thoughts. To top it all, the moistness made your body stick tightly against my manhood, unable to get away from this reeking nightmare.
"Sorry about that dude. I should warn you; once i start wearing a pair of undies, i never change out until they're ruined. That means that 24/7 for the next month i'm going to wear you, work out in you, sweat in you, i'm even gonna cum in you. Oh bro, i'm gonna completely wreck you."
"I promise you that it shouldn't even take a month to completely break you. But try not to panic, there's a moment when you'll embrace your new purpose as my nice, sweaty underwear and it'll all become very pleasant. If or when that happens is completely up to you bro. You get to choose if this experience will be a disgusting or a pleasurable one. But remember, your humanity is on the line huhu."
The reality of your new life for the coming month fully dawned on you. Sweat. Piss. Cum. Constantly. What you had been writing and reading about on your blog for fun finally became your intoxicating reality. You were worried your brains were already melting. How the hell were you supposed to last an entire month ??? You were struggling and begging for mercy against my big … snug …. balls …
Your suffering psyche desperately tried to rationalize what was happening to you. Maybe this was possible … You could just … take care of my goods for a month and then … everything would be fine. You just had to …. not break…
I laughed in satisfaction as i pressed you further against my cock. Inspiration for a hot new story already struck me but i needed to go work out first. I wanted to get you all nice and soaked so that i could get you to enjoy this.
"No hard feelings bro."
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Hi there!
I'm working on a character for a story I'm writing, where all the people have wings. The main character is a burn survivor, and it rendered her left wing useless when it came to flying. However, I wanted to have her get a kind of reconstruction surgery or a wing prosthetic to help her fly again. I've read a number of your posts, so I'm considering reworking this, but I wanted to know your perspective on it.
Also, if you can, do you have any resources on burn survivors and daily burn scar care?
Thanks!
Hi!
I think that you have a couple options when it comes to making her fly again!
Making her able to fly the same as before could be disability erasure somewhat, so I would warn against that. But that doesn't mean she can't fly at all!
If you decide to make her fly again;
It will take time. She shouldn't be able to relearn mobility in a week. Show it as a slow, time-consuming process. Depending on the exact injury it could be months or years.
Include physical therapy! Potentially other types as well, like occupational therapy. If it's a society where everyone has wings, I'm sure there would be specialists for this kind of stuff like we have for legs.
Recovery takes a lot of effort. It shouldn't come to her too easily. A lot of it is pain and fatigue and taking breaks to recover from recovering.
She might not be able to fly the exact same as before, even if you go with the above. You can have her fly shorter distances, have pain while doing it, or be fully unable to do it on some days.
When she does start to fly again, she could end up damaging her other wing via an overuse injury (her damaged wing wouldn't be able to keep up for at least a while). Recovery is a very non-linear process, and she could be coming back to physical therapy for new problems even after she relearns flying. That is a part of life for a lot of disabled people, for example manual wheelchair users having to do PT for shoulder strain injuries caused by pushing the wheelchair.
This way you can show the recovery process without erasing her disability at the end! Some disabled people do get better, but the point is to not make it a Magic Surgery that just fixes everything because that's not how it works most of the time. Sometimes it even opens up the doors to new problems - remember that both prosthetics and especially surgeries have very real complications.
For burn care, I recommend this post I made!
I hope this helps!
mod Sasza
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the-woman-upstairs · 16 hours
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Really fucked up that, when they’re young, Patrick and Art are SO tactile with each other, so comfortable sharing the same space. Art lets Patrick touch him and move him and physically overwhelm him and easily acquiesces to it, if not outright enjoying it.
Then in the present, they’ve been so far out of each other’s orbit for so long, held such animosity that when they have their moment alone in the sauna, Art physically recoils from Patrick’s close proximity! It’s so painful to watch because even as Patrick’s goading him, it’s so obvious he wants to be able to get back into Art’s space. But Art has erected all these walls around himself, he refuses to give Patrick an inch or even admit to missing how close they used to be!
AND THEN we see Art and Tashi later and he wants her to hold him, to be gentle with him, and just TOUCH him. Like, he does miss that kind of close physical contact! He either doesn’t know how to ask for it or is uncomfortable being that openly vulnerable. Worth noting that he pretty much always defers to Tashi in regard to initiating physical intimacy (with their first kiss, though he does state his desire, SHE has to be the one to make the first move). And it seems pretty obvious that Tashi herself isn’t comfortable providing that intimacy, whereas Patrick actively seeks to provide it (the hug/forehead kiss after their win together in the early years, dragging the stool closer to him).
Art has tried very hard to act like he doesn’t need physical affection and even though his discipline and devotion to Tashi has made him a stronger tennis player, it’s made him a hollow person, which, in turn, has kept him from becoming a GREAT tennis player.
All of this, of course, is why the ending hits so damn hard.
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trashogram · 14 hours
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He Chose You (Pt. 12)
Lucifer/Reader: Lucifer chooses you to be the mother of his child. Rated E for Explicit.
