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#step 2) apply soap
arctic-hands · 3 months
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I wish contact tracing was still a thing AND they were tracing every major contagious disease rn. Would love to scream in the left ear of the rotten pig who didn't wash their hands and gave me norovirus
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baddiewiththebook · 8 months
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ONE OF THE BOYS [PART 3]
-> While you pine hopelessly over your best friend, Eddie Munson. You hear the sentiment 'one of the boys' one too many times and you've decided to change that. All in the name of the one boy who won't even look at you, or so you think.
-> eddie munson x you (she/her)
-> friends to lovers, slow burn, angst
-> warnings - strong language and suggestive themes [no smut]
-> a/n Oh, my god. When I tell y’all that everything that could have gone wrong, went wrong. I stayed up all night writing and editing just to get it out today, so you don’t have to wait another week when I’m off from work again. Yesterday, I was going to surprise y’all with a back to back upload, but when my laptop died and all of my content got deleted, I needed a pause. Anyway, I hope you enjoy Part 3 of a series I didn’t know would become a series.
[Part 2] Part 3
-> <-
You decide to wake up at five because your eyes wouldn’t stay shut any longer. Ripping the blankets off your body, the cool air nips at your skin. You shove your toes into your slippers. Tripping over your tennis shoes, you rethink how close you are to your desk. Feeling around for the corner, you find the desk and you begin to aim yourself the other way. You yelp when your waist collides into the doorknob and you silently curse to yourself while trying desperately not to wake your family. Shuffling through the dark, you take mini steps to your bathroom.
Closing the door behind you, you flick on bathroom light. Squinting, your eyes adjust and the shock of the bright room dulls. You use the toilet first, before your bladder combusts. While washing your hands, you meet your own face in the mirror.
Mornings weren’t your best look. Your hair mats to one side because you’re a side sleeper. Sometimes when your sick you’ll lay on your back to keep your stomach from getting nauseous. Instead of drying your hands on a towel, you toss them back into your hair to mold and shape what’s on your head. Massaging your scalp, you forget your worries for a moment. You wash your hands of the hair that sticks to your hands, and then you dry them off.
You bounce back from the shower when you twist the hot water handle. Water splashes in your face anyway. Steam breathes into your bathroom and you almost feel suffocated by the hot air. That’s what wakes you up in the morning. You strip, then step inside allowing the beads of hot water to bake your skin. The soap you use is plain and boring. It moisturizes the layers of your skin without leaving a scent behind. You watch the bubbles drain below you.
Leaving the shower is harder to you then getting back in. Your day will begin as soon as you step out. Going to school feels like a chore. Your classes all have projects due by the end of the week or by the end of the month. Then there’s the obvious boy you are trying to avoid. Before you can imagine any lewd situations between yourself and him (and trust that you have plenty), you switch off the water to your shower.
You don’t like washing your face in hot water, so you wait until your dry and you have a towel wrapped around your body. The icy water pricks at your pores. You dry, and you apply a thick layer of moisturizer to your skin.
Finding yourself vulnerable in a towel, and thrown into darkness once again because you have forgotten your clothes in your bedroom, you shimmy across the hallway once again.
When you choose a lotion, you act as though you won’t pick the same option you have been for as long as you can remember. The label reads ‘Fruity.’ Simple enough. Throwing on an extra spritz of perfume to compliment the lotion. You like to spray perfume while you’re bare to ensure the smell sticks to you, rather than your clothes.
Wrapping yourself in your robe, you want to take a peak at the sky. Rain clouds form above. Gray all day. You happen to, also, see that Eddie’s trailer is dark. Wayne Munson’s truck is on, and he’s in the driver’s seat waiting for the engine to warm. He goes to work early, and he stays late. That’s how you got to spend so many days and nights at Eddie’s growing up.
You’d tell your mom that you were spending the night with your friend Robin, and she would cover for you in a heartbeat. She must have known what was going on before you did. Did that even count - if you didn’t know?
You shy away from the window.
Going through your closet, you find an acceptable pair of denim that’s right on your hips and loose at your ankles. The striped sweater you call your favorite will scratch at you skin all day, so you put on a plain shirt on underneath.
If the you from a few months ago, saw you sitting at your desk whipping out all of the tools and the sponges that it took to apply makeup to your skin, you’d shrivel in a corner and cry. You got used to the feeling of the brushes against your skin. The way your face feels with a bit of foundation. And the sticky feeling of mascara pressing on your eyes.
As you finish powdering your nose, your stomach growls. Your hungry.
The sun is beginning to wake, and you’re able to move through the home a bit smoother. You find yourself in the kitchen pawing through the refrigerator. No one has gone grocery shopping in a few weeks, so your options are limited.
You take the box of Honey Comb cereal off the top of the fridge. A bowl off the drying rack will do, and there’s even a spoon next to it. You pluck out your mom’s cigarettes that she “hides” inside the box. She doesn’t count them when she smokes, so you know that you can sneak one into your pocket for later.
After pouring yourself a bowl of cereal, and stealing your mom’s cigarettes, you grab the milk from the fridge. It’s heavy. When you open the milk the rancid sour odor spoils your appetite.
“Jesus!” You curse.
The expiration reads about a week ago. Gross.
You toss the milk.
Even though you’re completely grossed out, you shovel a few bites of dry cereal down your throat. Dipping your head under the sink for a drink of water, you slurp down the crumbs sticking to the sides of your mouth.
By the time you’ve brushed your teeth, your watch reads seven fifteen in the morning. If you head to school now, you’ll be there by seven thirty.
That’s exactly what you do.
The drive is quiet. Most of the town hasn’t woken yet for their day. Shops still have signs in their window that read ‘Closed.’
You’re allowed into the cafeteria with the other early birds once you get to school. Finding a group of girls you’re in home room with, they welcome you for a study session.
“You look so pretty,” Michelle gushes over your makeup.
You smile. “You too. I love your shirt.”
“I got it on sale,” she tells you the name of the store. “We should all go shopping on Saturday.”
“Girls day out!” Lisa snaps her fingers. “Count! Me! In!”
The three of you small chat for a bit, before you dive into your awaiting assignments. They’re there to help you. You reciprocate the action when they want advise.
The school bell rings.
You pack up, and you wave goodbye for now. But, you’ll see them again in just a few moments when you get to class.
Heading to your locker for the first time in months, you have to try the code twice. The third time’s the charm. You take the specimen in your locker between your index and your thumb. Finding the nearest trash can, you throw the moldy sandwich away. At least the smell hadn’t penetrated through the bag yet.
You’re just zipping up your backpack after ridding yourself of about a hundred pounds of unnecessary textbook weight when someone shouts at the end of the hall.
Petty squabbles between students, you’re usually able to ignore. However, as all the noise is headed in your direction, you hear your name in between cursed and yells. A catastrophic tornado blows your way. Your feet are firm to the ground in terror.
Roxie’s purple, and about to blow a blood vessel judging by the vein nearly popping out of her neck. Hot on her trail is petite Indie, who’s begging for Roxie to just listen to her.
“Hey, you!” Roxie jabs her finger in your face.
Indie tumbled over her own feet, “Roxie!”
You check over your shoulder in hopes that someone might be there. No one is there except a few onlookers she’s drawn in her tirade. Now, you’re thinking. Eddie couldn’t have spilt the beans this quickly. Could he?
“Oh, I’m coming for you, bitch,” she snarls.
You’re toast.
Roxie is larger than you in all retrospects, but she’s especially big in muscle. If she’s about to pummel you, then you’ll be knocked over and split in two like a pin and she’s the ball going a hundred miles an hour.
“Can’t we talk this out?” Indie asks through gasps of air.
You stare between them. Indie isn’t after you by the worried expression she holds. Still unsure exactly what Roxie’s prattling on about, you decide to wait before you interject.
“Is there something going on between you and Eddie?” Roxie demands.
See, you knew their relationship wasn’t casual! Still, you did nothing wrong. Yesterday, you didn’t even express to Eddie that you liked him in the first place. You wanted to drop the conversation, and he kept going. This is his fault. Why isn’t he about to get a fist to the face? Who’s to say he hasn’t already? Yikes.
Roxie sucks her tongue to her teeth.
“Uh-,” you’re still loading in the information, and you hesitate to answer right away. “N- no?”
“Is that a question?” Her hot breath hits your nose.
You bring your hands down to your sides because you can’t let her see you trembling like a leaf. If she smells fear, she’ll know she’s won. Her prey is hers for the taking.
You’re tired of this. “Eddie and I have nothing going on. We’re just- just friends.”
You have a hard time saying that, but not for the reasons that Roxie has in mind. You’re not even sure if Eddie wants to be your friend anymore.
“Okay,” she sticks her tongue into the flesh of her jaw, and then says. “How come last night he moaned your name instead of mine?”
Blood rushes to your ears. Your face is on fire, and you’re sure everyone can see so.
Onlookers jeer and whisper amongst themselves. Rumors are already beginning from mouth to mouth; and, hitting ear to ear.
You would also like to understand what she meant by “moaning your name.” Spare the details. Obviously, you knew what happened last night. You wipe the winner’s smirk off your face, before Roxie even notices.
“I don’t know,” you fold your arms across your chest. “Shouldn’t you ask him?”
Roxie squares her shoulders. She clenched her fists until her knuckles are white. Cursing a few more angry words your way, she’s a bull ready to charge. You might as well be wearing all red.
“What’s going on here?!”
Miss Brown sticks her nose into the hallway and notices the crowd of people. Before anyone can do anything rash, she pushes her way into the center of the chaos. With an ostentatious sort of sigh that suggests she’s better than all of you, she starts breaking up the fight.
“Off to class,” Miss Brown shoo’s them.
“Let’s go, Roxie,” Indie grits her teeth.
Roxie eyes you one more time. “Fine. I’ll be seeing you later.”
You gulp.
It’s time to play a new game around school: Hide from Roxie! Winners get the very rewarding prize of not getting their face beat in.
You dart from class to class all morning. A huge target sticks to your back with Roxie aiming for a bullseye. Meanwhile, Eddie is still no where to be found. He’s probably hiding under his sheets at home, full of shame when he mistook your name for hers.
That’s just fine by you. You still didn’t want to see him either. Or, maybe you did. First, to clear the air about you liking him. A little flimsy crush isn’t going to break a friendship, right? You’ll get over it in time. Secondly, you’re sure that him naming you is a big misunderstanding. He just got distracted or something.
After lunch was over, you planned to sneak through Mr Campbell’s empty classroom. He doesn’t have afternoon classes, and you can easily shoot through since there is a door on either side of the hallway.
“Over there!”
Roxie has the cheerleaders involved now. No doubt they want a piece of judge, jury and conviction too.
Colliding into something solid, you topple over onto the tile. You’re swept away in thought and you forget to watch where your going. Mr. Campbell has that skeleton on wheels that he’ll leave just about anywhere. But, you haven’t knocked over that stupid skeleton.
It’s Eddie.
“Oh, God,” you rub your backside.
Eddie gasps, “What are you doing?”
“What am I-,” you snap. “What the hell are you doing? Your girlfriend almost tackled me like linebacker!”
Eddie shushes you. “Do you want her to hear? She’s not my girlfriend. I told you it’s casual.”
“Casual?” You want to yell, but you also don’t want her to hear. The last thing you need is for Roxie to see you in the same room as Eddie. “Whatever you have is not casual.”
“I messed up, okay?” He rubs his temple. “Jesus!”
Your chin lifts at the familiar brrring of the school bell. Now, you’re skipping class. You’ll get another hour of detention no matter if you stay here or go to class.
“You’re hiding from her too?” You conclude.
Detention doesn’t matter to Eddie. He just wants to ensure you’re okay. Judging by the way you’re creeping through empty classrooms, you’re doing just about as good as he is.
"I'm not hiding," he jumps when someone's locker slams. "Okay, so maybe I am hiding."
"This is so humiliating," you cry.
Eddie apologizes, “I’m sorry-,”
“You’re sorry?”
You’re grateful that the light in the room is limited. Otherwise, you don’t know if you could have a conversation with him right now. Eddie has these eyes that you could simply drown in.
“It was an accident,” he claims. “You’re the one who said-,”
“I didn’t say anything,” you correct him. “You’re the one with the wild imagination.”
“Wild imagination?!”
“Maybe I do like Jeff, hm? Or- or maybe I’ve come to realize that Gareth is a great guy. Did you think of that?” You stand before him, while he scrunches down into a chair. “Eddie Munson you’re selfish - no, you’re self centered. All about Eddie- it’s Eddie’s world and we’re all just there like puppets on strings.”
“You done?”
“No!” You snap. “Yes.”
“How could you call me self-centered when you’ve been prancing around this place like the rest of the guys don’t exist? Everyone wants to know where you are all the time. Why would I know? Oh, because you’re supposed to be my best friend,” Eddie rubs his hands across his face. “God, when did things get so complicated?”
"When you started calling me one of the guys in middle school, and I just wanted whatever you wanted,” you admit out loud. “Why do you think I changed when Gareth mentioned Roxie? I thought that’s what you wanted.”
Eddie’s unreadable. Although dark, you can see his thoughts bubble and burst.
“It doesn’t matter,” you continue. “You don’t like me like that.”
“Who’s to say that?” Eddie’s voice comes out barely audible.
You shake your head. “Don’t pity me.”
Eddie kicks the stool from under him, “I’m not.”
“Eddie,” you pick at your nails. “What we have is a great friendship. I’m lucky that you’re in my life. I don’t want to risk messing that up. Are- are you okay with that? Are we okay?”
Eddie doesn’t want to leave the air so broken. While the words are spelled out in front of him, he can’t find a way to bring them out.
“We’re okay,” he says.
-> <-
Flicking a green bean on his plate with a fork, Eddie can’t be bothered to bring the food to his lips. Nothing passes his mouth. He watches the ice crystals on his steak defrost because he doesn’t want Uncle Wayne to worry that he’s messed up dinner, since this is the first one they’ve shared in a while. Wayne told his boss that he wanted to be home tonight for Eddie, and here he is.
“You’re not eating?” His uncle points out because Wayne has eaten half of his meal, and he worries that Eddie is appearing a bit gray and slender.
Eddie replies. “I ate a lot at school.”
“In the years that you’ve been under my roof, you haven’t stopped eating,” Wayne lowers his head to meet his nephew’s eye. “Try again.”
Eddie pushes the microwaved dinner aside. A low hum comes from the television, and he’s not even sure what’s on. Someone’s bobbing around like a baboon trying to make a woman smile. Yet another attempt from Wayne to make Eddie relive his childhood, he guesses.
“That girl your seeing isn’t pregnant is she?” Wayne presses when Eddie won’t talk. “Eddie Munson, I’ve told you to use a condom-,”
“No,” he cocks his head to rethink. “No, she’s not.”
Even if Roxie was pregnant, she’d get an abortion and make Eddie pay for it. Actually, he still owes her for the condoms.
Eddie wants to be done with women for a while. But, there is still this pinching on his ears that reminds him you’re still there. He’s actually wearing a pair of your studs that you forgot at his house one day. Since Eddie is prone to losing just about everything, he’s decided to wear them so they don’t get lost. No one even notices except for him. They hide behind his hair.
“Look,” Eddie wets his lips. “If I tell you, then you have to promise me you won’t do that weird ‘oooh’ thing you do. Got it?”
Wayne claps his hands together. Say no more. He’s solved the case! That little lady across the park has had her eye on him since the day Eddie moved in. Wayne really likes her. ‘Thinks she’s a great ball of sunshine that can keep Eddie under control. He’s been just waiting for Eddie to wake up and smell the coffee!
