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harrysfolklore · 4 months ago

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first win - op81

gif by @princemick <33

summary: the road to oscar’s first grand prix win. wc: 3.4K

folkie radio: OSC’S FIRST WIN 🥹🥹🥹 that race that so stressful but he did it and i’m so happy! fun fact: i wrote this fic last night bc i just FELT oscar was winning, i just added today’s race a few hours ago 😭 i hope you like it! leave feedback

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

February 5, 2023. Bahrain Grand Prix

Today was the big day. Oscar Piastri was set to make his Formula 1 debut as a McLaren driver.

You've talked about this countless of times, sharing dreams and fears, mapping out every step of his journey from karting to the pinnacle of motorsport.

Now, as you stood in the garage with the crowd's energy buzzing around you, it was hard to believe that moment had finally arrived.

Oscar was going through some pre-race talks with his team. You caught sight of him from a distance, his face a mask of focus and determination. When he spotted you, he broke into a smile, and for a brief moment, the tension seemed to melt away.

You make your way over to him as he finishes up with his team.

"Ready to set the track on fire, hotshot?" you tease, playfully tugging at the sleeve of his race suit.

Oscar grins, a mix of excitement and nerves dancing in his eyes. "Well, hopefully not literally. I don't think the team would appreciate a barbecued car on my first outing."

His chuckle is tinged with a hint of nervousness. You notice his hand fidgeting with the zipper of his race suit – a telltale sign of his pre-race jitters.

"Hey," you say softly, taking his hand. "Remember what we always say? You've earned this. You belong here."

"I know. It's just...," he took a deep breath, "It's really happening, isn't it? All those years of dreaming, and now..."

"And now you're about to drive the pants off everyone out there," you finish for him, your voice filled with confidence.

As the final call for drivers echoes through the garage, you both know it's time. Oscar's eyes lock with yours, a swirl of emotions passing between you. Without a word, he pulls you close, his lips meeting yours in a tender kiss. It's brief but filled with emotion.

"For luck," you whisper as you part, your foreheads still touching.

"With you here, I've got all the luck I need," Oscar replies softly, his smile warm and genuine.

With a final squeeze of your hand, he heads to where he's needed. You watch him go, your heart racing with anticipation.

The race begins, and for the first 14 laps, everything seems to be going well. Oscar is holding his own, fighting in the midfield, showing flashes of the talent that got him here.

But on lap 15, your heart sinks as you see his car slow down, veering off the racing line. The team radio crackles with the devastating news: "Box, box. We have a steering issue. We need to retire the car."

You watch, helpless, as Oscar brings the car back to the pits. The disappointment is palpable as he climbs out, his debut cut short.

As soon as he's free from the debrief, you find him in his driver's room. His face is a mask of frustration and disappointment.

"Hey," you say softly, taking his hand. "You okay?"

Oscar sighs, squeezing your hand. "Not really. I just... I wanted to finish the race, you know? Show everyone what I could do."

You pull him into a hug. "And you will. This is just the first race, Oscar. There are plenty more to come."

July 9, 2023. British Grand Prix

Silverstone is one of the most special races in the calendar, and for Oscar it's even more special because England is his second home.

He really wanted to deliver a great result. So far, he hadn't been able to place above P8 and he desperately wanted to improve that.

"I know you're nervous about tomorrow," you said as you laid your head on his chest, feeling him tense, "But you're going to do great, baby."

Oscar wraps his arm around you, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on your shoulder. "You really think so?" he asks, his voice a mix of hope and uncertainty.

You prop yourself up on your elbow to look at him. "I know so. You've been getting stronger with every race. The car's improving, and you're more comfortable with it. Plus, this is Silverstone - you know this track like the back of your hand."

He smiles, some of the tension leaving his face. "I do love this circuit."

"That's the spirit," you say, leaning in to kiss him softly. "Now get some sleep. You've got some racing to do in the morning."