(LISTEN… this story has gotten out of control and I need help.)
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12
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“It’s alright, child.” Sera’s moods swung round like a revolving door. She could change and bend from someone motherly to a raging Force to an uninvolved observer in a millisecond. “You don’t know any better.”
She reach out and placed a hand on your cheek, perfectly warm and loving in her caress while her eyes remained like flint against the loveliest of features. “Everything has come to pass as it should. You’ll understand in time.” 
It made you sick. Your skin grew clammy as an acidic substance shot up your esophagus and your whole body pitched backward to escape.
You would’ve taken hours locked away with that asshole Adam before you stood another minute being condescended to by the Seraphim.
You were sulking, and you knew it, but you couldn’t stop. 
The building that you had been taken into to meet Sera in the first place served as some sort of Capital. It was grandiose and reached so high up that you couldn’t see where the damn ceiling ended. Perhaps it didn’t. 
You had to take great pains to escape it, navigating among high-ranking angels of all kinds filtering from both the ground and air above you in orderly chaos. It quickened your step to notice that a number of them did a double-take at seeing you. 
           They resembled different things, just as the angels outside did, although most of them appeared human-like. You wondered briefly if there was a rhyme or reason to it, or if God chose to make the woman you barely avoided running into resemble a moose because it made Him laugh. 
Once you’d escaped the war room, you had immediately breathed a little easier. Still, you continued on until you physically felt the tiny shocks and electric currents of warning ebb from your skin. It was as if Sera’s essence had stuck to you, her presence clinging to your frame to make a longer impression.
It had your skin tightening, muscles clenching as a chaotic flood of anxiety and fear prevented you from walking solidly. Too many ‘what if’s’ took you in and out of awareness, making you stumble over nothing. 
It had crossed your mind that Emily did not appear before you’d made yourself scarce. A part of you had wondered at that, feeling as though she’d have waited for you out of some concern for your wellbeing. 
Perhaps that was all for show, however. Sera was clearly excellent at appearing benevolent, and Emily had looked toward the Seraphim for guidance in front of you. It stood to reason that Emily could also be two-faced. 
The logic was sound and yet it made you wince, whether from shame at your incorrect judge or character —
‘Or how much she reminds me of Lucifer.’
You imagined Emily looking at you while stripped of any warmth and compassion. She quickly changed, morphing into Lucifer with hollow, unfeeling red eyes. 
It hurt.
Panic had you frozen in place a time or two before you’d gained a wide enough berth to stop. 
Beforehand you’d walked clouds so polished and flat you’d swear they were glass, amidst the more general population of Heaven with your arms wrapped around yourself. It felt needed when even those outside the Capital looked at you with interest, as if they knew. 
Maybe they did. Was it against the rules to keep secrets in Heaven? 
“We are literally judges, juries and executioners in Hell.”
“Executioners?” 
“What’re you talking about?” 
The recollection of a seemingly insignificant moment drew you to a halt. You stared at the pristine ground, fists knocking at your sides. The confusion on your face doubled when you looked up. 
Your ‘wide berth’ had led you far away from the crowds of perfectly content angels and their sleek, futuristic buildings. Farther than you’d anticipated, as ahead of you lay a line of trees that thickened into a dense forest. 
Like Earth, Heaven had a variety of terrains — or so it would seem. Child-like curiosity had you crossing the line between airy openness and into the thicket of pines. All varieties of fir, pine, and larch coexisted with one another, bowing and swaying in the wind. There was nothing to be afraid of, but a sense of oddity hung in the air as you walked a perfectly sculpted path. 
The smell of damp earth and lilies rose from the ground at your feet. A warm breeze rustled the hair that hung limply around your face. Birds sung merrily above you, flitting from branch to branch. 
It occurred to you that no matter how deep you traveled into the woods, the sunlight never waned. 
And yet faintly you heard roaring. It was distant but growing louder with every step you took. 
It was not an animal nor man calling out to you from far away. You felt the change as the smell of sap intermingled with that of salt on the wind, and the floor turned from nettles and moss to pale sand. 
You rubbed your eyes as the trees parted and seemed to disappear as they revealed a beautiful, sparkling sea. 
Sun cast off the surface of the ocean, bouncing against a kaleidoscope of multicolored clouds surrounding it. And you had Dejá vu before blinking away the flash of purple and honey in your eyes. 
You watched tiny waves as they fell against the shoreline, seafoam disappearing within moments. It continued, mesmerizing you, as you ambled toward it. When the water finally rushed over your feet, it carried tiny seashells that scuttled around you. And unlike the ocean you were familiar with, this one was a perfect temperature, no acclimation required. 
For the first time since arriving in Heaven, you felt yourself smiling genuinely. 
You gave into the urge to squish the wet sand between your toes and waded into the water up to your ankles. Your worries began to wash away with each pull of the tide, slow and steady. 