“Really?” Wayne excites.
Eddie exhales. “Don’t-,”
“Wait,” he lectures. “You’re not seeing both of them are you? Eddie Munson that is wrong, and I won’t tolerate that behavior. I taught you better.”
“No-,”
“Seriously, boy. Wear a condom. It’s not just for you, but her too you know?”
“Wayne-,”
“You can’t be spreading your butter on everyone’s toast.”
“Wayne!”
“I knew it,” he blabs on. “Ever since I caught you two brushing each other’s teeth. Oh, I saw this coming - I did!”
That incident happened once, and Wayne would never let Eddie live that down.
You smoke one joint.
After sitting in his room complaining of boredom, you tell Eddie you had never brushed someone else’s teeth before. He hadn’t either. You wanted to try. But, Eddie would only let you if the offer went both ways. Wayne burst in when you were scrubbing his tongue. You splattered toothpaste all over the mirror, while Eddie tried to keep you from squirming so he could scrub your teeth.
“You need to learn how to knock,” Eddie tries sailing with the conversation his old man is going on about.
Wayne challenges. “You know there’s no closed doors when you have girls over, Eddie.”
“Oh, my God.”
Reliving the memory, Eddie wants to make more with you. Cooking. You’ll cook. He’ll burn food. You’ll tell him he’s doing a wonderful job anyway because you’re too sweet to tell him to get out before he burns the house down. Eddie visions that you’ll teach him a better way to organize his clothes. You’ve already tried to show him how to fold, but Eddie only lasted a week doing your method before going back to shoving the clothes in whatever drawer is the least bit full. He’ll now admit that he only let you teach him because he wanted you close. He wants you close. Always.
It’s not just domestic stuff he sees. He wants to take you on a date. Many dates. He wants to take you out of Hawkins, even if it’s for just a day. He misses your laugh. Seeing you cry today broke him. Knowing that you’ve changed everything for him, and he didn’t notice. Because at the core of all the makeup and the hair, he guesses, that he just didn’t care. He loves all the extra, don’t get him wrong, but all he can see is you.
“What are you going to do, boy?” Wayne wonders.
Eddie replies in a question, “What if everything goes wrong? I- I can’t lose her, Wayne.”
“Son-,”
“What if I just turn out like him? Like my father?”
Eddie’s lip quivers, as he bites back the tears he’s been holding onto for years. Not a day goes by does he not miss his father, even if the years weren’t kind to him. His father is locked away somewhere in State, but he hasn’t visited. They’ll take one look at Eddie and they’ll try to lock him away too.
“That’s not you, Eddie,” Wayne opens his arms. “Come here.”
Eddie drops his head onto his uncle’s shoulder. Tears slide down his cheek and across his chin.
“Deep breaths,” he rubs his hand across Eddie’s back.
He doesn’t cry for long, and Wayne wipes his tears when he’s calmer. This isn’t a usual interaction between them, but neither of them care. Wayne takes away a stray eyelash from Eddie’s cheek.
“You like this girl?” Wayne says as a fact more than a question.
Eddie nods.
“You have to try,” he insists.
“Yeah, okay,” his nephew agrees.
Wayne and Eddie end their conversation there. Eddie eventually eats (after microwaving the food because he could have broken teeth on that steak), and the show that his uncle makes him watch isn’t half bad. Their night comes to a close when his uncle snores.
Mouth agape, head tipped over and his feet propped up, Wayne would be out for the night.
Eddie tucks his uncle’s toes beneath the blanket Wayne was hugging. Tip toeing his way into the kitchen, he puts both forks into the sink along with their drinking glasses. The TV dinners find home in the trash can. While Eddie left the television on to lull his uncle in his sleep, Eddie flicks off the living room and the kitchen lights. He sneaks off to his bedroom, the only bedroom in the trailer. Wayne gave up the space for Eddie to grow into.
Eddie finds that sleep won’t do.
You project onto his ceiling like a film about his life. There you are. Every new milestone. Eddie didn’t think about just how many times you were there for him. His birthdays come to mind, even the ones he didn’t want to be there for because he doesn’t always feel like he deserves to be celebrated. You’d sneak off to get him a beer when his uncle was distracted with all the other kids invited.
When you kept him from going outside, while Wayne drove up in his brand new van that was a gift for Eddie when he got his license. Wayne took on extra hours just for him. That might just have been the night his heart beat a little faster for you. Watching you perform songs in your living room in that ridiculous feather boa and sunglasses, Eddie’s drawn to laugh at the memory of you out of tune and off key. You didn’t care. The hair brush you swore was a microphone was just not working that night. You’re much better performer in the shower, you’d said.
Eddie sits up in bed, and he can see that your bedroom light is still on. Your curtains are drawn, but your silhouette dances about. Bouncing up and down will sometimes get rid of your last bit of energy, Eddie’s witnessed your routine first hand. Your wild, and Eddie finds this fascinating.
When your silhouette disappears, but the light remains, Eddie concludes that you’re reading a chapter book. You told Eddie to try reading sometime because that’s what helped you get to sleep. He bought his first book that very same day.
The Lord of the Rings was your suggestion. Not that he hadn’t found it first, but he wasn’t about to point it out. Eddie sees the book hidden under a lighter he used last night.
Smoking seemed obvious to him. He couldn’t sleep, so he would light up. With Wayne home, though, Eddie didn’t want the smell getting to him. He’s pretty sure Wayne knows he smokes by now, and he doesn’t care. Eddie isn’t a reckless smoker by any means, and he keeps to himself. If Wayne found out he was selling, that would be a different story.
Never the less, Eddie reads page after page of the same book he’s been fascinated by for weeks. He immerses himself into the books wishing he could be the hero, rather than the one who runs in the face of danger.
Eddie hears your front door open and close. This interests him and tips his head up. Tossing the book aside like he’s suddenly been hypnotized, he looks through his window.
You’re on the porch in thin pajamas and a robe. A lit cigarette slots between your fingers. You only smoke when you’re stressed. Pacing back and forth, Eddie understands that you’re talking to yourself. He just can’t make out the words.
This is creepy. Eddie shuts his window, and sinks back in bed. Leaving you alone - leaving you alone.
The words in his book blur into blobs of unrecognizable text. All he can see right now is you on that porch. You’re alone - and you’re probably cold. He has a blanket that he could offer. Maybe he could- no, he is leaving you alone.
Eddie wants to untangle the knot he has in his belly. He even tries to convince himself that he’s still hungry. But, he knows he won’t eat. You’re there. Even if you were caked in mud, you’d still be the most beautiful girl in the world to him. Actually, he has seen you caked in mud before. You were definitely hot then too.
Oh, God. What was he doing?
Pulling open his closet now, Eddie finds a jacket to slip on over his pajamas. He takes an extra blanket with him. It’s a bit torn up, but the blanket is clean. Wayne washed the blanket a couple of days ago, along with Eddie’s sheets which he claimed he could smell from across town. Eddie was not that dirty. It was the weed - but, er - don’t ask about the stains. He doesn’t know what they are or where they came from. Seriously, don’t ask.
Wayne is still snoring in the living room. He mutters in his sleep when Eddie opens the front door, and he doesn’t see Wayne stir once the door shuts.
His uncle stretches, and wakes up enough to take a leak in his bathroom. By the time he returns to the living room, he catches a glimpse from the window in the living room. His boy is with you on your porch making you smile and making you blush.
Wayne doesn’t need to spy. He’s seen this movie before when his brother made moves on his girl. It’d be a few more years until Eddie is born, but the picture is already there.
“Atta boy,” Wayne cheers to himself.
Eddie’s sitting with you, and sharing a cigarette. You’re not sleeping either. Dried black makeup you haven’t smudged off is stuck under your eyes. He wants to swipe it away, but he doesn’t know if he should.
“Is your mom in tonight?” Eddie asks.
You shake your head. “No, but my dad is such a deep sleeper. He’s nothing to worry about.”
Eddie worries about your dad catching him there with his only daughter, then your mom who likes to call you both “crazy kids.” Your dad is stern. Overprotective. He’s jokes about having a gun locked away somewhere, but Eddie still has no idea if he is joking. You won’t tell him because truthfully you don’t know.
“What’s got you up?” Eddie brings the blanket closer to you because he sees your shoulders dance.
You shake your head blowing out smoke to the left where Eddie isn’t.
Eddie takes a drag from the cigarette after he says, “I don’t think I’ve been all that honest with you.”
He reads your face.
“Not like that,” he can’t look at you, so he counts the floorboards of your porch. “I said we’re okay, but I don’t think we are.”
Your heart skips in your chest. “What do you mean?”
While Eddie might not be able to look at you, your eyes are all on him. In the moonlight, he’s like this shiny thing. You can’t put your thoughts into words, but he’s carved by the shine of the moon. He might hide his face with his hair, but when he hunches over you relax a bit.
You haven’t been able to put yourself in bed. Knowing that Eddie was there had wrecked your mind. You’re itching to be near him.
The whole day you thought about nothing, but him. How unsatisfied you are with your earlier conversation. You thought being the one to take charge in the conversation, and assert yourself, might make the blow easier. Truthfully, it hurt even worse.
You spent the evening sobbing in your room like a baby. Friends. You signed your name at the bottom of that contract. But, then, you thought about the day you’ll find a nice boy that will like you back. You’ll get married. You’ll get a house. Everything will be okay. But, as you thought about your life, your mind wondered about Eddie. What happens when he finds a girl? He’ll have a wife and he’ll have a house too.
You’ll be at that wedding. Sitting in a chair that’s not too close to the front, but also not all the way in the back. The band sits in front of you. They might not be able to pronounce the brand name, but their check cashes on their suits. All of your friends are his friends.
Eddie’s fiancé is faceless, but her gown is breathtaking. They’ll say ‘I do.’
You’ll cry along with them, but the tears you shed are ones you let out at a funeral. Are you just supposed to sit there and pretend like you don’t want to throw up?
Because that’s not you standing at the alter.
That’s some chick he’s met on the road while he tours with the band. Sure she’s great. But, the sight sickens you. Maybe that means your selfish, but you can’t do this. You can’t see Eddie with another woman. You refuse to see it because Eddie’s always been with you.
“I’m sorry?” You’ve spaced out while Eddie is speaking.
He begins to say, “please don’t make me repeat myself.”
Throwing the cigarette to the ground, you stamp out the flame. You wrap your hands around his neck, and you pull him forward. Eddie's lips meet yours in an awaited embrace. Longing and passionate. His hands burrow into your hair pulling you ever closer. The tender touch of his fingers fall to your waist to tell you he's not going anywhere.
You can't be sure which one of you pull away first. But, when your eyes open you breathe a sigh of relief. Eddie is still there, and he's about as hot in the face as you feel. You let out a breathy laugh, and he hides his grin behind his hair.
It doesn't take long for him to ask,
"Can I take you out sometime?"
And, of course, you say. "Yes!"
-> <-
tags: @hellfirenacht @queercodedcharacter @ogoc-19 @littlewinchester1 @stardustingold @ghost4love @spenciesprincess @animechick555 @foggyfooz @aactuaaltraash @loves0phelia @sofaritsalrightt @thisisktrying @somethingvicked @sebastiansstanswhore
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ellaeats · 1 year
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Does it get sweaty under the belly?
LMAO I’m gonna be real with you guys. When I started getting really fat it absolutely got super sweaty and stinky, sometimes the skin under my belly would be like raw just because I didn’t know how to properly take care of a true plus size body. Now I do. This ask made me wanna slide some advice to all my big girls and guys because hygiene with big bodies are never talked about.
1. Antibacterial soap. (You absolutely need to wash your body with this when you get into the 250+ category. Bacteria grows in dark sweaty crevices.I use an antibacterial to start off with, then use a nice good smelling soap after, then before I get out use the antibacterial once more on my private parts, underbelly and armpits.)
2. Exfoliate (you need a loofa, African net sponge, those scrubby gloves, something that’s gonna scrape off those dead skin cells)
3. Make sure you’re completely dry when you get out the shower. ( that means everything, I use a hand fan to dry every crevice. Water builds bacteria so if you put on your clothes without being completely dry, you can get that build up underneath your clothes.
4. Baby powder. (Sprinkle some baby powder between your folds in order to keep dry, stop skin from rubbing against each other, and maintain sweat build up and smell. It also helps chafing. This is the most important step.
5. Spray deodorant (just last longer and is easy to apply, only use under the armpit, deodorant can clog pores and leave nasty blemishes behind on your skin, especially if you’re plus size.
6. Get a slave boy to rub in the baby powder and to wash you in the shower.
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yawnderu · 7 months
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K-9 — Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader | Chapter III
Sick as a dog, and just as vicious.
1 2 3 4 5
You work magic with your hands
Or
The human body is able to withstand extreme damage.
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"Medic!" Price's voice boomed across base, heavy footsteps following right after. The door slammed open before you could even get up, Gaz and Simon carrying a bloodied Soap. They set him down on the medical bed and you got up, rushing to them and examining the damage.
It's incredible, really, how the human body can withstand extreme conditions and stay resilient, such as a gunshot that had blood leaking out of Johnny's head like a faucet.
"Out. With me, Simon." You bark out orders and the men obey, Price patting your shoulder twice, the look in his eyes saying much more than words. Fix him.
"Apply pressure on the wound." Simon nods his head, quickly discarding his skull gloves as his bare hands apply pressure on Johnny's chest to limit the blood loss. You felt a weak pulse earlier, yet the sound of the EKG machine as soon as you hook him up served as reassurance. You immediately put on your gloves, not bothering to hook him up to an IV to avoid wasting time. His heartbeat is weak, but he's still here.
Your hands get to work immediately as Simon begins to treat the wound on Johnny's chest, a much simpler injury than the bullet in his head. You bring the light closer to his head, able to make out the familiar glint of the bullet encrusted in his brain.
Twelve hours. That's how long it took to complete surgery on Johnny to remove the bullet in his head and stabilize him. He's a lucky motherfucker; the base of his brain and spinal cord being completely untouched, allowing him to be part of the 10% of people who have survived a headshot.
Your knees give out right after you make sure Johnny is all covered up, exhaustion and stress along with the disappearing adrenaline finally catching up to you. Strong arms wrap around your torso to prevent you from falling— Simon, who refused to leave your office, staying awake those twelve hours in case his help was needed.
"With you, lass." He reminds you, helping you stand up and guiding you to your chair, crouching down to get a better look at you.
"Need a cuppa?" He asked gently, the back of his hand making contact with your forehead to check for your temperature.
"Fucking brits..." You grumble, tired eyes looking down at him, the way his gaze softens and the corners of his mouth tilt up into a small smile, a deep laugh escaping out of his lips for a second.
"Some coffee?" You nod your head, hands going under your glasses to gently rub your eyes as you struggle to stay awake. He gets up, hand on your shoulder squeezing softly to make you look up at him.
"I'll go tell that lot Johnny made it, think you can stay awake until they're here?" His words had hints of teasing despite the concern in his eyes, only turning away once you nodded your head. You got up from the chair, walking over to the medical bed and looking at Johnny's unconscious body. His heart beat was stable, at the very least.
"I miss you, Johnny." Your hand reaches out to hold his, squeezing softly before you bring it to your lips and plant a soft kiss on his knuckles, slowly putting his hand back on his stomach. As annoying as he can be, he feels like a younger brother, someone you'd lay down your own life for with no hesitation, though that secretly goes for the rest of the team.