The next day you watch from the garage, your heart swells with pride as Oscar delivers a perfect drive. As he crosses the finish line in P4, the garage erupts in cheers. It's his best result in Formula 1 to date, a performance that will silence any remaining doubters.

When he finally makes it back to the garage, helmet off and face beaming, you're there waiting. He sweeps you up in a hug, both of you laughing with joy.

"You did it!" you exclaim as he sets you down. "I told you you could do it!"

Oscar's eyes are shining with elation and pride. "We did it," he corrects you. "I couldn't have done this without your support."

September 24th, 2023. Japanese Grand Prix

You're perched on the edge of your couch, eyes glued to the TV screen, your heart racing as the lights go out at Suzuka. It's killing you not to be there in person, but work commitments had made the trip to Japan impossible.

Your mind flashes back to your conversation with Oscar yesterday after qualifying. His voice had been filled with excitement and a hint of disbelief as he told you about securing second place on the grid, right behind Max Verstappen.

"Can you believe it?" he had said, his words tumbling out in a rush. "P2! Right behind Max! I mean, I knew the car felt good, but this... this is incredible!"

You had matched his enthusiasm, your pride evident in your voice. "I told you you could do it! Just imagine what you could do in the race from there."

Now, as the race unfolds, you find yourself alternating between cheering out loud and holding your breath. When he crosses the finish line in third place, you leap off the couch, screaming in joy. His first podium and in just his 14th race.

You watch the podium ceremony with tears in your eyes, your heart swelling with pride as Oscar stands there, beaming, champagne in hand next to Max and Lando. It's a moment you've both dreamed about for so long.

It was killing you not to be there.

Hours pass, and you know Oscar must be caught up in team celebrations and media obligations. You're itching to talk to him, but you don't want to interrupt. Finally, just as you're considering going to bed, your phone rings.

"Hey, podium finisher," you answer, unable to keep the smile out of your voice.

"Hey yourself," Oscar replies, and you can hear the grin in his voice. "Sorry it took so long to call. It's been absolutely crazy here."

"Don't apologize! I'm just so incredibly proud of you, Oscar. You were amazing out there. Your first podium, it's a dream come true."

There's a moment of silence, and when Oscar speaks again, his voice is thick with emotion. "I just wish you could have been here. It doesn't feel quite complete without you."

"I know," you say softly. "I wish I could have been there too. But hey, this is just the first of many podiums, right? I'll be there for the next one."

"You bet it is," Oscar chuckles, "And you better be, I need someone to help me wash all this champagne out of my hair."

You laugh, feeling a mix of joy and longing. "I love you, Oscar. Enjoy your celebrations. You've earned it."

"I love you too," he replies warmly, "And I miss you, we have some celebration on our own to do."

October 8th, 2023. Qatar Grand Prix.

The heat in Qatar is suffocating, but the excitement in the air is even more intense. You're back in the paddock, determined not to miss another milestone in Oscar's career. Yesterday's sprint shootout had been a nail-biter, with Oscar securing pole position for the sprint race by mere hundredths of a second.

As the short-format race begins, you hold your breath. Oscar gets a perfect start, maintaining his lead into the first corner. As the final lap approaches, the McLaren garage is in shambles.

When Oscar crosses the finish line in first place, the explosion of joy is deafening. You're jumping up and down, tears streaming down your face as you watch him punch the air in triumph. He's done it - his first ever Formula 1 race win.

As Oscar pulls into parc fermé, you can see the emotion on his face even through his helmet. When he finally removes it, his smile is brighter than the Qatari sun. The team swarms him, and you hang back, letting him soak in this moment with the people who've worked so hard to make this possible.

When he finally breaks free and spots you, his face lights up even more. He rushes over, sweeping you into a tight embrace.

"You did it!" you exclaim, your voice muffled against his race suit. "Your first win, Oscar! I'm so proud of you!"