Eventually, you meandered away from that singular spot and began to trek parallel to the shore. The sun never got in your eyes nor did the sand get whipped up and blow into your mouth. Everything from the waves to the breeze was gentle. 
As were the eyes that were upon you. 
As soon as you felt that stare, you stopped in your tracks. Just the thought of turning to them was daunting. 
You don’t have to look, but you do. 
There’s a woman with you now, with hair so long and blonde it’s almost white. Her chin, lips, nose, and eyes are delicate and soft.
Eve had lingered upon your every step once you’d arrived in her neck of the woods. 
She was glad to see that the effects of the beach it hid were enough to soothe you, even if it was more of a distraction than a cure. You deserved something good, even if it was relatively meager compared to everything you’d endured up to this point. 
Your figure grew smaller as you crossed the sand, away from the first woman’s hiding spot. You were none the wiser, engrossed in the soothing give and take of the water. It made it easier for Eve to creep up the beach only a few paces away, free to follow your path without ruining your tranquility. 
It reminded Eve of a simpler time when she was the one being eyed curiously from afar. 
*** Tag List: @crescent-z, @for-hearthand-home, @undertale-is-sansational, @loslox, @navierkalani, @yaimlight, @ivoryviness, @crystalplays28, @flowerempress, @wally-darling-hyperfixation, @altruisticradiodemon, @moonlight-readings, @halparkebitch, @charliecharlie65, @sockgoblin, @cocomollo, @caniseethefourthsword, @squeegeeclean, @crow-twink, @an-emovision, @marydragneell, @lafy-taffy, @fandom-imagines1, @loquacious-libra, @glowymxxn, @avadakadabra93, @froggybich, @hamthepan, @ukor02, @adaizel, @boogiemansbitch, @vinillies, @lbcreations-blog, @thesoundresoundsecho, @serenity-loves-red, @alientee, @aquaamythest96, @0strawberrysorbet0, @fluffy-koalala, @washeduphazbin, @rebecca-hvnstn, @velvette3, @kermitdafroggy, @wpdarlingpan, @apatcheworkofproblems, @cherry-cola-100, @pink-apples001, @al-of-the-stars, @backinthefkingbuildingagain, @martinys-world, @alastorssimp, @wobblesthewaffle, @shikiribee, @undertale-anomaly20, @asakura-fangirl-stuff, @ringsofpersonti, @angelicwillows, @wingoodlilboymyway, @cimadreamer, @museofzealoushope, @oneiric-rotaerc, @call-me-nyxx, @darling-angel222, @elementwind91, @bloody-delusion-expert, @martinys-world, @devilslittlebabyxx
Forgive me if I forgot to tag you or the tags don’t work, I don’t know what that keeps happening.
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jinxedmuse · 2 days
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best friend - lee sohee, 이소희
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in which: your best friend sohee offers a "no strings attached" relief from the stress of your relationship but finds himself falling in too deep.
an: don't know if you guys have listened to sohee's playlist but he has a lot of romantic songs on there, mainly best friends to lovers centric or heartbroken ones and it made me want him even more..
warnings: cheating, accidental overstimulation, rough sub!sohee, multiple orgasms, lots of whining and begging from sohee, lowk manipulative, degradation, pet names, oral, sohee is older than reader by like 4 months, reader's bf is eunseok...
playlist: sex eden, get up newjeans, like you do joji, to. ex taeyeon, i feel it coming wknd
wc: 2.1k... been going feral over sohee the last couple of days, had to get it out my system, consider this my comeback?
movie nights at your place on friday were a mandatory tradition you've had with your best friend, lee sohee for over five years.
this year, due to a recent (almost a year) addition to your life (a boyfriend) the sense of freedom that came with this night significantly decreased. what was supposed to be a night to catch up with your best friend, free of stress from external sources had turned into check-ins with your boyfriend every hour or so and an uncomfortable amount of distance between you and sohee, physically as well.
this wasn't necessarily because your boyfriend saw sohee as a threat, i mean, he looked like a mini duck you win at a fair or something. sohee is shy but humorous, mischievous but respectful. yet your boyfriend always felt like something was (in his words) "off" about how sohee always stuck at your side sometimes s little too literally and close for comfort.
you dismissed it, insisting your close relationship had stemmed from a bond built off being relentlessly teased together since high school. that, "sohee isn't like that. we're just best friends is all. trust me" you'd say, fully believing yourself as well, because how could your relationship ever change after 5 years?
easy.
you were currently sending your boyfriend his 3rd "update" within the past hour. you hear a loud sigh coming from sohee's side of the couch. you finish sending your text before looking up.
"i know, i know. sorry, you know how he is, just overprotective is all" you say in defense, already knowing what your best friend was about to complain about.
sohee doesn't face you, instead, laser-focused on the movie you both were barely even watching. trying to ignore the heavy change in dynamic ever since you got into a relationship.