You take a step back when you hear footsteps approaching, pretending to fix the new IV injected to him.
"Doc." Price greets, walking over to you and looking down at Johhny. Bruised and bloody, but alive.
"Knew I made the right choice with you." His heavy hand pats your shoulder, managing to offer you a smile despite all the stress he was in, not knowing whether or not one of his boys was going to make it.
"I'm honored, Captain." He could hear the appreciation under the layer of sarcasm.
"I don't know when he's going to wake up, but there wasn't any damage on the frontal lobe or top of the brain, so probably not gonna have brain damage either... not that it'd make much of a difference." You drift off, eyebrows furrowing slightly as you think back on the twelve hours that just passed, the deep chuckle escaping the captain turning your attention back to him.
"Good. Go rest, Gaz and I will take turns watching over him." You simply nod, turning away to leave and patting his arm gently as you walk past. A small smirk sets on your lips when you feel the muscle, quickly leaving the office and going to your quarters. You barely manage to remove the bloodstained white coat before you collapse in bed, any thoughts about what happened and the coffee Simon was making for you completely forgotten as you finally drift off to sleep.
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league-of-sam · 3 months
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Don't Be Shy | Konig x Reader
Kӧnig x TF141 x AFAB!Reader
PART ONE
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Summary: Transferred against your will to a new task force to calm a troubled soldier, you felt way in over your head - especially when you came face to face with a 6'10" mountain of Austria. 18+ MINORS DNI! t.w // angst, mental health, language, violence, human trafficking, death, sexual themes/SMUT, military inaccuracies, language inaccuracies (google translate).
2 / 3 / 4 / 5
You'd been the new kid on the block, over and over again.
Late to training, late into the 141, and now, late into Task Force KorTac with a very special, and very specific mission.
A mission that was built for you.
A mission that required the utmost professionalism.
A mission that required somehow pulling a 6’10” brick shithouse out of his own head and into a team - but you didn’t know that, yet.
Oh, and fuck, did you protest it. Over and over and over again. It had taken you months to settle with the 141 boys, and now you were being shipped off, away from your family.
“You’re really good at that, uh, the empathy shit.” Price had said, placing a warming hand on your shoulder.
“I’m a soldier, Price. And you know how much I struggle around new people.” You spoke, the latter half of the sentence said in a hushed tone.
“Yes, but you’re good at, ya know, feeling." He replied, fingers lifted to place air quotes around the word, "You got Ghost to come out of his shell!”
At that moment, your lieutenant entered the room, making his way over at the mention of his callsign.
You rolled your eyes, “Okay, so send him! Lord knows he needs the practise.”
“Watch ya mouth, little one.” Ghost said, stepping next to you.
“Just because you’re a foot taller than me does not mean you get to bully me for it, Simon.”
Despite what people thought about the giant, skull-mask-wearing man, he was soft and caring; the relationship you had built together was that of siblings, and he had your back more than any ordinary brother would.
Ghost’s eyes were dark under his mask, but you knew he was smirking, “Not my fault you’re a short arse.”
“Yet I’m still a better sniper than you.”
“No, you bloody well aren’t-”
“Children! Please…” Price interrupted the sibling-like bickering; fingers pinched on the bridge of his nose. “If we could focus on the task at hand?”
Ghost poked your side, mumbling, “Yeah, (Y/L/N), focus on your task.”
“Go have Soap suck your dick some more, sounds like you need to relax.” You mumbled back.
Your retort had Ghost choking, the sharp intake of air he made as his head whipped to look at you causing him to cough relentlessly. Price shook his head, waving him off to sort himself out.
It wasn’t exactly a secret within the team that there was something a little less savoury going on with your lieutenant and Sergeant MacTavish, especially when the latter would constantly confide in you about his crush.
Especially, after what had happened with Hassan and the missiles.
But, thanks to your meddling, you had been able to get Ghost to open up, and it seemed like the two were much happier.
Not that you’d dare make a comment about it in front of anyone but Price and Ghost himself.
You valued your life, thank you very much.
And as much as Ghost loved you like a sister; he would absolutely kill you.
As Ghost walked away, you shot him the sweetest smile you could muster, resulting in him throwing you the finger.
“Look, you’re the only one I think can get through to him, kid. The task force needs you.” Price continued.
“I applied to be here, sir. I worked damn hard to make it onto the 141.”
He sat you down, taking your hands in his, “This isn’t permanent. I promise, we’ll be here waiting when ya get back, because I want to work with this guy. He’s bloody good, so I need you to make sure he can play well with others."
You sighed heavily, the weight of responsibility and leaving your family crushing your shoulders, "And you are my best sniper., Karma.”
Price had whispered that last part, for your ears only, a smirk across his bearded lips. You smiled widely, a giggle falling from your mouth.
It felt good to get that recognition from your superior.
He wasn’t wrong; the reason you made it onto the 141 in the first place was your incredible skill as a marksman…well, markswoman. You’d earned the call sign Karma from Soap, who watched you in a training drill he ran.
You’d been perched up high, completely hidden, and any enemy that your team missed in combat, you cleaned up, never missing a shot. Like the saying goes, if you can’t get ‘em, karma will.
It was also suitable for those who underestimated you. Every person you’d gone up against in hand-to-hand training doubted your abilities due to your smaller frame, but fuck, did you prove them wrong every time.
Broken noses here.
Fractured limbs there.
You were Karma, and no one messed with you.
“So, think you can do this for me?” Price said.
“Affirmative, sir.”
“That’s my girl.”
With that, you walked, albeit with a little sadness, back to your quarters, packing a duffle of your things. Price had said you’d only be away for a couple of months tops, depending on how the mission went.
At the car, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, and the rest of the 141 were there to say goodbye, all of them giving you a squeeze as they wrapped you in their arms.
“You be good, alright?” Ghost had whispered in your ear, “See you when ya come home.”
“It almost sounds like you’re gonna miss me, Lt.” You quipped, and he rolled his eyes.
“I’m sure you’d like to believe that.”
“He’ll miss ye, bonnie.” Soap cut in, lifting you off the ground, “As will I. Don’t forget me in the excitement of the big bad KorTac boys, will ya?”
“I could never, Soap. You’re my number one!”
With one final wave and various counts of love you’s, you were stuffed into the car with Price and Laswell, the two of them escorting you personally.
Your heart hung low as your team got smaller and smaller behind you, but you were honoured to have been sought out by another team.
KorTac.
Didn’t quite have the same ring to it as 141, but it’d do.
The journey was short from the training camp in London, as you were dropped off at Heathrow, where a private chopper awaited you. From there, you were shipped off to a covert facility in the mountains of Hungary.
The scenery was beautiful, but your nerves bubbled up inside you.
With a silent nudge from the pilot, you were shoved out of the chopper, greeted by several members of your new team.
“Sergeant (Y/L/N), yes?” the man said, a heavy Hungarian accent lacing his words.
“Uh, yeah, that’s me. Sergeant (Y/N) (Y/L/N),” You stuck your hand out, “But you can call me Karma, whatever suits.”
“Fender.” the man said, shaking your hand, “I run things here at KorTac. This is my second in command, Roze.”
A woman stepped forward from behind him, also taking your hand in hers, “We’re honoured to have you here, Karma. Heard a lot about you.”
“Well, I’m honoured that you guys wanted me.”
The pleasantries continued until you were being guided to their facilities, being allowed to drop off your bags before rushing to the tactical room, where the rest of the team was waiting for your arrival.
You were introduced swiftly, barely remembering anyone’s names before you were guided once again to another place, ending up in Fender’s office. He offered you a seat, sitting opposite at his desk.
“So, what exactly did Captain Price tell you of your purpose here?”
“Not a lot, really. He mentioned that I was needed because you have a soldier here that needs…help? And that there was a mission coming that required my particular skill.”
“Ahh, yes. That would be Kӧnig…” he sighed, pulling out a file and dropping it in front of you.
You opened the file, to find a picture of a man, a sniper hood that you recognised adorning his face. Scanning the information, you found that he was Austrian, joining the task force here through the KSK, basically being used as a front man for the teams on-ground.
“Kӧnig has…issues. He came here wanting to be a sniper, but, as you’ll see when you meet him, his physical attributes do not allow it. He didn’t take that well, but he excels as part of the contact team.”
“So, what exactly is the problem?”
Fender sighed, leaning forward in his chair, “He seems to have some problems with anxiety. I was informed that you used to suffer with such issues but were able to overcome them.”
You scoffed a little, “So, I’m here to be a glorified babysitter?”
You felt bad for this Kӧnig.
You couldn’t imagine wanting nothing more than to be a sniper and then have it taken away from you because of your physicality.
That would fucking suck.
“We just need someone to calm him, teach him control. A lot of the other team members are so scared of him they can barely stand being in the same room.”
“Arseholes…” you whispered under your breath, “That’s hardly fair, sir. By the looks of things, he is an essential member of this team.”
“That maybe so, but I can’t have my soldiers acting that way off the field. Unfortunately, if you cannot help him, he will no longer be welcome on any task force.”
You shook your head in disbelief.
How fucking unfair.
Before you could say anything, the office door opened. You stood to greet Roze but gasped slightly at the giant shadow behind her.
Stood in front of you, was a complete mountain of a man.
He had to duck down considerably to make it through the doorframe. Every single inch of him was huge. Ghost used to make you feel intimidated and tiny, but this…this was fucking ridiculous. Kӧnig had to have been at least 6’10”, and the size of his muscles would put both Ghost and Soap to shame.
Truly, this was a big, big man.
Oh, you thought, the sniper hood stayed on?
“Ah, Kӧnig, there you are. Thank you, Roze, you may go.”
“Sir.” She nodded, smiling to you before leaving the room and shutting it behind her.
“You wanted to see me, sir?” Kӧnig spoke, barely sparing you a glance as he addressed his superior. A thick accent tainted his English, but he was well-spoken.
Fender stood, moving around the desk to the two of you, “Yes. This is Karma, she’s the new addition to the team, and will be your new…partner, as such.”
“Uh, p-partner, sir?”
Fender nodded.
“Hi.” You spoke, a soft smile on your features as you stuck out your hand for him to shake. “I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N), but you can call me (Y/N/N), or Karma, whatever you like really.”
Your hands shook from nervousness as you rambled on.
New people always made you anxious, but this…this was intense.
Was it the accent?
The sheer size of him?
You couldn’t tell if you were intimidated, anxious, or frankly, maybe even a little turned on.
“Kӧnig.” He grunted but refused to meet your hand.
It hung in the air for an embarrassing amount of time, causing you to clear your throat as you lowered it, heat rising to your cheeks.
Yeah, this guy’s people skills were shite.
“Uh, right. Pleasure to meet you.” You finally said in an effort to shake off the awkwardness.
With that, Fender led the two of you back out, and towards the training centre. As you passed various soldiers, many of them looked to you, whispering.
By now, stares and such were just water off a duck’s back for you. Being part of the infamous 141 always brought a lot of unwanted attention. But that didn’t mean it didn’t make you uncomfortable, nonetheless.
Kӧnig, on the other hand, walked slightly behind you and Fender, his eyes not leaving the back of your body. He was used to the stares and whispers, the team never failing to make him feel like a freak of nature on the daily.
But he didn’t care at this moment.
He was fascinated by you.
The bright pink slivers of colour that peaked out from beneath the rest of your hair intrigued him; he was sure that went against regulation. You were also so sweet and tiny, the sniper rifle strapped to your back was almost as big as you were.
So, you were a sniper.
Why the fuck would Fender pair him with a sniper? Like he didn’t get mocked enough!
And now here you were, walking around with your head held high, like you fucking owned the place.
His own personal fucking babysitter.
The more he looked at you, the more his heart filled with rage, gloved fists balling at his sides.
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What the h*ll is "basic hygiene" anyway?
If you're like me, you've been struggling with hygiene for a long time. I'm neurodivergent, I have chronic fatigue and chronic pain, so yeah, it's been hard, my whole life.
Here's a few tips that helped me or some of my friends.
1. Redefine "basic hygiene"
No, really. Redefine it. Neurotypical and able-bodied people will tell you all can of things about what is "basic" hygiene.
The rule is: do what you can. That's it. The rest of the post will be tips to increase what you can do. But in the meantime, just do your best. You're fantastic the way you are.
2. Time
There's two thing here.
The first is: find the right time for you. It's not always easy, because we often have obligations, and we're supposed to be clean at those right moments. It's not easy. Sometimes it "helps" because it gives us that "boost" we needed to start getting clean, but most of the time it's just stressful. So instead find the moment that works best for you. I know there's moments in the day when it'll be easier for me to start tasks that I would struggle with at an other time, but I prioritise other things instead for a reason or another. Try washing yourself then, even if people will tell you it's strange to have a shower at three pm. Who cares.
The second is: divide to conquer. You don't have to wash ALL the parts of your body at once. You don't necessarily have the energy for it and it's okay. Also it can feel daunting to face that long list of steps. A body has a LOT of parts to wash and clean. Really, that's scary and exhausting. So the solution might be to do smaller things here and there. Do what you can when you can, that's okay. At least you've done something, that's great!
You are also allowed to take breaks in the middle. It can help if you are tired, or if it makes you anxious.
3. Wipes.
I personally hate washing with soap and water, whether it's a bath, shower or just at the sink. It takes time, it's a lot of steps, and it feels horrible. I do it when I can, but I don't enjoy it. The partial solution is wipes.
Baby wipes are great, they're soft, some smell good but faint, some has no odor. You can clean yourself quickly without rinsing. And they don't let that terrible feeling on your skin.
There's wipes made for your private parts. Which is an important part to clean. Also wet toilet paper is good. (For private parts wipes, buy the organic ones, you don't want anything too harsh there)
Make-up removal wipes are not just to remove make-up. They do clean you face.
Don't use antibacterial wipes though. At least not regularly. They are too harsh for your skin, you'll just damage it. Also too much antibacterial stuffs just make bacterias more resistant.
Bonus point: wipes can easily be carried in a bag. Handy.
4. Charts and lists and apps.
Whether you forget to do it or it you have done it already, or you can't get motivated, or you can't manage to start washing, or there's so many steps you get overwhelmed, or you start but can't remember what to do next, etc., those tips might help.
There's apps like Habitica (it's the most well known but there's others) that help you building habits and remembering to do stuffs and making it fun (help with rewards). It's about general tasks but can be applied to washing. A friend also told me there's a pokemon app to brush your teeth but I haven't tried it.
If you get overwhelmed by the steps and get lost in the middle, making a list of those steps, laminating and putting it in the bathroom near the sink or in the shower can help you keeping tracks. You can even put a dry erase marker near the list to check what have already be done.
5. The "bath buddy"
If you live with someone, you can ask their help.
I'm not saying they have to wash you. Or maybe I am? A friend takes his showers with his boyfriend to help getting motivated.
It can just be your platonic roommate behind the door talking to you, telling you funny stories.
Having company can help start the task and make it more enjoyable which help in itself but also make it less daunting the next times. Having a bath buddy also helps if you get lost in the middle of a task, they can tell you what the next step is. They can also keep you on tracks and in the present (I know I tend to dissociate a lot in the bathroom). And they keep your mind off the bad stuffs (body dysphoria for example, or sensory discomfort)
6. You're never too old for "kids' stuffs"
Because you're never to old for fun stuffs.
No, really, there's no reason why you should deprive yourself of something that would make washing more fun.
Wash your teeth with bubblegum flavored toothpaste.