Oscar pulls back, his eyes shining with. "We did it," he corrects you, just as he did after Silverstone.

You laugh, wiping away happy tears. "Well this is just the beginning. Next stop, Grand Prix victory."

May 5, 2024. Miami Grand Prix.

The air in Oscar's driver's room is heavy with disappointment. You watch as he paces back and forth, still in his race suit, his face a mixture of frustration and barely contained anger.

The race had started so promisingly - Oscar had taken the lead early on and was driving beautifully. But then, a collision forced him into an unscheduled pit stop for a new front wing, dropping him down the order and out of contention for a podium finish.

"I had it," Oscar mutters, running a hand through his sweat-dampened hair. "I was leading the race, I had the pace. If it wasn't for that idiot..."

You step closer, your heart aching for him. "I know, baby. You were driving amazingly out there."

Oscar stops pacing and looks at you, his eyes filled with disappointment. "It's not fair. We've worked so hard, the car was perfect, and then..."

He trails off, shaking his head. You close the distance between you, gently taking his hands in yours. "Hey, look at me," you say softly.

Oscar meets your gaze, and you can see the vulnerability behind his frustration.

"You're right, it's not fair," you continue. "But that's racing sometimes. What matters is how you come back from this. And you will come back from this, stronger than ever."

"I just... I wanted this so badly."

You pull him into a hug, feeling him slowly relax against you. "I know. And your time will come, Oscar. This doesn't change how talented you are or how hard you've worked. It's just a bump in the road."

May 26th, 2024. Monaco Grand Prix.

The streets of Monaco buzz with anticipation for one the most important races in the Formula 1 calendar. For Oscar, this was his second time racing in Monaco, and the excitement was palpable.

From your spot in the McLaren hospitality suite, you had the perfect view of the circuit. Oscar thought you were back home, watching from the living room, but you couldn't miss this race. You wanted to see him shine on this iconic track.

You had coordinated with the team to keep your presence a surprise. As Oscar has his last quiet moments in his driver room before the preparations started, you sent him a quick text: "Good luck, love. Drive fast, be safe. I'll be cheering you on from home!"

Oscar's response was immediate. "Thanks, babe. I miss you. Wish you were here, but I'll bring home a trophy for you."

You smiled, knowing that he was in for a big surprise.

The race began, and Oscar quickly settled into a rhythm. He defended his P2 position until the checkered flag waved.

The team erupted in cheers, and you felt tears of joy streaming down your face. It was his third podium finish, and it was in Monaco of all places.

Oscar climbed out of his car, waving to the cheering crowd, his face glowing with joy and relief. As he stood on the podium, spraying champagne and celebrating with Charles and Carlos, you made your way down to the team area.

When the podium celebrations were over, and Oscar was heading back to the garage, you waited for the perfect moment. As he turned the corner, you stepped out, catching his eye.

"Oscar!" you called out, your voice carrying over the noise of the paddock.

He froze, his eyes widening in surprise. "What are you doing here?" he exclaimed, a huge grin spreading across his face as he rushed over to you.

"I couldn't miss this. I had to see you race in Monaco," you threw your arms around him, laughing.

Oscar hugged you tightly, lifting you off your feet. "You sneaky little... I can't believe you're here!"

"Congratulations, baby. You were incredible out there," you pulled back slightly, looking into his eyes.

"This... this is amazing. Thank you for being here. It means everything to me."

"I wouldn't have missed it for the world," you replied, kissing him softly.

July 7th, 2024. British Grand Prix

Oscar had been more motivated than ever. After finishing second the previous week in Austria, he was eager to claim his first Grand Prix victory, and what better place than Silverstone.

He started strong, fighting his way to the front and eventually taking the lead. The team was buzzing with excitement; victory seemed within reach.

But then, disaster struck. A poorly timed pit stop strategy caused Oscar to lose crucial positions. Despite his best efforts, he crossed the finish line in P4. It was his best finish at Silverstone but not the victory he had hoped for.