"i know" he starts whining, twisting the hem of the throw cover that was over his lower half, a heavy feeling in his heart. "it's just that we hardly get to hang out together as it is, and when we do you're glued to your phone."
you weighed on his words while looking at him. his voice was soft and shaky but showed no signs of tears in his eyes. his beauty marks scattered all around his face, some trailing in his collarbones and ears. fueled by a sudden pang of guilt you toss your phone onto the table in front of you and crawl over to shoes side of the couch. earning a sly smile from the smaller-framed boy.
"this close? how scandalous" he jokes, opening up the throw cover so you can get underneath it with him. safe distance, of course. you sling an arm around him immediately earning a groaned laugh as he tries to push you off. you tussle his hair until his grip gurns into more of a pained restrict with one hand and he lands you onto your back.
sohee is now on top of you, both his legs at each of your sides, his necklace, part of the set the two of you had although you haven't been wearing yours recently hanging in front of your face. his oversized shit that was a little too big for him leaving a gap between the collar and his neck, chest slightly exposes.
you were too engulfed in his scent, clean laundry, one you've always found comforting, to realize he was full-on staring at your lips. a hard-on slowly forming and straining against his cargo pants.
"why do you keep forgetting i'm older than you, huh?" he teases. the truth is sohee is older than you by 4 months. however, when you first met (since you were already in the same grade) you were so adamant about dropping honorifics. insisting that technically you were "same-age friends."
once you realize he's staring at your lips your mouth suddenly goes dry, and you push out a forced laugh. trying to ignore the heat coming from between your legs, suddenly realizing how heavy he feels on top of you. You couldn't bring yourself to push sohee off despite how wrong it was. this was still innocent, right?
"i didn't forget," you say, your own eyes now stuck on his pink lips "i just don't care." you tease back, trying to overturn the situation but his grip remains steady, not letting you get up. just feeble squirms now and then.
do you not see me as a man? he asked, it was a whimper the way it came out so whiny. you giggle at this, not taking the boy on top of you seriously.
he tilts his head, sizing you up and down. eyes stopping right at your boobs, your nipples hard and visible through your thin shirt. he shifts his weight so that now he's sitting directly on top of you. his bulge that was now rock hard right over your heat. "don't you want things to go back to the way they were?" he asked innocently.
you feel like a spell had been cast on you, his slight pressure on your cunt caused it to flex around nothing, aching to be touched but you couldn't do that to your boyfriend. you shake your head in disagreement. "what do you mean sohee, and why are you still on me idiot" you ask jokingly, trying to lighten the tension in the room now. the movie was long forgotten.
"oh cmon' he starts again, "don't you ever get bored of" he gets interrupted by your phone ringing, a special tone you had set for only your boyfriend. it was starting to piss sohee off.
why was his precious time with you always getting interrupted by your insolent waste of a boyfriend? "of that" he grunted out, dipping so that his member was now grinding down on you. you hold back your moans, throwing your head back. ashamed at the amount of pleasure you felt.
this isn't right, you tried to reason with yourself. you have a boyfriend, sohee is your best friend, but fuck, does it feel good the way he was messily rutting himself against you. practically dry humpin' you.
"sohee." you managed to choke out through moans "this isn't right" you object, fighting your hands from going up and pulling him closer to you.
"it's not cheating if you don't do anything back, just let me make you feel good please, huh princess? don't you remember how good i was? don't you want to know how much i improved" he asks, leaving slopping kisses down your neck, his slim hands roaming all over your body, tugging at your clothes.
he was currently referring to back what happened on a hot summer day during freshmen year up in your old tree house that barely fit the growing bodies of two best friends. you can still remember how hot it was, sweat sticking to your bodies before you had even started anything.
your frames uncomfortable in the one-size-too-small tree house, it was awkward, but it felt so sexy back then, and yet as soon as he was done, the reality of what you had done hit you and you couldn't look at each other for a week once school started.
once you got over it, you vowed to never do something as reckless to your friendship as that again.
2 years later during senior year, you fucked. you were each other's first, and you both wanted to "get it out the way" as college was right at your doorsteps. the nerve-wracking idea of losing it to some stranger didn't make sense, right? i mean what better way to lose it than in the back of your first car, during the first snow of winter, with your best friend, for your first time?
you had both pushed it aside. vowing it was just to not be behind your college peers and to never speak of it again. not wanting to add to the statics of why "men and women can't be friends", whatever that meant. sohee entered and left a few relationships after that. always breaking them off because he got bored after a certain point. he was single right now, opposite to you who was in a relationship.
this was wrong. every fiber of your being knew it was wrong but it was the first time you and sohee were alone together in a while. His eyes were full of lust, everything about him currently oozed sex appeal and you wanted him badly. there was no denying that with the way your cunt kept clamming around nothing, begging for attention.
sohee takes one of his hands and brings it down to your cunt, the heat he feels coming from it is almost instant. "look at you, acting like you don’t want it but you’re so fucking turned on right now" he says as he rubs his hand onto your clothed cunt.
you bite your lip, holding back a moan at his vulgar words. "it's a normal bodily reaction if you’re practically humping me, i have a boyfriend." you beg, eyes leading yet your body betraying you every time he gently rubs your pussy.