Play with bathtoys. Buy those little plastic boats and those little squirting animals. (Seriously, the fact that the only fun thing for bath for adult is bubbles is a crime)
The word here is "fun". Make the bathroom fun. Buy a shower curtain with cute elephants playing with water. Put adhesive ducks on the tiles. Make that darn room a place you want to be in, not just to distract you from the bad stuff but to enjoy your life.
7. Teeth. Oh no, the teeth.
First thing: as I said, you don't have to use that "adult toothpaste". The menthol contained in it can be sensory hell. You can use kid toothpaste, it cleans just as well. If you can't use any toothpaste try brushing without it with just water. You can also try toothpaste tablets (you chew on them and then brush). You can try mouthwash. You can try oil-pulling. The point here is to remove some bacteria from your mouth.
About brushing. There's different hardness in toothbrushes. If you're using hard, try medium. If you're using medium, try soft. If you're using soft, try baby toothbrush. If no toothbrush works for you, try a wet cloth, or your finger. Try using toothpicks to remove the remains of food and then use mouthwash.
If the storebought mouthwash doesn't do with you, make it yourself. There's recipes online with essential oils (optional, but maybe there's one you might like), baking soda and water. (I don't recommend using lemon juice, it might damage your enamel.)
My friend just told me I should mention dental floss. I personally hate it, but it might be useful to some of you. It's probably more effective than toothpicks. They also comes mounted on these little plastic sticks if you struggle with the thread alone.
8. Chair
No, really, you have the right to sit down during washing. Buy a shower chair. Put a bench on your bathtub instead of struggling to stand up. Put a chair in front of the sink to sit when you brush your teeth.
You don't have to be physically disabled to use a chair to wash. And if you're disabled there's still no shame. Standing up can be boring, it can be painful, it can be tiring. So sit. You are allowed.
And if you prefer standing, do. You can pace. You can dance. You can do gymnastics. (Just be careful if you're brushing your teeth, okay. Or if you're in the shower. Don't hurt yourself.)
9. Music
If you don't have a buddy to talk to you, music or even podcasts, anything to listen to, can be a nice way to help. They makes the experience more enjoyable. They keeps your head away from the bad sensory experience or the awareness of your own body.
I also find using the same playlist useful to keep track of the time I've been spending in the shower. I even time the steps on the tracklist, I know I washed that part of my body for long enough if that song is over, I need to do the next step.
Also, for me me music is part of the ritual. It helps me to get in the right mind, it motivates me, it makes the routine.
10. Multi-purpose products.
I've seen all those beauty posts about "layering". It's nice if you have the energy and the time, but no, it's not for me.
I hate moisturising creams. I really do. They smells funny, they feels gross and sticky, and it takes forever to apply. It's an unnecessary step for me. But I have dry skin (at least on my body). The easy solution is to use surgras soap or surgras shower gel. (Not just the "moisturising" soap, that won't hydrate as well.)
I don't just remove the unpleasant experience of moisturiser, I remove a step. I save energy.
Also, multi-purpose products help with organisation, there's less things to think about. There's less risk of taking the wrong bottle because you're too headfogged. Less chance of chaos in the bathroom.
I personally can't do that for everything. I'd like to have one soap for everything, but my body skin and my face skin and my private parts and my hair all need different stuffs. But I do try to keep things to a minimum, because the number of products can be quickly overwhelming. So try to balance your sensory needs with your organisation problem.
(Also, if like me you hate the feeling of moisturiser, aloe vera gel is great. It is a bit sticky, but in a different way than cream. I personally prefer that one. There's also the option of oil, there's different kinds for different skin types, even for oily skin.)
11. Japaneses know best: the bidet.
This one might sounds strange for some folx. Where I live, bidets used to be extremely common but they are disappearing. We used to have a bidet next to the toilets in our homes. Japanese toilets have a built-in bidet but they are expensive. There is a cheaper (but still not cheap) alternative. You can buy a bidet toilet seat attachment to put on your own toilets.
Why am I telling you about bidet? Because when you struggle to wash regularly, bidets are incredibly useful.
Toilet paper is highly unhygienic. Wet toilet paper is a bit better. Bidets, that spray a jet of water on your privates, clean so much better.
And they are easy and quick to use. You just press a button and you are clean.
If you have a vagina, it's even more important, because it lowers significantly the risks of getting UTI and the likes.
If you can afford it, I recommend it.
12. The hat, or "well, f*ck it"
You can fail to wash in time for whatever obligation you have. That's okay.
Just use the card "camouflage".
Greasy hair? If they are long, brush them and tie them tightly, and put on a fashionable hat. Or you favorite, silly, hat. Or just a random hat that your aunt gave you (you know the one, you wondered for three weeks if you smiled enough when you received the gift because you didn't want to offend her). Scarfs are nice too.
Other idea to hide greasy hair? A wig. They are higher maintenance, but they are good to have for occasions where you have to look a bit better or if you can't wear a hat for whatever reason.
About odors... Well you know the trick of deodorants and perfume. Not what I recommend, at least not alone. For once not everyone can stand their smell. Also, they aren't that great to succeed at masking odors. If you can, use wipes to clean your armpits (also the underbreasts if you have them) and the neck and chest area. It might not remove all the odors but it'll help and with some deodorant if you can stand it, you should be good.
About deodorant: you can use a dollop of moisturiser (yes, I know I said I hate them, but listen), it will help to stop the formation of odors but the fragrance is usually mild or absent. It's also less harsh than the usual deodorant. You only need a small amount for it to work. You just need to clean before (wipes should be enough)
13. Don't stew in your dirty clothes.
Try to change your clothes often even if you don't wash. Especially your underwears.
I know it might sound counterintuitive to wear clean clothes when your skin is dirty, but staying in old clothes is like wearing a petri dish. By keeping the same clothes on you, you also keep the bacterias that live on it and your body.
It's especially bad in some areas, like your private parts, your feet and your armpits.
If you live alone, or if you live with someone who don't care, don't put clothes on at all. You'll just stew in your bacterial crock pot otherwise.
Staying naked also has the upside of reducing the amount of laundry you have to do.
14. Use your strengths.
Sometimes it's as simple as using your other hand because your dominant one is achy.
Sometimes it's listening to a podcast about your special interest.
You're an artist? Put a whiteboard in the shower. Or, I don't know, draw your body, laminate the drawing, and color the parts you have already washed with a dry erase marker.
Your thing is to make lists of animals of Paraguay? Recite them alphabetically and make a song with them while you brush your teeth and wash your face and clip you nails.
Dancers here? Each movement you make is part of a choreography.
15. Aftercare.
Hygiene is immensely stressful and energy consuming. You don't just deserve a reward, you need aftercare.
It's okay to take a nap. It's okay to need to engage with your special interest. It's okay to need a hug. It's okay to want to be alone. It's okay to feel bad too. Have a cry. Be moody. Don't be ashamed of what you feel. Of course it's better if you manage to avoid these emotions. But it's okay if you have them.
And give yourself a little treat. Have a cup of your favorite tea. Put a shiny sticker in your "things I've done good today" diary. Cuddle with your pet. Read the Swedish dictionary.
Drink a glass of water and eat something.
Also, if you have chronic pain, like I do, take your meds. (My joints are always a bit achy after standing too long, or my shoulder are stiff after washing my hair)
Write an essay about why keeping up with your hygiene is a pain.
Do what you want and do what you need.
16. Shame has no place in the bathroom.
If you've read my previous post, you know what I mean.
I've said it in this post, it's okay to struggle, to not be perfect, or as perfect as neurotypicals and able-bodied people say we should be. Their criterias are bullcrap.
Shame won't help you to keep up to these unachievable standards. They'll just undermine you.
Also, it's okay if some of what I've said here seems unachievable also. I shared what helps me and some of my friends, but your needs might be different and that's totally okay. Maybe someone will make a post with tips that'll help more? I hope so.
Anyway, you do what you can and you congratulate yourself for it. Every step is an achievement worth of praise.
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irisintheafterglow · 10 months
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Polish Up Real Nice! (bnha boys x you)
summary: hcs about taking care of yourself and taking care of the boys (with bakugo, shoto, izuku, kirishima, and denki)
cw/tags: swearing cuz bakugo is here, sickeningly cheesy fluff, the tiniest little bit of angst, pet names (love, babe, baby, sweetheart, lovey)
note: this is your reminder to take good fucking care of yourself because you deserve to feel loved !!!
likes, reblogs, and feedback is always appreciated <3
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Bakugo Katsuki
he has a longer skincare routine than you
does not matter if your routine is 2 steps or 10
he absolutely has a more complex regimen
will hide your body wash/shampoo to force you to use his instead
he likes it when you smell like him because he doesn't know how to voice his fuckin emotions any other way
it's ok !!! we love him anyway !!!
will automatically assume you're using his stuff if he starts running out
"babe, do you know what the fuck happened to my serums?"
"no, love, i'm sorry"
"you're not using them behind my back, are you?"
"i can't read half of the instructions on that tiny-ass bottle."
"it's self-explanatory-"
"it's also $100 for literally 2 milliliters, kats."
"that's a no, then."
it was denki lmao he was over at your house trying to figure out which bottle was soap
also has a haircare routine but not as strict as skincare
he'll just put leave-in conditioner if he wants it to look extra fluffy
MELTS when you massage oil into his scalp
he would rather die than wear one of those cutesy face masks
but he's over here putting fucking cucumbers on his eyes
you have a photo of him with a clay mask on and cucumbers over his eyes that he doesn't know you took
immediately sent it to his friends and now every single contact photo is of that picture
his love language is most definitely not words of affirmation but i think quality time is a strong contender
so when you're both getting ready in the morning he'll wordlessly hand you bottles of products without you asking because he's memorized your habits too <3
Todoroki Shoto
has like????? no skincare routine??????
man is just effortlessly pretty
for a long time he'd just use whatever momo or his mom recommended to him
when he started dating you and you asked about his skincare routine, he was the definition of confused
he was like
"i wash it??"
"no, but like with what product, sweetheart?"
"soap??"
despite not having much of a routine for himself, he will buy you WHATEVER you want
does not matter if the product costs more than the fucking moon
he'll have at least two bottles of it in your house at all times so you never run out
whenever he visits the store or has an assistant out shopping for him, he'll ask if you need anything (applies to basically everything but especially selfcare items)
when you do a facemask with him your favorite part is tying back his hair and giving him a tiny little sprout on the top of his head
also melts when you massage hair oil into his scalp
but he likes to give you massages more
could be with lotion or body wash, doesn't matter
will heat and/or cool his body depending on what you need
he likes running his hands over your skin until you're on the verge of falling asleep
and then he'll just lie down next to you and press his body against yours
Midoriya Izuku
doesn't really know much about skincare but is very eager to learn!!
adores doing facemasks with you
will pick up silly little animal masks from the store while he's on patrol
"look, it's a penguin."
"zuku, my love, where did you get these?"
"on patrol today."
"you're supposed to be stopping villains, babe."
"to be fair, i did kick the hell out of some thieves before buying them."
"ah, so you rewarded yourself."
"by being able to spend time with you, yes."
when he comes home late from a mission or from patrol and he's too tired to take care of his curls, you do it for him
just taking care of him in general when his body is physically unable to do it
which is quite often because you know, he's fucking deku
you'll lead him to the bath and make sure the water is warm beforehand
after he's settled and you clean any pressing wounds, you start working on his hair
he almost falls asleep right there, with your fingers gently rubbing product into his curls
you have to gently wake him to remind him to rinse
will sleepily watch you put on lip balm and then ask to try it
when you hand it out to him, he shakes his head
you smile and he kisses it off your lips
"that's pretty good. keep wearing it, please."
Kirishima Eijiro
probably uses a simple face wash and moisturizer
sometimes uses toner if you remind him but he doesn't really need it since his skin doesn't get super oily
he has a hand care routine
does that even exist??
it does now !
one of your nightly routines with him is rubbing lotion into his palms
because of his quirk, they can get really, really rough and dry
his skin in general gets beat up the most
he tries to remember to put lotion on but he's so busy that he forgets often
he also likes it better when you're sitting across from him and dotingly running your thumb along his palms
despite having a lot of callouses, it's one of the more sensitive spots on his body
"what is it, eiji?"
"that tickles."
he also asks you if you can help him take care of his nails, too
they tend to get roughed up during battles and he also sometimes picks at his cuticles absentmindedly
you help him clean up the nailbeds and scrub dirt from under the fingernails
he watches you like you painted the stars in the sky
when he comes out of the shower and his hair is down, he'll shake his head like a dog if you're in close proximity
effectively hitting you with water like a lawn sprinkler
the absolute KING of physical affection self-care
if you've had a hard day sometimes the one thing you need is just for him to lay his entire body weight on you
"can i ask a favor, babe?"
"anything, lovey."
"work was shit today, could you-"
he's already throwing himself at you and burying you both into the couch cushions
Kaminari Denki
definitely used hand soap to wash his face before dating you
instead of hiding your body wash to make you smell like him, he likes to use your products instead to make him smell like you
because of the videos you send him, most of his social media feed is influencers doing product reviews
he'll send you those product reviews and ask if it's legit or not
if you say it's legit, he'll buy it for you even if you didn't ask for it
"the fuck is this?"
"looks like some crystal roller thing, i don't know."
"baby, you're the one that bought it."
"to be fair, i black out every time i press 'proceed to cart,' so i don't remember doing it."
LOVES taking pictures and videos while you're doing self-care together
he's a sucker for the domestic life what can i say
will play music while you're trying to do your routine and take videos of him just spinning you around your bathroom
his skin also tends to dry out because of his quirk and sometimes he just needs a nice, long soak
will adamantly try to convince you to join him
not in a sexual way but in a matter of he has a small water gun hiding below the surface of the bubbles
instead of doing deep pressure therapy for you, sometimes he needs it from you
it gets hard for him, being a conduit of such a volatile quirk, and he needs you to remind him that his body isn't just a weapon
therefore he likes to just walk up behind you and ask to put his arms around you or just hold you
because he needs it
and deep down?
you need it too
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if you think this was self indulgent then you are absolutely correct;
if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)
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uriekukistan · 4 months
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tokyo ghoul characters and their skincare routines
kaneki doesn't have an extravagant routine, but he still takes care of his skin. probably just a basic 3-step routine with soap, moisturizer, and spf. i feel like he kinda has dry skin in the winter, so he probably also keeps chapstick and a little tube of hand lotion in his backpack or pockets.
haise on the other hand has more skincare products than he can count and the quinx squad is tired of how much space it takes up in the bathroom. definitely has one of those fluffy hairbands. he's a double cleanse, toner, at least 3 serums, eye cream, moisturizer, and sunscreen guy. he also exfoliates 2-3 times a week and does a mask every night.
ayato might wash his face with hand soap on a good day. his skin is annoyingly clear.
urie has that patrick bateman skincare routine. face ice pack for morning puffiness, cleanser, exfoliate, a peel-off mask, alcohol-free aftershave, moisturizer, eye cream, and spf. he has the second most extra skincare routine of the quinx squad.
juuzou doesn't want the stitches on his face to get infected, so he takes a good amount of time to wash his face every day. he doesn't really use anything else because he doesn't want it to mess with his stitches. yes, that includes moisturizer and spf.
akira is another skincare diva like haise. actually, she probably put him on to a bunch of his favorite products. she has a pretty regimented routine that she follows to a T. every product she uses is probably really expensive too. she likes to pamper herself.
touka has a pretty average skincare routine. a bit more than kaneki's routine, but not a skincare diva. she does cleanser (one wash in the morning, double cleanse at night), maybe one serum and/or spot treatment for breakouts (she is the most annoyed by ayato's skincare routine because she breaks out easily), moisturizer, and spf. sometimes if yoriko comes over on the weekend, they do masks together.
eto either has a very high maintenance skincare routine or doesn't do anything at all. it depends on the day. on the days she does do skincare, she goes over the top to balance all the nights she falls asleep while writing and does nothing. prone to buying new expensive products to try and not using them.
tsukiyama is the biggest skincare diva on this list. also has a 10+ step skincare routine. not a single product in his collection is less than $100. he gets those gold face masks that models get. and has a facial at least once a month. probably spends at least an hour applying all his products in the most careful way possible. nothing but the best for tsukiyama shuu
hinami has a skincare routine similar to touka's (probably learned it from her when they lived together). her criteria for products is if the packaging is cute. she probably makes ayato do pore cleansing masks with, she is appalled by his twice a month hand soap routine.
saiko buys any products that have animals or characters on the packaging, especially any sanrio x (insert skincare brand) products. she gets a bit lazy with it though, and she's prone just using face wipes so she doesn't have to stop watching her anime or playing her game
mutsuki is a skincare minimalist. soap, moisturizer, and spf works fine for him. doesn't see the point in all of haise's expensive serums. another dry skin boy, he probably also carries around lotion in the winter because his hands get really dry.
shirazu washes his face with shampoo in the shower. yes, shampoo.