Later that day back at Oscar's apartment you watched him pace back and forth. He finally stopped and leaned against the window, staring out into the night. His shoulders were tense, and his jaw was set in frustration. The silence was deafening.

"What's on your mind?" you asked softly, breaking the silence.

Oscar didn't turn around. "I don't want to talk about it," he muttered.

You stood up and walked over to him, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. "I know you're upset. But sometimes talking helps."

He sighed deeply and turned to face you, his eyes filled with frustration and disappointment. "I was leading the race. I could have won. My first victory, right here at Silverstone. And it slipped away because of a stupid strategy call."

You reached out and took his hand, squeezing it reassuringly. "It wasn't your fault, Oscar. You drove an amazing race. Everyone saw how talented you are."

"But it doesn't change the fact that I could have won," he said, his voice cracking with frustration. "I've been waiting for this moment my whole life, and it was right there. And now... I don't know when I'll get another chance like this."

You pulled him into a tight hug, feeling his body tense before he finally relaxed against you. "Your time will come. I know it will. You've shown everyone what you're capable of, and there will be other races, other chances. This is just one race in a long career."

Oscar pulled back slightly, looking into your eyes. "I just wanted it so badly. To win here, in front of the home crowd... it would have meant everything."

"I know," you said softly. "And you'll get there. Maybe not today, but soon. And when you do, it'll be even sweeter because of everything you've gone through to get there."

July 21, 2024. Hungary Grand Prix

The Hungaroring buzzed with excitement as the cars lined up on the grid. Oscar, starting from the front row, felt a mixture of determination and nervous energy. As the lights went out, he got a perfect start, pulling away cleanly from the pack.

Lap after lap, Oscar maintained his lead. The team's excitement grew with each passing circuit. This could be it - his first Grand Prix victory.

However, as the race progressed, pit stop strategies began to shake up the order. After a particularly well-timed stop, Lando emerged just ahead of him. The tension in the McLaren garage was palpable.

Soon, team radio crackled to life. Reminding both drivers about strategies, and particularly asking Lando to give the position to Oscar, creating tension both on and off track.

In the final laps, Lando finally relented. He moved slightly wide in a corner, allowing Oscar to slip past. Oscar crossed the finish line first, claiming his maiden Grand Prix victory.

The team erupted in cheers, but the celebration felt somewhat muted. As Oscar climbed out of his car in parc fermé, his face was hard to read.

As you watched Oscar ascend the podium, your heart swelled with pride. Despite the complicated circumstances of his win, seeing him stand on the top step, the Australian national anthem playing in his honor, was a dream come true.

The champagne spray began, and you couldn't help but smile as Oscar, Lando, and Lewis doused each other in celebration. For a moment, the tension seemed to melt away as the three drivers laughed and enjoyed the moment.

As Oscar descended from the podium, his eyes immediately sought you out in the crowd. You managed to catch him just before he was whisked away for interviews.

"Congratulations, champ," you said, pulling him into a quick embrace.

Oscar hugged you tightly, his race suit still damp with champagne. "Thank you for being here," he murmured against your ear.

You pulled back, searching his face. "How are you feeling?"

A flicker of emotion crossed his features. "I'm not sure yet. I need to process everything."

"I understand," you nodded. "Go do your interviews. We'll talk properly later."

Oscar's eyes softened. He glanced around quickly, then leaned in and gave you a quick kiss. "Love you, see you after."

Hours later, after all the media obligations and team debriefs were over, Oscar finally made his way back to the McLaren hospitality area.

As he entered the room, his eyes immediately sought you out. You were there, beaming with pride, and the sight of you seemed to melt away some of his conflicted feelings.

"There's my champion," you said softly as he approached.

Oscar's face broke into a genuine smile, the first one since he'd crossed the finish line. He pulled you into a tight embrace, burying his face in your neck.