"who do love more?" he asks getting closer, “my boyfriend" you pathetically strain out at a last attempt to redeem yourself for doing this. he licks your ear lov slowly, biting the too which earns a moan from you before trailing back down to your neck with small wet pecks. his hand was still on your cunt and you were now grinding onto it.
"who makes you feel better huh? me?" he asks when he gets to your breast, he removes his hand from your cunt earning a desperate mewl from you, immediately missing his touch on you.
"look at you, rutting your desperate little pussy to get some relief from your best friend, but you expect me to believe you love your boyfriend? huh, whore?" he growls in between sloppy kisses and sucks to your nipple, twisting them every time you shook your head to try and tried to deny his (very true) allegations.
he watches as your back arches from the sofa a bit, his aching cock begging to be freed but he isn't satisfied yet. he takes the other hand that was holding both of yours up and brings it down to your cunt, slipping into your extremely short shorts and going over your delicate panties
you were already wet, his fingers slipping against your puffy lips way too easily. “look at you~~~~" he says in a mocking tone, "all wet for me, baby? beg and i’ll make you feel good" he taunts unto your ear. you nod your head immediately "please sohee, f-fuck i need you to touch me"
"i’m sorry slut, what was that?"
you chase his fingers, eyes teary at his teasing "please, hee fuck me" you cry in desperation, nails digging into his shirt, pulling him closer.
at this point, you were too horny to care about how desperate you seemed, becoming an incoherent mess full of whining and begging.
sohee falls completely apart, drooling at your blubbering mess, he likes two of his slim digits, pointer, and middle finger, and thrust them into your throbbing cunt, curling them slightly,
your back arches almost completely off the couch, both your hands gripping his forearms in pure bliss, eyes shut in concentration on how good it all feels.
his slim digits entering and exiting you with such precision and a bit of roughness, curling up in all the right spots had you panting excessively, beads of sweat already forming on your forehead.
the faster and harsher he went, occasionally bringing his yup to play with your budded clit, you clam harder around him. suffocating his fingers, they dragged out of you in a way that made you see stars when you were dizzy.
"fuck-fuck, hee i think, nghnnn, i'm about to, fuck, come" you wring it, spit at the side of your mouth from it being slack open as you moaned underneath him, chest heaving up and down
your pathetic state doesn't take away from sohee's own though; he's as much of a whining, moaning mess as you are. his head all foggy from how pretty you looked underneath him, sweat coating your soft skin as your puffy lips were wrapped around his fingers. his member was practically budging out of his pants, beads forming on his forehead in concentration but last minute he got an idea.
he pulls out his fingers with a swiftness that makes you practically cry. your eyes snap open, a pout as you look at him. confused at this sudden action. "let me stuff myself inside you and then taste your cum, huh? what do you think about that princess~~" he asks in his usual teasing voice. moments like this when he was giving you brain fog you remembered he was your best friend.
but that didn't matter right now, you needed to be fucked dumb. so you just nod your head like a pathetic bitch in heat and he smiles, quickly unzipping his pants and pulling down his boxers.
his dick is now free and you almost faint at the sight. he was clean-shaven, with balls the perfect size for you to cup in your hand. he wasn't huge or even too thick but he was long, long, and veiny, his dick was a light hue of pink while his tip was beaming red. streams of pre cum endlessly flowing out. you moaned at the sight, looking at it with begging eyes.
he's satisfied with your reaction, knowing you hadn't seen it since that night two years ago during senior year in the back seat of your car. he suddenly felt like he was on top of the world, an ego boost surging through him as he watched how you looked at his member longingly.
he gives his dick a few pumps over your cunt, his cum leaking onto you, "you want me to stuff you baby? all bare while you have a man waiting for your call?"
his questions bring heat to your cheeks, God you were such an asshole for this but you needed sohee so desperately you felt like you were going to cry if you didn't have him inside you. you watch the way his cum leaks into you as he's pumping himself above you and you find yourself subconsciously bringing up your lower body so your cunt could meet up.
he pushes you back down, a smirk on his face
"be patient, it's the least a whore could do" with one last painful squeeze he takes both your legs and put them onto his shoulders, he aligns himself with your core and spit on his hand, slapping your cunt one last time before inserting his tip into.
you let out an animalistic mewl at how much pleasure that simple act gave you but you barely have any time to adjust yourself before he slams himself fully into you
you try to pull back away, but the pressure was too much, you looked down and felt like you could see his cock slamming in and out of you. it was so slim and long that it hit all the right places on the first try. your chest was heaving up and down the same way it did after you ran a marathon or chased after your bus. the amount of pleasure you were experiencing was driving you crazy, he pulled you back in by your waist, eyebrows furrowed.
you felt so full like you were about to pee. "I can't; fuck i'm-close can't take it" you cry out trying out again to back up but he takes both his hands and cozily and pushes himself deeper into you, he hit the spot that makes you cum and as if on the command you do exactly that. a mix of squirting and creamy come going all over his balls and coating his base, even getting on his toned stomach. fuck he was in love
the sight of you coming and moaning all because of him has him doing the same, he holds your waist in position and cums in you, not pulling out until you were full of every last drop of his seed. you felt yourself practically getting filled up as if you had just eaten. the feeling was pure ecstasy, your boyfriend always pulled out even when you begged.
you stare at each other for a moment, what was once lust got replaced by something else which stirred a desire in the pits of your stomach. you get interrupted by the rining if that special tone once more, you start to reach f for it but sohee grabs your hand and slams it down next to you.