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handweavers · 2 months
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my mother has asked me to ask “that weaver friend of yours” lol — do you have experience dyeing linen? what does the process look like for natural vs synthetic dyes?
happy to be that weaver friend of yours 🥰❤️ dyeing linen is basically the same as dyeing cotton or any other cellulose fiber, so any synthetic dye that works for cotton will also work for linen. a professional grade fiber reactive dye like procion mx or dharma's procion (here) dyes cellulose fiber without heat, and the process is quick and painless. it just involves a large bucket, water, the dye powder and the cloth you wish to dye. i have little experience with rit dye so i'm not sure if you'd need heat for that, but procion dye is higher quality, comes in a lot more colours than rit, and a 2oz container is like $2 usd and goes a long way
the natural dye process for linen takes a lot longer than the procion dye process and requires several steps. cellulose fibers really don't like to take dyes so you basically have to do a bunch of alchemy to convince it to do what you want (compared to protein fibers like wool and silk which love dyes and only need some gentle nudges)
naturally dyeing linen depends on the dye you'd wish to use, but the process is essentially: scouring, mordanting, and dyeing. it's really important that you scour linen especially because it contains a lot of pectins that prevent dye from penetrating the fiber, so a harsh scouring is best (ie. washing it with hot water and ph neutral soap, even to the point of boiling the cloth. linen can take a lot of heat and is better for it, cotton is more sensitive) you'll probably have to do this before dyeing it with the synthetic dye too for best results
most natural dyes require that you mordant the cloth before dyeing. some dyes don't require a mordant (indigo is the big one, but if you're working with onion skins or other materials that contain tannins this is also true. however mordanting the cloth before dyeing with tannins or even mordanting with tannins is still recommended for better colour performance long-term unless you're working with indigo in which case using a mordant can actually cause problems) but if you're unsure, assume that you need to apply a mordant. you essentially have to simmer the cloth in a hot pot with either a material that contains tannins (tannic acid), a natural bio-accumulator of aluminum (symplocos), or use a metal salt (alum acetate is best for cellulose, but iron and copper salts can also be used. the metal salts route requires more safety precautions esp if you use copper salt, you can't dump that down the drain) your choice of mordant impacts the final colour with different mordants shifting the chemical reaction that happens in the cloth when you dye it
with cotton and linen, after you use the mordant you need to use either a chalk or wheat bran bath to remove excess mordant from the cloth, esp if you use alum acetate, otherwise it can leave a whitish cast over the cloth and also impede dyeing lol. wheat bran baths tend to cause a warmer tone to the final dyed cloth, chalk baths cause a cooler tone. i only use wheat bran baths bc i prefer the warmth and i get the bran cheaply at my local punjabi grocer
only then can you dye the cloth, again unless you're working with a dye like coffee or tea or onion skins OR indigo. linen really doesn't like to take natural dyes unless you do all the above steps, it's stubborn. the dye process itself depends on what dye you use and you can do stuff like solar dyeing if you don't want to simmer it in a pot on a stove. if you plan to go the natural dye route lmk and i can send you some scans of a book i have that contains precise instructions for preparing linen for dyeing
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plushieanimals · 2 years
Note
hello!! i checked your faq and couldn't find this question, but you seem like the person who could answer it. when you acquire pre-loved or vintage plushies, how do you disinfect/wash them? especially beanie babies? like beyond spot cleaning
This turned into my masterpost of how to clean plushies! I also have a tag for plush care where i’ve answered asks about damaged fur, and brush recommendations + more!
How to wash and clean stuffed animals:
🧸 1. Prep! 🧸
I vacuum/lint roll the plush to get any stray hairs/dust/debris etc. I have a soft bristle brush attachment for my vacuum that i bought off amazon that i use exclusively for stuffed animals
I always hand wash my plushies when possible, but i’ve included a section on both spot cleaning for less dirty plush and machine washing under the wash section!
NOTE: if your plushie has a voice box or joints or anything inside that is incompatible with water then don’t submerge it!!
🧼 2. Soap! 🧼
I use Woolite brand soap because it’s gentle and safe for synthetics. You can also use dawn dish soap at even more diluted ratio. I dilute the detergent with water in about a 1:6 soap:water ratio in a small container (i usually use the detergent cap) Be aware that the more concentrated your soap is exponentially increases the amount of time it will take to rinse it out!
A good rule of thumb for your soap:water ratio is you want the solution you are using to be just a little slippery when rubbed between your fingers.
i use woolite but any gentle detergent safe for synthetics will work. Stuffed animal fur and stuffing is generally made of plastic! NO FABRIC SOFTENER! And no shampoo, conditioner, or soap made for human skin! The moisturizers used in these products will never “absorb” into the plastic fibers! These products will all leave a residue!
You can use very diluted cheap conditioner to detangle a plush but you will need to wash out the conditioner with a a detergent afterwards.
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🫧 3. Wash! 🫧
Hand washing: I soak the plush under COLD running water first, and then with my hands i apply and lather the soap in to the fur/fabric and make sure i thouroughly saturate it with the soapy water.
For plush that can’t be bathed/aren’t super dirty/only need a spot clean I use a damp microfiber rag dipped in a mixture of lukewarm water + a tiny (like a drop!) of soap (woolite or dawn) and rub them down all over with it. Then I go over them with a rag damp with clean, soapless water until all the soap is gone. If your plush has medium or long fur you still will want to brush it out to make sure the fur dries soft and not clumped up! Check my section on drying/detailing below.
For machine washing put them in a pillow case to protect the eyes, and put some pillows/ blankets/ towels in the machine with the plush to pad it. use gentle detergent and wash it on “delicates” (or your machines gentlest cycle) with COLD water! Top loading machines do best for this and you’ll want to arrange them sitting up with their backs to the wall of the machine if possible. For front loading machines just throw a bunch of extra pillows/blankets to pad it. skip to step 5 if you end up using a washing machine. I find this method works very well for larger, sturdier plush like build a bears. NEVER PUT PLUSH IN THE DRYER!!!
🚿 4. Rinse! 🚿
Use cold running water! Make sure no soap remains. I smell the plushies periodically to be extra certain i’ve gotten the soap out. You can gently squeeze the plushie depending on the stuffing type. Some plush may need to be washed twice or three times depending on the filth-level, or rinsed multiple times depending on the soap concentration.
Beanie babies and some other plush can be squeezed because of their beans, but plush made out of purely soft stuffing can have their stuffing deformed if you squeeze them too much. Some brands like douglas have stiffer plush with beans and stuffing and they actually can be squeezed too. (DO NOT “WRING OUT” ANY PLUSH!!)
🧽 5. Pre-dry! 🧽
after the soap is 100% out and you are happy with the cleanliness of the plushie, you have two options to pre-dry them:
My favorite way is to put the plush in my washing machine and run it on “spin” cycle only, which is very effective at getting excess water out. In my experience the plush barely moves in my top loading machine, but you can always put the plush in a clean pillow case or put a bunch of clean towels in with it to pad/stabilize the plush in a side loader or if the plush is fragile
If you can’t use your washing machine for any reason, then try your best to get as much water out without damaging the plush. Consider wrapping it in a towel and making a sling with a second towel and spinning it around you, lol. It will be okay if you can’t do any of these things, though! You can also just use a towel and press it on your plush to try and soak up as much water.
Only you know how durable your plush is. The more well made it is (think big brands like douglas, jellycat, wild republic, aurora VS an antique) the more your plush can take without risking damaging the seams/parts. PLEASE don’t “WRING OUT” your plushies as this can deform them!
I NEVER put my plush in the dryer, it can melt the fur fibers and cause matting/damage!! Some people use the “air dry/no heat” but i don’t like to take risks
🧺 6. Dry! 🧺
⭐️ This is the most important part, you must set your plush up to air dry thouroughly!! I prefer to use a fan pointed at the plush. but if you don’t have access to any kind of fan then a hair dryer set on cool could work, and plain air drying works too, it just takes longer.
For plushies with medium/long fur (basically anything besides minky fabric) I brush the fur out with a soft bristle brush once or twice while it’s drying to make sure the fur dries fluffy and soft. I use a build a pear paw brush. You can also use a plastic slicker brush and brush backwards with the direction of the fur to avoid pulling the fur fibers out. Don’t use a brush/comb that’s been used on humans or pets without super disinfecting it first, as the skin oils/dirt can damage your plushies fur!
For beanie babies or any plush with beans you must make sure the beans dry completely, they take way longer than the stuffing!
You need to rotate the plush every few hours or so to make sure it’s drying throughly. Make sure the bottom of the plush gets just as much exposed drying time as the rest of the plush, as gravity will pull any water downwards.
Try not to dry it in a humid room, like a bathroom! There is a risk of mold if a plush doesn’t dry completely before being packed up/sealed up.
I also wouldn’t risk drying your plush outside due to sun bleaching and possibly debris from wind/trees landing on it. You can dry it in a window that gets sunlight still as long as you don’t leave it there for weeks on end. Sun bleaching takes quite a while so the risk is very small.
✨ 7. Detail! ✨
(optional) after the plush is completely dry i go back with the brushes and detangle/fluff up the plush! This is almost necessary for any long/medium furred plush to keep the fur soft and detangled. I use the soft bristle brush for all, and plastic slicker brush for long fur. You can get a small plastic slicker brush for kittens/small dogs at walmart for like $3. Just make sure to be gentle with any combs/slicker brushes to avoid damaging the plush/ripping out the fur. ^_^
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This was super long! I have hand washed like 25 plushies of all different sizes at this point and this is what works for me. I have a lot of thrifted plush and they dont always come in great shape. you can reply to this post or send me a message if you have any questions!
extra tip from reblogs:
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hugmeimtouchdeprived · 3 months
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Ghost!Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x fem!reader - Chapter 1
Here's the first chapter to my ghost!Johnny fic (still trying to come up with a proper title...)
Again, English isn't my first language and this is my first fic, but I'm learning :)
Original drabble | Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2
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Your life isn’t what you’d consider spectacular. You have your routine that you follow, every day almost exactly the same and blending into each other.
At least you got a new job recently, at a small local bookstore. Your commute to work just about tripled, but the work itself is more enjoyable than your last job. And taking the train isn’t too bad, even when it’s full to the brim in the evenings when everyone is rushing to get home.
The bookstore itself is lovely. You frequented it before you even started working there, so when you noticed they were looking for new employees you didn’t hesitate to apply. And since the staff at least somewhat knew you already, you were welcomed on board just as quickly. Elphaba, the senior cat that lives in the store, didn’t seem to care one way or another. She doesn’t seem to care about much, other than the armchair in the corner she claimed as hers and the daily treats she gets from staff and customers.
The work is monotonous. And to your surprise, you kind of like that. Of course, you knew what to expect before starting there, working at a bookstore isn’t known to be the most thrilling job. It has that certain structure that you like oh so much. Stock the shelves and keep them organized, order new stock and unload it, keep up with paperwork. With customer service, majority of the time it’s like a script you follow in your head. Easy peasy. No surprises.
The commute to work is fine, although not your favourite. The underground train makes things a lot easier, and at least you can keep your current apartment instead of having to find one closer to the store. Dealing with the hassle that is moving almost across the city is definitely not something you’d want to deal with right now.
Your free time is taking it easy, most of the time. Doing chores, reading, maybe painting on occasion, going for coffee, and gossiping with friends, going on small trips across the country when you can to see old friends from school. Just keeping yourself busy with something, even the little things.
But it’s all so mundane. You like mundane, you tell yourself. There are no sudden, unpleasant surprises, nothing to throw off your entire day. You always have a plan, always prepared for anything.
Until it’s not. Dull and mundane, that is.
It’s just a shadow in the corner of your eye at first, just a trick of the light. That’s what you tell yourself, even when it occasionally moves closer. It disappears right when the train arrives. Sometimes you get a chance to glance at it before that, and it vanishes all the same. It still makes you anxious, paranoid even. As much as you stubbornly refuse to believe it could be anything more than that, it’s still there, every goddamn day. And only in the mornings. Or maybe you just don’t notice it after work; you don’t tend to hang around the station on your way home.
Then it grows darker, bigger, more intimidating. The thing, shadow, whatever, looks almost human, in both shape and size. Maybe you should be scared? But you’re not. Absolutely not. Because it’s not real. No matter how real in feels, and how you know you’re being watched every time you step foot on that platform, there’s still nobody there when you turn to look. Nor does there seem to be any place someone could slip in and hide, either. You can still feel uneasy about things you don’t believe in, right?
No one else seems to notice it, either. Or maybe it’s some common knowledge – that you just happen to not be aware of – that this station is haunted. (No, not haunted. You don’t believe in that stuff. Nope.) A friend of yours, coming to visit you and whom you go greet at the station, doesn’t see it either. You even ask her about it, point at the shadow and ask if she saw it too. She didn’t, of course not. Why would she? It’s not real. She asks if you’re okay, if you’re overworking yourself again. You swear to yourself you won’t bring it up after that, to anyone.
You’re just paranoid, or maybe you’ve watched Ghosts on CBS too many times. Or you’re just straight up losing your mind. That’s always an option.
And it doesn't stop at the station, oh no. Soon enough, you see the same shadow on the train. You assume it’s the same one, at least. Feel it following you around, eventually ending up watching you at work. You’re not sure how to react when Elphaba freaks out at the sight of your new shadow. You really, really don’t want any confirmation that it’s real, no thank you. But Elphaba is an old cat, her black and white fur greying before she even found herself at the bookstore. An old stray looking for shelter from the rain, the staff explained to you once.
Stubborn as she is, she refused to leave after realizing how warm the store is, with customers and staff alike bringing her treats. The owners, a middle-aged couple, decided to let her stay eventually. Named her, bought toys and scratching posts and food bowls and a few beds. She prefers the armchair in the corner of the shop, though.
Brings in customers, too. New customers are surprised to find a friendly feline greeting them with odd chirps, regulars heading straight to her chair to find her and sneak her treats. She’s gained quite a bit of weight after moving into the store, but nobody bats an eye. She’s old, at least over 12 years old for sure even if her exact age isn’t known, who would have the heart to deny her of her treats?