"I did it," he murmured against your skin. "I actually did it."

You pulled back slightly to look at him, cupping his face in your hands. "You did. And I am so incredibly proud of you, Oscar."

His eyes searched yours, vulnerability evident in his gaze. "It wasn't exactly how I imagined my first win would be," he admitted.

"I know," you nodded, understanding in your voice. "But that doesn't make it any less of an achievement. You drove brilliantly today, from start to finish."

"I just wish... I wish it had been a clean fight to the end, you know?" Oscar sighed, leaning his forehead against yours, "Without the team orders and all that."

"Hey," you said, making him meet your eyes again. "This is Formula 1. It's rarely ever straightforward. What matters is that you proved yourself out there today. You're a Grand Prix winner now, and no one can take that away from you."

A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "When did you get so wise?"

"Oh, I've always been wise. You're just finally starting to notice," you teased, earning a chuckle from him.

"Thank you," he said quietly. "For always being here, for believing in me even when things get complicated."

"Always," you promised, leaning in to kiss him softly.

The kiss deepened, both of you pouring your emotions into it - your pride and joy, his relief and love. When you finally parted, Oscar was smiling more brightly.

"So, Grand Prix winner," you grinned, "ready to go celebrate properly?"

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literaryvein-reblogs · 3 months ago

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a list of "beautiful" words used by Sylvia Plath

to try to include in your poem/story

Ardent - characterized by warmth of feeling typically expressed in eager zealous support or activity; fiery; glowing

Colossus - a statue of gigantic size and proportions; a person or thing of immense size or power

Defy - to confront with assured power of resistance; to challenge to do something considered impossible

Godhood - divinity

Infinitesimal - immeasurably or incalculably small

Longevity - a long duration of individual life; long continuance; permanence, durability

Malignity - an instance of malignant or malicious behavior or nature; malevolence

Mausoleum - a large tomb; a large gloomy building or room

Obscurity - the quality or state of being obscure (i.e., shrouded in or hidden by darkness; not readily understood or clearly expressed)

Omniscient - having infinite awareness, understanding, and insight

Pinnacle - an upright architectural member generally ending in a small spire and used especially in Gothic construction to give weight especially to a buttress; the highest point of development or achievement

Ponderous - unwieldy or clumsy because of weight and size; oppressively or unpleasantly dull

Tendrils - a leaves, stipules, or stems modified into slender spirally coiling sensitive organs serving to attach a climbing plant to their support

Uproot - to remove as if by pulling up; to pull up by the roots; to displace from a country or traditional habitat

Vacuous - emptied of or lacking content; marked by lack of ideas or intelligence

If any of these words make their way into your next poem/story, please tag me, or leave a link in the replies. I would love to read them!

More: Word Lists

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herpsandbirds · 15 hours ago

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i'm designing a character based on mythical salamanders and want to spice up their look a little bit, may we get some newts and salamanders with fun appearances or unique adaptation? the first ones to come to mind are things like sirens, olms, mudpuppies, ribbed newts, and giant salamanders, but i'd love to learn about some more funky amphibians!

Might I suggest some of the following salamanders...

Lesser Siren (Siren intermedia), family Sirenidae, found in freshwater habitats in the SE United States, lower midwest, and NW Mexico

This eel-like aquatic salamander retains its gills. They only have 2 tiny front limbs.

They grow to a length of up to 69 cm (27 in).

photographs by Thomas Reed & Qualiesin

Three-toed Amphiuma (Amphiuma tridactylum), family Amphiumidae, found in the SE United States

Amphiumas are large eel-like aquatic salamanders. The three-toed can grow up to 41 inches long. It has 4 tiny legs with 3 toes on each limb.

photograph by OpenCage.info

Red-tailed Knobby Newt aka Kweichow Crocodile Newt (Tylototriton kweichowensis), family Salamandridae, endemic to NE Yunnan, China

Poisonous.