"don't," he says sternly. it was supposed to sound like a command but it almost sounded like he was begging, pleading for your attention to stay on him. you nodded with starry eyes, still coming down from the incredible high he had just given you.
he crouches down and you sit up halfway on your elbows sorta confused, suddenly he pulls your in and hurridly barries his face into your cunt. it started a lot romantic as if he were making out with your cunt. delicate kisses to your inter thigh, slower pulling on your lips, and tender licks on your clit. you sigh in bliss, but you lose your balance when he strikes his tongue into your core, a finger at your clit playing with it in a circular motion that has you moaning profanities.
his tongue would occasionally go flat to slurp up the combination of both your juices, your cum mixed was now coated on his tongue and around his offy pink lips, he ate you out like he was a starved animal. his grip on your hip grew firmer the more you moaned his name. his dick was now slightly hard again and he found himself pathetically rutting against the couch as he ate you out to offer himself some form of relief.
you come again, this time in his mouth and he doesn't waste a second licking up all your wetness, moaning at how good you taste, drowning you in praises for coming for him twice. your leg was shaking, toes curled at the overstimulation when suddenly siri starts reading out loud a recent message sent 1 minute ago:
"eunseokie says: 'why haven't you been answering? i'm outside, i'm coming up now.' one minute ago. Would you like to reply?"
"NO", you yell out in a rush, sitting up and suddenly too aware of your current state sohee lifts his head, he sees the look on your face and knows his fun with you is over.
sohee purposely drags his tongue out of you at a slow, painful pace that ears one last moan out from you before he sits up, throwing his head back onto the couch while pulling up his boxers and pants, stuffing his still aching cos into them.
you get off the couch and look around for your panties but they are still in sohee's pants, you bend down and reach for them from his pocket but even with his eyes closed he gets a grip on your wrist and shakes his head. "don't even bother"
you let out an exasperated huff, legs still far too weak to be arguing right now. you calculated in your head and realized your boyfriend, eunseok should be coming up in approximately two minutes. you take a crumbled-up napkin from your table and use it to wipe anything off yourself before moving sohee out of the way you were down the couch before tossing it in the bin.
you then grab the throw blanket you were wearing and throw it into the washer, tossing in a random detergent before starting it.
"c'mon, sohee don't do this to me you have to go before he gets her-" your sentence is cut off by the sound of keys jiggling.
sohee gets up, and he looks at you in a way that makes your heart hurt. he runs a hand through his hair before he leans in to kiss you, catching you completely off guard. you don't let yourself enjoy the kiss, backing up before wiping your lips with the back of your hand, eyes almost popping out of your sockets.
you hear the door open and sohee smirks, smiling as he makes his way to the from. you follow loosely behind him.
sohee and eunseok met right at the door as sohee was bending down to finish tying up his shoes.
"ah, hyung nice to see you again," sohee says as he pulls together his most polite smile, even sticking out his hand for a handshake. eunseok looks down at it and shakes it, giving a curt smile as he enters.
"are we close enough for you to call me hyung" he asked, you'd be lying if you said he didn't look good. jet black hair parted to the side, a cocky and passive-aggressive smile plastered on his face. sohee noticed the way you looked at eunseok and felt bitterness grow in his heart, and that was the one thing he had never been.
you clear your throat and approach your boyfriend, slightly limping before wrapping your arms around his neck, eunseok drops sohee's hands and pulls you into an embrace by your waist. it hurts slightly because sohee was just gripping them but you plaster your fake smile, holding back a whimper of pain. sohee looks at you both before he heads out the door.
with you still at his side, eunseok holds the door handle, watching the younger boy in front of him with daggers.