She’s always so calm and friendly to everyone. Doesn’t even mind kids all that much but has definitely learned to find a place to hide if some loud toddler tries to touch her with their grubby little hands. She can usually be found in the backroom then, her tail peeking out from under the couch or beneath the curtains. But still, much of her time is spent in that armchair. She likes the attention she gets there. If anyone else dares to sit in it, or God forbid some audacious customer shoos her away from it, she’ll go scream at the closest staff member until the injustice has been corrected.
With how calm and lazy Elphaba usually is, it’s quite shocking to see her freaking out when you arrive at work with an extra shadow in tow. She hisses at the dark corner it stands in before running away, hiding in your lap. Rinse and repeat every time she gains the confidence to approach the shadowy being, seemingly trying to intimidate it and failing miserably.
You try to calm her, tell her it’s okay, that there’s nothing there, but it’s hard when you’re not sure if you believe it yourself. Your coworkers laugh and say she must be seeing ghosts. You don’t find it funny, not with your current predicament, but laugh politely anyway. Elphaba ends up getting used to the shadow as the days pass, staring at it in silence from a distance before running off again. Or she’ll be lounging somewhere and suddenly bolt for seemingly no reason. Everyone else laughs, saying she must have been spooked by something. You see the shadow standing where she just laid.
And the thing is, after a few more weeks, it doesn’t disappear the moment you try to lay your eyes on it. It remains, at least for a few seconds, enough for you know you really did see it. The thing is getting bolder by the day, always surprising you with new things. It goes from creeping around to eventually throwing things around. Not aggressively, you don’t think. Tossing your pen under your desk, dropping books from the shelves. Some of Elphaba’s toys even get thrown in front of her face, as it this thing wants to play with her. She either runs off or ignores it.
The books feel like they have some significance, you just struggle to figure it out. It never seems to be just random books flying across the room; they’re all related to either the military or ghost stories. At first you judge the thing’s – you don’t know what else to call it besides a shadow or a thing – book preferences, until your brain starts to connect the dots.
It started with the few copies of Casper the Friendly ghost comics in the kids’ section. Then some more books about friendly ghosts, and some military history books. You try not to think too deeply about it. You’re not being haunted, after all, so why concern yourself with trying to solve a non-existent mystery like this? Someone just didn’t put the books properly back on their shelves, some military or ghost enthusiast. And poor little Elphaba hasn’t been herself recently anyway, she could be knocking them down too. Although it is odd how these things seem to happen only when you’re on shift.
You feel it’s presence stronger, too. It’s gaining strength, or maybe just becoming bolder around you. There’s barely a moment anymore where you don’t feel watched, where you don’t see it looking at you.
It’s looking more human, too. Shaped like a person, tall and strong, instead of just a dark shape in the corner of your eye.
You try asking it things. What or who it is, where it came from, why is it following you around. If it could leave you alone, please and thank you. (All this, and you still try to convince yourself it’s not real. Denial is bliss.) It never responds, and you can’t figure out if it’s because it can’t, or just doesn’t want to.
It’s getting to a point where even when you know the shadow is not there, while out running some errands or while out seeing friends, you almost miss it. And you know for certain that it isn’t following you, you don’t feel its heavy, overwhelming presence behind you, around you, right next to you. It’s weird getting accustomed to it as the weeks and months go by.
Your home isn’t safe anymore, either. It takes longer for the thing to follow you home than it did to follow you to work. You’d like to think it’s because it wanted to respect your privacy or whatever, but that, too, came to an end eventually. Or maybe you failed to notice it at first, maybe this isn’t the first time it’s inside your home.
Your already small apartment feels even more claustrophobic with it lurking around. It’s like having a roommate that has no respect for personal space, always feeling like someone is watching over your shoulder as you cook, or staring at you through the mirror when getting ready for the day or for bed.
It's almost like you can feel the weight of someone next to you on the couch while watching tv, and catch a glimpse of your shady roommate next to your once the screen turns black, arm behind your shoulder on the back of the couch for a brief moment before vanishing.
Not a damn moment of peace, even in your own home.
Thank you for reading! Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated!🌷
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sunnylands-world · 1 year
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Hey I just wanted to let you know I loved the Mafia Draco fic you wrote that I requested. It was absolutely perfect. I was wondering if you do a part 2 where Draco tells her what happened and they have hot steamy sex.
My hero
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Pairing: mafia Draco x fem reader
Summary: Draco comes back mad about the situation at the casino and you can't help but thank him for what he did…
Word count:1'012
Warning: shower sex, Draco's anger in the beginning so aggressive to soft, I think that's it.
Universe: mafia
A/n: I'm glad you liked it and thank you so as requested here's part 2 of fine line
All mistakes are mine
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Your feet sat up on the coffee table and your study books in hand when the door came open startling you as the knob hit the wall. Draco came in; his pale skin littered with blood. He looked enraged. a glare that you recognized too well with his line of work on his face. You sat forward watching as he pulled the dark cover from his suit off his body.
"Draco what's the matter? I thought the trade would have gone well," you ask treading lightly
"I killed him." He said plainly, heading for the kitchen and you followed jumping to your feet in shock.
"What? I- why?" You stuttered, entering the kitchen where he held a glass of orange juice.
He slammed the glass down, sending shards of broken glass and orange juice across the counter.
"Because!" He pauses breathing in deeply
"Because, he insulted you and you know how I feel about that. I don't want anyone saying anything about you." He finished, a hand running through his platinum hair. You knew better than anyone that Draco's temper mixed with his love for you was a storm, but you couldn't deny that Draco being so determined to defend you was a turn on. You sighed, grabbing onto his forearm where his favorite tattoo lay, pulling him towards the stairs.
"Let's get you cleaned up and I'll come down later to clean this." you stated, taking him up the steps towards your shared bedroom. You began helping him pull away his clothes, water running as you purposefully ran a hand down his black dress pants. a hiss left his lips when you got to his boxers, tugging them down his thighs as you kept eye contact with him. You come back up slowly, ignoring his cock as it stood tall for attention. You're only in a faded hoodie of his and some panties and it doesn't take long for him to slam you against the counter, lips attacking yours in a needy kiss and nothing was soft about it.
He makes quick work with his hands sneaking under the jacket, touching your warm skin as he strokes your curves. You keep up,wrapping your hands around his neck and tongue swirling with his. He pulls away to remove your- his hoodie from your body, leaving you in your black cotton panties. He swiftly takes those off of you, pulling open the glass door, you wrapped around him as he shuts it. You move like you're in a rush till you break the kiss. Your hands rest on his firm chest as you slip from his hands.
"Wait, I need to wash all this blood off of you" you explained clearing up his confusion. You reach for his body wash and lather the cloth in a decent amount before you rub the soap into the towel and reach for his neck. His blue eyes lock on yours, occasionally glancing at your smaller body. He was taller than you but you still washed his skin clean, rinsing the cloth and replacing the body soap with a face one instead as you clean the red from his cheeks.
"I love you" he says and you smile pulling back
"I love you too" you respond, heading towards his legs but he pulls you up. His lips collided with yours and you kissed him harder, loving the feeling of his lips against yours. you never got tired of feeling like your head was spinning when you kissed him. He groaned into the kiss as your body rubbed against his applying friction to his cock. the water rained over both of you making you nearly breathless as you moved together. the water dripped down his body as you gripped onto him. He grabbed the back of your thighs, a gasp leaving you. You're pushed against the glass, braising yourself on his shoulders.
"Keep your legs here." He ordered, releasing your leg. He brings the head of his length to your pussy pushing in slowly. Your head falls into his neck, the warm water trickling down your skin makes it all the more intense as he rocks into you. His breath is shallow and he's goaning, hands gripping under your ass cheek. Your nails are in his skin leaving red marks. He pulls you back and forth slamming you against him. The water against the shower floor and the clapping of your skin mixes with your moans.
You're both connected without talking, letting your bodies convey everything you can't put into words and Draco does a good job at twisting his anger with love. You don't have to guess where his feelings lie when he's showing you with the glide of his cock and grip on your body, trying to pull you closer so you can become one.
His lips leave gentle kisses on your neck that have shivers running down your spine and you have clamming down on him as he moves in and out of you. Your legs ache and the knot in your belly tugs tight. He angles his hips upward driving into places you didn't even know you had making you jerk in his hold.
"You gonna cum for me like a good girl" he whispers and you nod your head violently.
"Yes! Yes! yes! Yes! Please Draco!" You repeat, drunk on him.
"Sh shh shhh I'm gonna make it all better princess. just let go for me, let me get you there…please." He says nipping at your neck and you don't need to be told twice as your release takes over. Your toes curl on his back and you let an inaudible cry as you coat his cock in your juices. He thrust into you sloppily with random curses leaving him, his head falling back the water running through his hair as he paints your sensitive walls. You're shaking in his arms as he lowers you to your feet pressing his lips to yours. He pulls back, eyes searching yours.
"I'd do anything for you my love,"
And he proves that to you everyday…
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Draco's lovers and requests
@alexxavicry, @sarahthehuffpuff, @supercoffeeblogs, @thatwattpadobsessed, @amyclare04, @kyracanwrite, @animeloverfreak310, @imafangirl22, @phildunphyisadilf, @jac1ndaa
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Text
The Tapes pt. 2
A slow burn transformation story
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“The tapes are working then! This is great news!” Brian gushed as he hugged Linda. Linda’s heart beat quickly as her face became bright red. Linda felt better than she ever had before. She felt less anxious in public places and around crowds. However, Linda kept the other effects from her good friend. “So you actually went to a bar? Did… did you talk to anyone?” Brian asked, adjusting his glasses.
“No, I ordered a beer and drank it and left.” Linda didn’t want to mention Dave and the motorcycle ride. Linda looked Brian in the eye with confidence. Brian smiled believing her friend’s lie. “So do you want to test the new me out tonight?” she asked him. Brian thought for a moment. He was still curious about how the tapes affected her. He looked at her and nodded.
“Good pick me up at seven and make sure it’s a busy place.” Linda smiled, her voice filled with excitement. She kissed Brian on the cheek and left to get ready. Brian watched his friend walk away as he still felt the warmth of her lips in his cheek. He was sure tonight was going to be interesting.
As Linda got home, she put the shopping bags on the floor. She stripped off her clothes and stepped into the shower, letting the warm water wash away the day's stresses. She closed her eyes, reveling in the sensation of the water on her skin, and began to think about the evening ahead. Her heart raced with anticipation as she imagined herself walking into a bustling bar with Brian, feeling confident and beautiful in the new dress she had bought that afternoon.
She felt her hands caress her sensitive skin. She imagined Brian playing pool with her. She smiled as her hands soaped her body. Brian in his leather jacket brought her to his motorcycle. Linda frowned at her fantasy as she knew Brian didn’t have a motorcycle. Linda in her mind took a ride with him as she felt the vibrating machine against her thighs. Linda opened her eyes realizing she was rubbing herself. Linda swallowed as she stopped daydreaming and finished showering.
As Linda dried off, she put on the new dress. The soft material hugged her body. She sighed as she looked at herself in the mirror, feeling fancy but still unremarkable. Her heart raced with anticipation as she brushed her long hair and applied makeup. She slipped on a new pair of heels, taking care not to trip on them.
Finally, she was ready. Brian was punctual as he rang the doorbell. Linda took a deep breath and opened the door, revealing her date standing outside. He looked handsome in a collared shirt and slacks. Brian looked up and down and gulped. Linda smiled realizing her new look had an effect on him.
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The bar they chose was bustling with activity. People laughed and chatted as they enjoyed their drinks. The music played softly in the background. Linda felt a thrill of excitement as she scanned the room, taking in the atmosphere. Brian guided her to an empty booth and they sat down, their knees touching beneath the table.
The conversation was easy as usual. Brian was elated to see his friend have such vitality. Linda talked with the waiter with ease. “Do you want to play pool with me?” Linda asked. Brian nodded, pushing his glasses up his nose. She had never played pool before, but she didn't want to let Brian know that. She followed him to the pool table, feeling his eyes on her as she walked. They laughed as they kept missing the cue ball with their pool sticks.
Linda found herself feeling more confident in her new clothes. She leaned against the pool table, stretching her arms above her head. She could feel the material of her dress cling to her skin. Brian smiled as he watched her, enjoying the view. She felt a new sense of power when she sank a ball into the pocket, earning a point. Her heart raced with excitement.
Brian brought her back home at a reasonable hour. Linda tried her hardest to hide her disappointment. “Linda this was so much fun!” Brian gushed as he helped her out of his car. He walked her to the door and they stood there, the silence between them deafening. He finally mustered the courage to speak.
Her heart skipped a beat as she looked up at him. There was a newfound light in his eyes, and a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He reached out and brushed a stray hair from her face. "Linda... you're amazing. You really are." Linda couldn’t help herself as she grabbed Brian’s collar and pulled him into a kiss. His lips were soft and warm against hers, sending shivers down her spine. She could feel his heart racing beneath her palm.
Linda’s hand traveled down Brian’s body as she felt his manhood. Brian instinctively moaned as he kissed Linda. Linda rubbed Brian’s crotch faster. Brian pushed away from Linda. “Umm Linda… we shouldn’t move too fast.” Linda didn't let this deter her. She grabbed on Brian’s belt buckle and looked deep into his eyes. “Come upstairs with me.” Her voice was a command, but it was laced with desire.
Brian looked like he would obey as he closed his eyes briefly. He moved backwards slowly. “I… can’t I’m sorry. I’ll call you later.” Brian walked to his car as he heard Linda slam the door of her house. She raced upstairs to her room and looked at herself in the mirror. “So stupid.” She grumbled to herself. She flopped down on her bed, taking her heels off to get ready for bed. As she lay there, she got her headphones and Walkman ready. She looked at the tape book and pulled a tape from “Standing Out”.
She closed her eyes, letting the affirmations wash over her. The words were so powerful, so true. She felt a renewed sense of strength and determination. She listened as she thought of how Brian backed away. “He was afraid Linda. You are becoming more than he can handle. You need a real man. A man who isn’t afraid to take what he wants.”
The tape continued to play, and Linda felt herself growing more and more aroused. She felt her heart beat faster. A new thought entered her mind. She smiled as she got up from bed. She put on a pair of jeans a tshirt and the same heels she wore to her date. She walked quickly to the dive bar near her home.
She smiled as she saw Dave’s motorcycle parked outside. She quickly walked in and found Dave playing pool. He glanced at her, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Well, look who decided to grace us with her presence," he drawled. She walked up to Dave with a determined look in her eyes. “Teach me how to play.”
Dave chuckled. "Well, aren't you feisty tonight?" He gestured to an empty pool table. "Alright then, let's show you the ropes." He patiently showed her how to hold the cue stick, she smiled as she felt him behind her. She could feel his strong hands guiding hers. As she leaned back against him, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. His aroma filled her senses, and she couldn't help but feel a wave of desire wash over her.
Dave was surprised by her reactions. He had always thought Linda was a bit of a prude. But now, as she leaned into him, he couldn't help but feel a surge of power and confidence. He watched as she took her first shot, and she sank the ball. There was a newfound light in her eyes, and a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
They played several more games, and each time, Linda seemed to improve. Her confidence grew with each shot she made. She laughed and joked with Dave, her voice bubbling over with happiness. The more they played, the more comfortable she felt in his presence.