Some species within this genus are capable of poking the tips of their ribs through the orange bumps on the back, which secrete poison. The ribs can effectively become venomous spines that can puncture the potential predator’s skin!

photograph by ZTH Photography

Jackson’s Climbing Salamander (Bolitoglossa jacksoni), family Plethodontidae, endemic to Guatemala

CRITICALLY ENDANGERED.

This species had not been seen since 1975, but was refound in 2017.

photographs by Carlos R. Vasquez-Almazan

Arboreal Salamander (Aneides lugubris), family Plethodontidae, Pinnacles National Park, California, USA

Arboreal, these salamanders have prehensile tails, and will use their limbs to glide or “parachute” from trees, if they need to.

They can deliver a nasty bite.

photographs by Gavin Emmons & Val Johnson

#salamander #amphibian #herpetology #animals #nature

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all-alone-he-turns-to-stone · 9 months ago

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The Most Innocent Sinner

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Summary: For everyone, she's the shy, pure, little Y/n. Dating Dean Winchester is like going on dates with the complete opposite of her. So it is a very nice surprise when Dean learns how kinky she actually is by finding her collection of sex toys.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Rating: 18+

Content warning: Sex toys, masturbation (male and female), dirty talk

Square filled: Dildos for @spnkinkevents / “Now that’s something you definitely shouldn’t try at home.” for @jacklesversebingo / masturbation for @anyfandomkinkbingo / “Unfortunately, I’m turned on by that.” for @anyfandomgoesbingo

A/n: Finding a title is so hard. I got stuck on this one for way too long. Big thanks to my friends that helped me!

From the outside, Y/n looked like a Saint. Cute, she wasn't very tall and almost sickly shy, and her social anxiety didn't help her case at all.

Since she didn’t have many friends, Y/n spent her time at the library surrounded by stories that made her forget how alone she felt. The characters on these yellowed sheets would never judge or criticize her, it was a comfort in which she really liked to immerse herself, especially after a hard day.

It was also where she met the Winchester brothers for the first time.

For someone like Y/n, the complete opposite of popular, invisible to people even when she was in the same room with them, the Winchesters were the pinnacle of perfection. Bodies built like gods, well-defined faces, piercing eyes, they gave off a strong and dominating aura that attracted the gaze of everyone in their path. And Y/n was no exception.

The moment the two brothers walked near her table at the library, there was no longer any need to read. Her book closed by itself in front of her, as she no longer held it open, her eyes fixedly stuck on the two men. Following their directions with her gaze, she turned her head, almost hurting her neck.

The colors around her suddenly seemed more vivid. The sounds, sweeter to the ear. She strained her ear to better listen to their conversations. And it was then that the stories she loved reading so much... Became reality.

Y/n had always had a habit of making herself fade away. Not wanting to attract attention, remaining discreet and making herself as small as possible. But the moment she saw them, it was like a light bulb went on inside her, and filled her with a life she had never really felt. And she decided to change that.

She didn’t want to hide anymore.

It was an adventure awaiting her, just like in her books. Filled with villains, monsters, but also angels, laughter, food and finally, a place where she belonged. It didn't take long for her to take part in their lives, quickly becoming a full member of their families. Although she wasn’t trained to be in the field hunting monsters, her lifelong experience of extensive reading was too vital and important to refuse her help.

Initially, Y/n was assigned to research. It was perfect for her, she could show them how efficient she was at this task so they would give her more to do eventually. Quickly, she climbed the ranks in the Winchesters' trust and became closer to them.

Everything about her personality was perfect to fit with Sam's. And yet, as the months stretched into years, she inevitably grew closer to Dean. Some will say that opposites flock together, and they are not wrong. Dean was the opposite of Y/n, stubborn, he didn't hesitate to say what was on his mind and loved seeing the adorable expression that invaded her face when he made inappropriate or worse, sexual comments. Immediately, Y/n would disappear from the room almost like magic, or she would become so embarrassed that he took pity and immediately changed the subject.