"ah, there's something on your lip, over here" eunseok points out to the younger boy, pointing a finger to his top lip to point out where the "thing" is.
soheee brings his finger up to where it is and looks at his hand after, it was your wetness, still on his face, in front of your fucking boyfriend. you mentally face-palm yourself and pray to the universe your boyfriend is too fired to guess what that is.
sohee drags it into his mouth, strategically sucking on his finger with an innocent smile. "thanks hyung, reader gave me a nice, warm, toaster struddle earlier. i'm a bit of a messy eater tho" he says with a slightly narcissistic laugh as he shoves his hands into his pocket, you can see in one pocket he's fumbling with something, your panties to be exact.
yeah, time to wrap this up, you thought to yourself before tugging in eunseok's long-sleeved leather jacket, you pulled him back before giving sohee a curt nod and apologetic smile that only the two of you knew.
sohee's heart felt heavy, and you couldn't put it into words but yours did too. he gave a nod back as if all was fine as if he understood but you could tell by the look on his face that his heart was breaking right in front of you and you were the cause, you slowly shut the door but your boyfriend locks it before you could even register the situation you almost got caught in and the heavy feeling in your chest.
eunseok pulls you away from the door, sighing as he walks and leads you to your living room, the living room where you just came twice.
you look up once you hear eunseok cough a bit and let go of your hand, plopping down on your couch.
"by the way, why is the washing machine on so late?'
--
an: hey! muse here, how'd you enjoy this short nonsense i whipped up after almost 6 months(?) of ghosting you all, haha.. but really, if i told you guys everything that happened to me since what i last dropped, you wouldn't even believe me. i'm still quite busy but i missed you guys, and i missed writing. i'm not going to make any promises on how frequently i'll update but for now, fuck it, why not say i'm back lol. i hope you guys enjoyed :)
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wintfleur · 2 days
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🍂 ͡ ꒱ JULIETTES RELATIONSHIP WITH HER BROTHERS
au masterlist - everything for the AU is under #🍂 ͡ ꒱ Juliette Leclerc
𐙚 LORENZO!
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Lorenzo . . . ‘Enzo’ is the best big brother, he’s such a role model for her, and she’s always looked up to him.
He’s always been her voice of reason and encouragement, helping her calm down her emotions and not do anything rash, to help her understand what she’s feeling and to listen to what she says and, to always be there to cheer her up and help her out of those dark feelings.
Enzo was the first person she told when she realized she also wanted to kart.
Enzo helped teach her how to drive with there father, Arthur and Charles to scared to get in the car, claiming that she’s ‘going to kill them and drive into a store’ Julie did end up threatening to kill them in a more private and painful way because of all there teasing. Neither of them got in a car with her for months.
Julie gets sister privileges !!!
They have there weekly calls, checking in and making sure everything is good.
Enzo is the best advice giver! And she knows she can talk to him about anything
She loves just curling up in his side.
Just the sweetest big brother ever.
Has have had to pick Julie up at parties when she’s gotten too drunk . . . many times.
They both definitely laugh and tease the other two when they are being dramatic
He loves his little sister very much and will do anything for her!
𐙚 CHARLES!
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Out of all her siblings, she’s definitely the closest to Charles, ever since they were kids.
Yes they had their fair share of arguments and fights, but they have always stuck up for each other no matter what, they can only mess with each other . . . no one else!
They’re each other’s safe place, they both understand the pressure they are both under, and they really help each other out.
Charles was the first person Julie told when she realized that she liked girls as well. And he was the one who helped her gain the courage to come out.
Charles is always the first person to defend her, from the media, interviewers, from anyone. He will not have his sister disrespected.
They both absolutely love their family, planning outings and get togethers for all of them!
They see each other the most
They had a tree house! And would always tease Arthur about not being cool enough to come up and hang with them.
He’s the most nosey brother, wanting to know everything going on in her life . . . but he means well !
They have had some moments where their career has put some strain on their relationship, but it doesn’t last long. It’s just because Julie hates talking about her feelings, and Charles loves talking about hers . . . aka avoidance from Julie.
He loves having sleepovers at her homes!
Sassy duo fr!
They are always messing with each other! And the media absolutely loves it.
You know that tiktok sound ‘this is bob, bob loves his personal space. This is Larry, Larry also loves bob’s personal space’ that’s them, bob is Julie and Larry is Charles.
Sees Julie’s soft side the most
𐙚 ARTHUR!
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That’s her baby . . . no one messes with her baby (yes she’s only a year older . . . but still, he’s her baby)
Julie is Arthur’s favorite sibling and he’s very open about it, Arthur was quite the emotional kid and despite his outburst or over reactions, Julie was always there for him, to help him out, calm him down and, to let him know that he’s not crazy about his feelings
Julie has always been there for Arthur to listen to his worry’s about driving and what his future is in the sport, he trusts her opinion and thoughts more than anyone else.
Arthur hates how every single one of his friends are in love with Julie, and Julie just loves teasing him about it, always giving them a sweet smile and wave.
Arthur is quite clingy towards Julie, physically and emotionally.
Always wanting to sit next to her, get her attention, all of it. I mean, she’s the cool older sister.
He loves practicing his English with her!
He’s also like her biggest fan
He can get a little petty and upset if things don’t go his way with her . . . aka he’s super dramatic.
Arthur loves all of her cooking and baking, like he could eat it all.
First time he got really drunk, he called up Julie and cried, only crying harder when she giggled and tried to reassure him.
He’s always the last one to warm up to Julie’s significant others.
They love watching movies!