Dave offered her a ride home as she nodded yes enthusiastically. They climbed onto his motorcycle, the wind whipping through her hair. She felt a thrill of excitement as they sped down the street, the wind pressing against her back. When they arrived at her house, she hesitated for a moment before getting off the bike.
She began to walk to her house but looked back at Dave. She turned back and kissed him. He responded, kissing her deeply. His strong hands gripped her hips, pulling her closer to him. She felt a surge of desire as their bodies pressed against each other.
Linda put her hand down at Dave’s crotch and began to rub at it. She could hear Dave groan in approval. His hips bucked into her hand, and she smiled as she felt his arousal. She leaned in closer, kissing him deeply as her other hand undid the button on his jeans. She jumped as she felt his rough hands grab her backside.
He pulled her closer and ground his hips against hers. She could feel his erection pressing against her stomach. She arched her back, pressing her breasts against his chest. Dave sat back on his motorcycle as Linda swung her leg around him. They looked at each other as she sat on his lap. Her legs were on either side of his hips and she wrapped her arms around his neck.
Linda instinctively began grinding on Dave. Her lips curled as she saw Dave’s eyes roll back with arousal. She gripped his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin. He moaned, and she could feel his hips bucking against her. His erection pressed against her core, and she arched her back, seeking more contact.
Their kiss deepened as their bodies moved together in a rhythm that felt both familiar and exhilarating. The sounds of their passion filled the night air, mingling with the distant sounds of traffic and laughter from the bar. As they continued to ride, she felt the familiar tightening in her stomach, and knew she was close.
Dave pulled back from the kiss, his eyes searching hers. He leaned forward, his breath hot against her ear. "You like to ride don’t ya?” He growled, his hips bucking against her in a demanding rhythm. Linda moaned, arching her back as she felt his erection pressing against her. Linda felt her body start to shake, her orgasm building within her. She felt her panties and jeans soak with her juices as some of it leaked onto Dave’s jeans.
“Oh, fuck!” Linda’s body trembled as she orgasmed dry humping Dave. Linda hopped off the motorcycle as she walked into her house. She heard the roar of Dave’s motorcycle as he rode off. Linda locked the door and collapsed onto her bed, still trembling from the intensity of her orgasm. She had never felt so alive.
She knew she had to have another adventure like that soon. A quiet night at home sounded so boring to the former homebody. She looked at the tape book on her nightstand. She took a tape from the “Grabbing Attention” section. She kicked her heels off and let her jeans fall to the floor. She put the tape into the Walkman she put her headphones on as she drifted to sleep.
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yawnderu · 7 months
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Lorelei — Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader | Part III
Spoilers for MW3 ahead.
1 2 3 4 5 6
Short chapter to keep the writing inspiration going, next one will be longer.<3
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''Si?'' You ask softly as you see the brooding figure on the doorframe. He's standing so still you would think it's a cardboard cutout, though the way his chest moves up and down gives him away. He doesn't say anything, simply walks up to you slowly, footsteps oddly quiet for someone his size.
You do nothing but sit up in bed slowly, looking at the familiar figure crouch down next to your bed, the black balaclava still on. You barely manage to see his eyes before he looks down, though you can recognize that haunted look in his eyes easily.
''What happened?'' You ask softly, hand on the back of his masked head as he rests his head on your lap. You see him take a few deep breaths, trying to hold himself together.
''Johnny's gone.'' Is all he can manage to say, voice raspy and weak. You've seen Simon lose comrades throughout the years, but Soap was a brother to him. He was the closest thing to Tommy he ever had, and losing a brother again felt like having his heart ripped out a second time. You hold him closer, hands applying light pressure on his back and he gets the message, climbing in bed with you. It's dark— you can't even see anything other than his outline, but you can feel him.
''I'm sorry, Simon.'' He stays quiet, simply allowing you to hold him close, his masked face seeking shelter on your warm chest, your hand running up and down his back while you console him. He removes his mask, knowing he never has to cover up around you, the feeling of the warm skin of your chest on his face slowly grounding him. You rock him gently, planting a soft kiss on his short hair,
''I'm here.'' He nods weakly, arms wrapping around your waist as he holds you as close to him as possible, fitting so perfectly like a missing puzzle piece. Despite the heartbreak from when he left, your pride is put aside to care for him, holding him in the same motherly way you held your baby when she was born.
''I'm sorry.'' He doesn't have to specify; you know what he's talking about.
''It's okay.'' You both know it's far from okay, but you push it to the back of your mind, for now.
''She awake?'' You shake your head, mumbling a small ''mm-mm'' in reply. He nods, arms wrapping tighter around you. The last thing he wanted was to wake up his little girl, always making sure he was being quiet as Ghost, despite being Simon as soon as he stepped into your house.
After years of knowing Simon— yes, Simon Riley, before he became Ghost, you know better than to ask what happened or press for details. You were there when he lost his family, watching him become Ghost, and you supported him along the way. This isn't any different. The night is spent with both of you holding each other, limbs intertwined. You don't even notice when you start drifting off, head slowly leaning back to the side and eyes growing heavier, though you don't fight it, the mass on top of you heavy and warm enough to feel like a second blanket.
''Hey, big guy.'' You greet tiredly, fingers running through his short blond hair as he looks up at you. The whites of his eyes are now red, veins painfully visible, and it's just a confirmation that he didn't sleep at all, simply focusing on watching you in your sleep and being too into his own head.
''Let me take care of you. I'll be here till you're right, Simon.''
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I didn't learn how to shower properly until I was an adult for reasons that are deeply painful to me, and when someone finally sat me down and walked me gently through the steps it was so healing I cried, so here is my little pass it on moment
Maintainance Showers:
Run the water for a few moments until it feels room temperature to the skin, and then step into the shower and adjust the heat to your preferred temperature
Stand with your back to the spray and step back so that your head is just underneath, then tilt your head back slightly and brush your fingers through your hair to help the water soak through the strands
Step forward so that you are out of the spray, and apply a dollop of a light conditioner to your hands (how much will depend on how much hair you have).
Squish the conditioner all around in your hands and then squish the ends of your hair (but don't rub) between your hands. Then gently brush your fingers through your hair from root to end until you have spread the conditioner evenly. You can also keep a wide toothed comb around to do this with.
While you let the conditioner sit in your hair, grab your soap. I like to wrap mine in a washcloth, hold it under the spray, and then scrub it up in my hands to build a lather. Then you rub the washcloth wrapped soap bar (or lathered liquid soap) in small, gentle circles over your skin. You can apply a little pressure to sturdy skin like arms and legs, but should be soft with skin like faces and genitals. Make sure you never apply soap internally.
After you've applied your soap, step back under the spray and rinse off. Then tilt your head back and brush your fingers through your hair to rinse out your conditioner.
When you turn off your water and step out of the shower, grab your towel and use it to press and gently squish your hair and skin without rubbing.
Wash Day Showers:
Run the water for a few moments until it feels room temperature to the skin (at this point you may choose to throw in a shower steamer for the ~luxury~) and then step into the shower and adjust the heat to your preferred temperature
Stand with your back to the spray and step back so that your head is just underneath, then tilt your head back slightly and brush your fingers through your hair to help the water soak through the strands
Step forward so that you are out of the spray, and apply a dollop of shampoo** to your hands (how much will depend on how much hair you have).
**Some folks may choose an additional step here of apply a pre-treatment which should be applied in the same way as conditioner, left in for several minutes, and then thoroughly rinsed before moving onto shampoo.
Squish the shampoo into your hands and then begin to apply it to your scalp by pressing your fingertips to your scalp and performing a massaging motion in gentle small circles. Once you have done this over the surface of your scalp, brush the remainder through the ends of your hair. Immediately step back under the spray and rinse your hair by brushing your fingers through your hair.
Step forward so that you are out of the spray, and apply a dollop of conditioner to your hands (how much will depend on how much hair you have). Wash day is a good time to use a heartier conditioner, though if you've used a pretreatment you can probably stick with your usual supply.
Squish the conditioner all around in your hands and then squish the ends of your hair (but don't rub) between your hands. Then gently brush your fingers through your hair from root to end until you have spread the conditioner evenly. You can also keep a wide toothed comb around to do this with.
While you let the conditioner sit in your hair, grab a sugar scrub (made by mixing sugar, a carrier oil like almond, olive, or jojoba, and 1-2 drops of any scent oils you prefer) and scoop a large dollop. Apply to your legs and arms by massaging small gentle circles on your skin. Rinse off when done (this is a fun luxury step, not necessary if you wash with a washcloth regularly). Do not use sugar scrubs on delicate skin like faces and genitals. No need to soap up after this folks, exfoliation, especially with carrier oils, is a mechanical cleansing process, but you can if you'd like to cut any excess oil left on your skin.
After you've rinsed off, tilt your head back and brush your fingers through your hair to rinse out your conditioner.
When you turn off your water and step out of the shower, grab your towel and use it to press and gently squish your hair and skin without rubbing.
Apply a thin layer of face oil (or a plain carrier oil like olive, almond, or jojoba) to your face by massaging into your skin with small circles
I aim (unsuccessfully at times) to have maintenance showers about 2-3 times per 7 days, and a wash day shower 1-2 times per 30 days.
Showering can be hard for those of us who have a lot of big feelings caught up in how we do it, when we do it, what it feels or looks like to do it, and all that jazz. I used to feel really down on myself about it, and sometimes it still gets to me. But learning what a shower can look like (this is not the only way! Just the one I was taught!) Made it a lot easier for me to be okay with the idea that my showers could look like what I needed them to be, even if that wasn't what it looked like for someone else.
I hope everyone who sees this takes what helps them and leaves what doesn't and moves a little closer to making showering feel safe and cozy for themselves.
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luxtout · 7 months
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Flames Unveiled (Chapter 8- More Devine Than Wine) Aegon II Targaryen X (Bastard Velaryon) Reader X Aemond Targaryen
Summary: After six years living away from Kings Landing, you and your family are summoned back, for reasons unknown. Your mother, Rhaenyra, has different plans for you. You swore to always protect your family, but at what cost?
Warning: References to / sexual content (18+), injuries, cursing, drinking, fights, angst
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Tagged: @faesspace @a-beaverhausen
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7
The morning after the feast left you in a fragile state. Your overindulgence in wine had left its mark as you lay on your bed, your stomach facing the ceiling while Mara went to fetch tea for you.
"Princess, sip on the tea while I start your bath," Mara's voice echoed too loudly as she closed your bedchamber doors.
"Mara, I appreciate your kindness, but please be a little less... loud," you murmured, rubbing your temples and rising to your feet. Your nightgown clung to your body, the open window allowing warm air into the room. Today was the tourney, and the heat was almost unbearable.
Lifting the teacup to your lips, you listened to the birds chirping in the trees. "The bath is ready."
Setting the cup down, you shed your nightgown and stepped into the tub. The water was hot but felt heavenly as Mara wet your hair, applying oils and soaps to your scalp, gently scrubbing.
The door opened, revealing your mother.
"We no longer knock?" You raised an eyebrow, a small smirk forming as your mother smiled at you.
"I just wished to let you know that Cregan Stark requested your presence in the courtyard," Rhaenyra's smile widened as she noticed your face light up.
"Oh, okay, I'll meet him once I'm finished," you blushed, looking up at Mara, "Can you... um... hurry?"
Mara nodded, scrubbing faster. Rhaenyra sighed, pacing the room toward your wardrobe, "You don't need to rush, though... How about this dress? It would be perfect, wouldn't it?"
You turned to see the ruby red dress, a sweetheart neckline with gold embroidery. Your mother pulled it from your wardrobe, laying it on your bed, instructing Mara to leave your hair down.
Mara agreed, helping you out of the tub and wrapping you in a towel. Rhaenyra hummed as she looked out the window, while Mara dressed you.
Your hair by then was damp. Rhaenyra instructed Mara to leave, telling her she could finish getting you ready. She brushed through your waves, humming the songs she used to sing to you when you were little. Your headache slowly dissipated as you relaxed to your mother's soft voice.
"Okay, let's have a look at you," Rhaenyra smiled, inspecting you through the mirror. You smiled back, feeling much simpler than the previous night. You adjusted the tight sleeves, smoothing down the skirts. "You look perfect, don't fret."
She escorted you to the courtyard, and there was no need to search for Cregan Stark. He stood out, almost pitifully, a wolf amid dragons. Northern men typically dressed in layers of clothes and furs, yet Cregan wore a thin cotton long sleeve under a leathered vest.
"Princess," he nodded to your mother before focusing on you, "Princess."
"Lord Stark," you smiled, feeling your mother's departure from your company. "I must admit, I was a bit surprised by your request to see me."
"Was I too eager? Did my request catch you off guard?" He smiled, guiding you down the cobblestone walkway.
"No, I was awake. I suppose I overindulged in spirits last night," you chuckled, glancing up quickly. "Although, I don't typically drink that much..."
Cregan laughed as you attempted to explain, "Don't worry, princess. In the North, you have to drink to stay warm. If you don't, one trip during the winter would leave you frozen."
Laughter bubbled from your lips as you both rounded the corner. Lords and ladies respectfully made way as you walked, although the added attention wasn't something you particularly enjoyed. Cregan walked beside you, his hand hovering near the small of your back, guiding you through the crowds.
"Lord Stark—"
"You can call me Cregan," he offered, waiting for your response.
"Cregan... Your sigil, it's a direwolf, correct?" You furrowed your brow, recalling the simplest lesson your Septa had taught you. "Have you ever seen one before?"
Cregan smiled, gazing ahead as he answered, "Yes, I have. There aren't many that venture south of the Wall. I consider myself fortunate to have seen one."
You hummed, nudging a pebble on the ground. "I wish to see one before the last of them return north."
The wind picked up, tousling your hair as you looked skyward to a cloudless sky. The clash of metal caught your attention, leading you both around the corner to witness two men engaged in a brutal fight, both sporting silver locks.
Their battle was fierce, each blow appearing painful. Now you understood why your brothers often showed up to supper with bruises. Aegon glanced up briefly, his eyes scanning your figure next to Cregan, who had a protective hand over you. Aemond, however, paid no attention, taking advantage of the distraction to strike Aegon in the back.
"Let's go this way, Y/N," Cregan whispered, guiding you away from the pair. It fell silent for a moment, the clashing sounds growing fainter as you reached the edge of the walkway overlooking the Blackwater. The water was calm, waves lapping over the rocks, and the cold breeze played with the fabric of your skirts.
"When should I bring you back?" Cregan asked, gazing out to the horizon. "You must need to get ready for the tourney."
You hummed, interlocking your hands in front of you. "I shouldn't be late, like I was last night."
Cregan smiled softly, extending his hand. "I shall escort you back, just in case you get lost on your way."
His hand felt warm against your skin as you clasped it in yours. Cregan was a sweet man and seemed the best choice for your hand. If you were honest, he provided a welcome distraction from your uncles. Spending more time with either of them felt dangerous. Cregan's grip softened as you entered the castle walls, and he kissed your hand before parting ways. You walked briskly to your room, leaning against the door once you closed it.
"Cregan's grip softened as you entered the castle walls, and he kissed your hand before departing. You walked quickly to your room, leaning against the door as you closed it.
"Back from your walk, niece?" A scream escaped your mouth as you turned to see Aemond sitting at your table.
"What are you doing in here?" You whispered harshly, stepping toward the table but keeping your distance.
"Did I come at the wrong time?" He smirked, rising from the chair and hovering over you, trapping you between himself and the table.
"I was just... answer my question." You straightened your back, trying to appear tall but failing.
His hand gripped your cheek. "I wanted to check on you before... You looked beautiful last night."
Heat rushed to your cheeks, and you tried to quell your nerves. "Then why didn't you say that last night?"
Aemond's eyebrows raised. "You weren't in the mood for such... flattery." His hand pulled your head closer, his lips grazing yours, awaiting your response."
"I find it strange how you wish to be this close to me," Your eyes glossed over his eye, "Do you have any other intensions, uncle?"
Aemond's lips crashed onto yours, gripping at the nape of your neck. Your hand rested against the back of the table, trying to steady yourself as Aemond pushed forward, his hips pressed against yours. Lips danced whist your tongues fought for dominance, in which he won. His hand pulled you closer, lifting your leg, his nails dug into your flesh earning a soft gasp from you.
"Aemond..." You gasped, feeling his hand move higher on your thigh. You felt a tightening in your stomach as he inched closer to your core. "Aemond, we mustn't go this far."
Aemond's body tensed, glaring at you before scoffing. "I will not keep you, niece."
His hands shoved off of you, as if you were poisonous, leaving your room in a puff. Your skirt was hiked up, your hair was a mess, and you felt a certain slick from between your legs. Frustration filled your veins as you stripped from your dress, wearing a gold and red dress, the same style as the one you were already wearing.
You braided the top half of your hair like a crown, brushing out your waves before stepping out of your room.
"Y/N!" Helaena's voice echoed down the hall. She rushed towards you, clutching her skirts, and enveloped you in a hug. "I heard about this morning."
Your throat tightened. "What do you mean?"
Helaena whispered, her eyes twinkling, "Cregan Stark. The Wolf of the North!"
You exhaled shakily. "Oh, yes... He's a very pleasant man... Kind and... quite handsome."
Helaena beamed as you both strolled down to the carriages. Outside, you noticed Aemond, Aegon, Jace, and Luke all waiting.
"Are they making us all arrive together?" You asked, wrinkling your nose and avoiding eye contact with your uncles.
"Unfortunately," Jace replied, his gaze shifting from Aegon to Aemond. Aegon scoffed and spun on his heels, attempting to disengage.
Slowly, a carriage arrived, spacious enough for all of you. Helaena practically dragged you inside before anyone else could join. Once everyone squeezed in, the carriage set off for the tourney grounds. Helaena sat to your left, Jace and Luke to your right. Across from you were Aegon and Aemond, both seemingly disinterested, trying to avoid catching anyone's eye, although you felt Aegon's gaze, his eyes already hazy.
When the carriage stopped, Aemond and Aegon were the first to leave, disappearing to take their places in the viewing box. Jace and Luke waited for you and Helaena, extending their hands to escort you both inside. As you reached your seats, the sounds of cheers erupted from the arena.
The King and Queen sat in the center, with your mother and Daemon on the King's side, and the Hand of the King on the Queen's side. Below them, the children and grandchildren sat closest to the action. Aegon and Aemond were already seated, Aegon somehow managing to find wine and already onto his third cup. Helaena sat next to Aemond, and you followed next to her. The wind picked up, clouds starting to block the sun.
The King stood, but everyone remained seated. "Welcome! Though the weather seems to not be so forgiving, I will make simple work of this speech: May the best man win!"
Cheers erupted as the men rode out on their horses. Truthfully, you didn't care much for tourneys—the bloodshed and bad sportsmanship didn't appeal to you. Helaena held her favor on her lap, as did you. Your flowers were a sorry sight, dried and brittle, red roses and small white petals woven into the stems.
The first match was between men from House Tully and House Baratheon. They exchanged jests before standing on opposite sides, charging at each other until their jousting pole snapped. Helaena jumped as the man from House Tully fell, spitting blood and lying on the ground. You noticed Aemond grabbing her hand, offering a slight rub in comfort.
Next were House Arryn and House Lannister. Both men circled around, receiving cheers from the crowd. The man from House Lannister requested your mother's favor. She sighed, getting up to throw it over the pole, earning a teasing smile from you as she gripped your shoulder.
Thunder rumbled overhead, as if a dragon was about to strike. You turned to your grandsire, who shifted uneasily in his seat, blood trickling from his nose. Lightning struck, startling the horses and the crowd. The Queen called for all carriages to be prepared, holding onto the King and tending to his nosebleed. Rhaenyra and Daemon assisted as they left the area. The wind whipped around the top of the tent, tearing it slightly as the rain pelted down, stinging your skin.
"Helaena, go find a carriage," you instructed, taking one last look at the tourney grounds before another lightning bolt struck the ground. Jace grabbed your hand, pulling you away from the opening. The wind intensified, nearly knocking Helaena over as women struggled with their dresses clinging to their legs. Aemond steadied his sister and guided her toward a carriage. Jace and Luke dashed to another, everyone scrambling into different carriages than they had arrived in.
"Help!" A woman's cry rang out from behind, causing you to halt. "Help!"
Struggling against the wind, you found a woman trapped beneath a wooden pillar. Her leg was pinned, and she was covered in mud.
"I'll help you, just give me a moment..." You panted, looking around for assistance, but there was no one nearby. You gripped the wooden pillar, trying to lift it, but it was too heavy. The woman cried out in pain as you strained, unable to lift it enough for her to free herself.
"Please! Don't leave me, princess!" the woman begged, rain pelting down harder as thunder and lightning grew closer and louder.
"I'll try again," you panted, your hands now covered in mud and blood as you struggled to maintain your grip. The wood cut into your hands as you strained, attempting to lift it. With a lighter second tug, the woman managed to crawl out and escape.
"Thank you! Thank you both!" she exclaimed, kneeling briefly before bolting away. As you turned, you found Aegon behind you, his clothes soaked and covered in mud. He gripped your arm as debris flew around.
There were no more carriages, and the horses posed too much risk. Aegon guided you down a narrow road, attempting to follow the path, but falling debris nearly rendered you unconscious.
"Aegon, we have to find somewhere safe. We don't know when the storm will pass, and walking back isn't an option," you pleaded, attempting to wipe the mud from your face. Aegon glanced longingly back toward the Keep before tugging you down the road again.
He pulled hard, maneuvering you over debris to ensure your safety, even as your hands felt raw. Lightning struck a nearby home, sending sparks and flames forward. Aegon hesitated momentarily before rushing forward. The streets began to flood, and you tried to hold your skirts above the water. The Keep was nearby, but the carriages were behind the walls, the gates closing.
"Aegon... The gates are closed; we'll have to go around," your voice struggled to be heard amidst the cacophony of screams and chaos.
"Come on," he guided you between buildings, gripping your hips to navigate past loose horses. The storm ravaged everything in its path. Your legs ached, and when you couldn't jump, Aegon lifted you.
Soaked, covered in mud, and in pain, you both reached the Keep. No guards noticed as you tracked mud into the main stairwell, listening to the Queen and Rhaenyra's frantic shouts.
"What do you mean they weren't in a carriage?"
"Where in the Seven Hells would they be?" Your mother's voice echoed with worry. "Daemon, please go out and find them."
Aegon released your hand as you solemnly stepped into view. Mud caked your wet skirts, your hair was completely soaked, and your hands were red and raw.
At your side stood Aegon, his hair just as wet, mud staining his clothes and boots. His face was pale, dark circles under his eyes indicating exhaustion. When he spoke, his voice was tinged with annoyance, "No need."
Rhaenyra's heart sank as she noticed your state, quickly ushering you to your room. Although you wanted to turn around and thank Aegon, he was gone, his footprints leading up the stairs to his bedchambers.
"My dear, when I found out you were still out there, I..." Your mother stammered, gently brushing warm water over your skin. She immediately ordered a bath to be prepared for you, which you welcomed gratefully.
"Mother, may I have a moment to myself? I just want to relax a bit," you requested, smiling as you rubbed the dirt from your face.
Rhaenyra nodded, leaving the room swiftly. It was midday, and the storm showed no signs of abating. Tree branches crashed against windows, and the wind howled outside. After finishing your bath, you dressed in a simple gold gown.
You paced your room, the sound of your shoes tapping against the floor echoing in the silence. A sense of unease settled in your stomach, compelling you to make a right decision. Despite trying to resist, you found yourself standing at the entrance to Aegon's bedchamber.
No guards were in sight, and an off-putting feeling came over you as your hand rose to knock three times on the door. The other side remained quiet, leading you to believe that Aegon might not be there. Perhaps he had left the Keep and gone to Flea Bottom? But no, the storm was still raging. Could he be drinking in the kitchens? Or maybe... he was with his wife.
The thought of his wife left a bitter taste in your mouth, though you couldn't discern why. After a brief pause with no response, you turned to leave, but just as you did, the door squeaked open.
"Alora?" Aegon's groggy voice came from behind you. You hesitantly turned around, taking in his disheveled appearance. It had only been a few hours since you were separated, yet he seemed worse for wear. He had cleaned off the mud, wearing a white formal shirt and black pants, his boots on but untied.
"Oh, Aegon," you stammered, fidgeting with your hands. Aegon watched with a bored expression, scratching his chin as he leaned against the doorframe. "I just wanted to thank you. You didn't need to come back for me, but you did."
Aegon pursed his lips, nodding absentmindedly. "Want some wine?"
His unexpected question caught you off guard, but you nodded and followed him into his chambers. The room was darker and messier than any you had seen before. Pitchers of wine were strewn about, and Aegon shut the door behind you, pouring a glass and pushing it toward you.
"Why did you truly come here, niece?" Aegon asked, pouring his own wine.
You raised your glass to your lips, sipping slowly before swallowing. "Just as I said, to thank you."
"To thank me..." Aegon mocked, circling around to sit on the foot of his bed. "You could have thanked me at any other time. Coming to my chambers in the evening seems quite... odd."
His eyes tried to probe into yours, but you refused to let him unsettle you. "And why did you request I come in for wine, uncle? Did you wish to keep my company?"
A small smile tugged at his lips as you leaned against his table, taking another sip of your wine. He tapped his foot against the bed, his hazy eyes glancing at the ground, clearly already drunk.
"Y/N, you look quite beautiful," he said, his voice coarse as he slowly looked up. To say you were shocked would be an understatement; Aegon never said anything nice to you.
"That's how I know you're drunk," you scoffed, placing your glass on the table. "Do you have anything else to do besides drink and give me... false hope?"
Aegon's expression twisted. "False hope? I try to be nice, and that isn't good enough for you? You constantly put me down, but trust me, if I wanted to harm you, I could."
You remained leaning against the table, arms crossed over your chest. "Is that so?"
Aegon gulped down his wine, then hurled the glass across the room, making you jump. "I could ruin you. I could tell everyone about Flea Bottom or spill about Aemond. I could lie to them all."
His face loomed closer to yours, making you straighten your back. "Then why haven't you? Why not tell them about last night too? Or are you afraid of getting in trouble for corrupting your dear niece?"
Aegon drew nearer, his voice taunting, "I haven't corrupted you yet, niece."
"Is that so?"
"You'd know what it feels like to be corrupted by me..." His breath tickled your lips, the closeness unnerving. He teased, his body pressing against yours, trapping you against the table. "Is that what you want?"
Your lips met his before he could utter another word. Your hands tangled in his hair, granting better access as he groaned. His grip tightened around your waist, his lips moving in sync with yours as he gasped. When you pulled away, both of you were left panting. Aegon glared at you, brimming with lust and devotion.
"Is that how you corrupt..." Your words faded as Aegon's lips crashed back onto yours, biting your bottom lip so hard it drew blood. A soft moan escaped your lips, prompting Aegon to lift you up, clearing the table and settling you on it. His hands explored the back of your head, tugging at your hair as he kissed down your jawline, reaching your collarbone.
"Aegon..." You exhaled, moaning softly as he traced back up to your mouth, kissing you fervently as his hands wandered down to your legs. He paused, slowly moving to the hem of your dress. You gasped as his calloused hands glided upward.
"Aegon..." Your voice quivered as he gazed into your eyes, his own dark with intensity. He caressed your thighs, his voice low. "I could make you feel good... I could make you feel like you're riding a dragon... Would you like that?"
His hand moved closer up, rubbing in circles until he got close to your entrance. He waited for a response, slowly moving his lips to your neck. "I... Okay..."
That's all Aegon needed to hear before he attacked your lips once more, licking your bottom lip for entrance. You opened, your tongues danced as you felt his finger slide up against your folds, making your body shake. Your hands moved to Aegon's shoulders; your kisses faltered as Aegon coated his finger in your juices.
"So nice and wet... Is that all for me?" He purred in your ear, his finger worked at rubbing your clit. Your moan filled Aegon with pleasure as he quickened his pace, "Does that feel good?"
Another moan escaped from your lips; your hips buckled at his touch, slowly sliding a finger into you. "Aegon..." You moaned softly, leaning your head on the crook of his neck as he pumped his finger in and out. You found this surreal, moaning and panting your uncles name as he fucked you with his fingers.
"So nice and tight... But I think you can fit another in there..." He breathed against your neck, adding another digit into your warmth. Lude sounds erupted as he fastened his pace, each pump earned a squeal from you, and that drove Aegon further.
Your leg wrapped around Aegon's hips as he added another finger, pumping and blocking your moans with his lips. Your nails dug into him as he pumped faster with one hand and rubbed your clit with the other. Your mind became flooded, earning bites from Aegon as he worked from your neck and down your collar.
"Do you like that Y/N?" He whispered, earning a moan from your lips, "I need words, love."
You leaned into his ears, "Yes... I like it."
This earned a growl from him, as he squeezed in another finger pumping fast and working at your clit. You felt a twist in your core as he continued, and Aegon would feel you tighten around his fingers. "You are close aren't you?"
His hands moved in ungodly speeds, as you nodded, digging your nails into his shoulder. He moved his fingers upwards inside you, curling them up and down causing you to peak faster. Your legs shook and eyes fluttered as you became undone, and Aegon's actions slowed, the both of you trying to catch your breaths. Aegon pulled his fingers out, making eye contact with you as he licked them clean.
Once he pulled away, you could taste yourself on his lips and tongue. Your hands slowly dropped to your sides as he stepped back.
"There. Do you feel corrupted now? Or shall we go further?" Aegon smirked, retreating to pour himself more wine. As you adjusted your skirts, you noticed his eyes never left your body, observing your descent from the table to your feet.
"I..." You began, but embarrassment flushed your cheeks, leaving the sentence incomplete. "Was that a joke to you?"
Aegon sucked air through his teeth, "It started that way, but dear niece, you taste divine."
Your face reddened as Aegon drew you into an embrace. "Aegon, please be serious."
Aegon chuckled, "I am. I've tasted many a whore, but none compared to you."
"Is that supposed to be a compliment?" You smirked, leaning into his arms, eliciting a hum from Aegon. But then the thought of Helaena struck you. "Wait... This isn't fair to Helaena."
Aegon rolled his eyes as you pushed him away. "I doubt she would mind."
The feeling of guilt consumed you as you walked towards the door, closing it behind you without another word. Your legs carried you throughout the castle in an attempt to clear your mind until you heard muffled moans.
Quickly hiding behind a wall, you witnessed two people engaged in passionate intimacy. You were near the kitchens, close to the servants' quarters, far from any guarded areas. The pair was fervently entwined near sacks of food, their actions echoed throughout the room. You turned the corner to see who it was, only to immediately regret it.
It was Helaena, her eyes closed, body moving with each thrust against the wall, while behind her stood her paramour.
Aemond.
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