Arthur is quite attached to julie, has a fear that she will leave them.
˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( this is pretty short, but I hope it gives you a good idea of Julie’s relationship with her brothers !! She’s a family woman definitely !! Please let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist )
°. — taglist ( @lovings4turn @toasttt11 @cixrosie @ru-kru @alwaysclassyeagle @theopenlocker @lavisenri @callsignwidow )
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fuckyeahisawthat · 24 hours
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I've been obsessed with @demon-of-the-ancient-world's post about Paul bandaging his own wounds after the duel with Feyd ever since I saw it. Partially because I am pretty sure he would not be physically able to do it, but he sure would try. So have a little thing.
Eventually, he is able to stop giving orders and having them fervently obeyed long enough to limp over to the hallway leading out of the war room. With every step, he is figuring out how to better hide the limp. His side still fucking hurts.
Close to the relief of the cool dark hallway, he spots a familiar face. Mari, the medic from his old band of fedaykin. Her gaze falters as he approaches.
"Bandages," he requests. At least his voice is still coming out steady.
She fishes in her pack and pulls out a roll. Holds it out to him like an offering, her fingers retreating as soon as he takes it.
She'd once held him down with a knee on his back while she pulled a piece of shrapnel out of his shoulder. Now she is afraid to touch him.
"More," he rasps.
She produces another roll. That should be enough.
There's a little anteroom just off the main chamber. A few Fremen trail after him as he heads there.
"Guard the door," he says to no one in particular. "No one enters." He shuts them all out.
He doesn't remember what this room was used for, in the brief time that he had lived here. It's empty now, save for a stone platform that runs along one wall at waist height. He drops the rolls of bandages on the platform and sags against it.
As soon as he lets the control slip, a wave of nausea washes over him. His head is pounding, blood drying tacky and itchy on his face, and with every breath it feels like both knives are still inside him.
Focus. He hears it in his mother's voice. She taught him this, how to reach inside himself and master pain. Attention stretching inward, finding the nerve endings that are screaming and shutting them down. He'd practiced with an embroidery needle pricking his finger. This is a bit more than that.
He concentrates until everything still hurts, but not so much that he's going to pass out. Probably. Then he starts working the fastenings of his stillsuit loose.
He gets the shoulder straps released and the moisture seal broken at the main seam, but then he's stuck. Pulling the suit off his left shoulder requires raising his right arm, and that comes with a spike of pain and an abrupt tilt of the floor underneath him. He grabs the edge of the platform and has to spend some more time working on not passing out. Starting with his right shoulder proves no better; twisting his torso in that direction makes his vision gray at the edges.
He's leaning heavily against the stone platform trying to figure out what to do when there's a commotion at the door. He hauls himself into standing up straight just as a young man, wide-eyed and with blood all down the front of his stillsuit, gets shoved into the room. "Forgive me, Lisan al-Gaib," the man says. "The scarfless warmaster insists on entering."
It takes him a minute to realize who he is talking about. "Let him in."
The man retreats, and Gurney steps into the room. "My lord." His gaze takes in the bandages, the pathetic progress he's made on removing his stillsuit. He closes the door behind him. "If I may."
Paul nods.
As soon as Gurney peels the stillsuit back from his injured shoulder, he realizes he never could've done it alone. It's a two-handed job, easing his arm out of the garment, and he needs his one free hand to bite down on to keep from making noise.
Gurney helps him slide the suit down to his waist. His torso is painted with blood but there's nothing to clean it with now. Best to focus on keeping any more from coming out.
Together they bandage his side, then his shoulder. Gurney's hands are not unkind but they are pragmatic, efficient, not flinching away from his wounds but not lingering either. There is no talking save Paul telling him to wrap the bandage tighter.
He remembers a time, long ago. Sitting on a storage chest in the staging room of the parade grounds below Castle Caladan, watching Gurney help his father put his armor on.
There had been a surrender--of whom, he can't remember. He could not have been more than five or six at the time. Generals of the army they'd just defeated coming to sign the armistice agreement, but with enough resentment about it that everyone was nervous, and his father was wearing armor to declare peace.
There had been no talking then, either. Just Gurney moving practically around his father, an extra pair of hands for pauldrons and breastplate and greaves, while his father practiced the speech he was going to give under his breath, making subtle adjustments to tone and emphasis along the way. He doesn't remember the speech, only the feeling, Gurney preparing his father's body while his father prepared himself in other ways.
That is what is happening now.
Once they get his shoulder wrapped as tight as they can, Gurney helps him ease the stillsuit back on. Gurney still needs some direction to get it laced properly, the Fremen way, but having another pair of hands to pull the straps tight over his shoulders means he only has to grit his teeth, not spend time waiting for the room for stop spinning.
He takes a few test steps across the room. The bandage around his ribs restricts his breathing a little, but it makes walking slightly less painful. That will do.
He pulls himself up to his full height, straight-backed, head held high. The posture of an emperor. Ready for battle.
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