Y/n had a purity that Dean never had, and it was one of the reasons why even after all this time knowing her, he was still reluctant to let her come with them on hunts. Or even to involve her in anything that could endanger her or defile this purity. If he could keep her from losing that sparkle in her eyes, he would, no matter the cost.

After a few months of dating, Y/n finally agreed to live in the bunker with them. Dean helped her move in, putting her things in a room other than his, and although not sharing the same bed disappointed him a little, he understood why. She wasn't ready, and he insisted on her comfort. He was willing to wait for her as long as it took.

“If I had known you had that many boxes, I would have brought in extra hands,” Dean huffed, placing yet another heavy box on the ground. Straightening up, he raised his arms above his head to stretch his back.

“Sorry, all my books,” Y/n shrugged and lowered her head, embarrassed.

With a quick wave of his hand, Dean signaled that it was nothing. “It only takes a little longer but it’s no problem,” he quickly said to reassure her, so she wouldn’t feel bad about having so much stuff. After all this time knowing her, he knew how important her books were to her.

Her 500 books which weighed bricks to transport…

“I'll go get another box,” she accepted Dean's answer and as she passed him on her way out, left a quick kiss on the cheek. It was Dean's turn to react, his face quickly turning red.

“Okay, in the meantime, I'm going to start…” Glancing at the mountain of cardboard, Dean sighed again. “Cleaning a little…”

Sam wasn't there. Although he proposed his help for moving her stuff in, Dean's ego was more powerful. As a boyfriend, he had to take care of his girlfriend himself. Without help. Showing her that he was there for her, and that she would always be his priority.

Dean had been in several relationships in the past. And he loved each woman with all of his soul. But each time, his work, his family or the apocalypse had forced him to leave. It had been a very difficult task each time, but he had done it.

Just the thought of leaving Y/n had the same effect as losing a limb. It was unthinkable.

Ah shit. He was in love.

Him, in love?

It was the first time.

… Wait a minute.

He was in love with her.

This realization hit him harder than he expected. Dean took a few steps back, his head spinning quickly. He was in love. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. Never in his entire life had he felt this kind of thing for someone, feelings so strong, so true. When they were together, he felt so good, like he had finally found the thing he was missing. The person he needed.

Dean took another step back, and inevitably, his legs encountered a box. He lost his balance and, trying not to cause a landslide, had to hold himself against the nearest thing… Another box.

This one was strangely and unfortunately lighter than the others and failed to stop him from doing damage. Luckily, Dean kept his balance and avoided the embarrassment of falling on his butt, but the box fell to the ground.

“Son of a bitch,” he grumbled as he hurried to pick it up. As he took it, he noticed that it was not closed properly. It was definitely not his plan to go through Y/n's personal belongings, but when he opened the box to close it better, he couldn't help but see what was inside.

And it wasn't his fault. The first item on top was a box that displayed the inscription of its contents, and his curiosity, well… took care of the rest.

“What the…” taking the item in question, Dean examined it. His hunter's eye detected every detail, inscriptions, the wear on the cardboard and even the place where the packaging had once been sealed before opening. The sticky paper seemed to have been removed so quickly, the color of the cardboard remained stuck on it. It was exactly as if its owner, eager to have the object, hadn’t been concerned by the breakage of its packaging.

SO. It was still possible that the contents were not what was written in black and white on the packaging. It was still a possibility. Dean understood, it was his duty to get to the bottom of it once and for all. Otherwise, the question would haunt him for the rest of his life.

Heart racing for no good reason, Dean placed his fingers where the paper was torn off and pulled the tab. Then, breathless, he opened the box and peered inside.

“Son of a bitch,” his mouth breathed along with the last of his oxygen. No... he couldn't believe it. As if he needed further proof that his eyes had already given him, Dean reached into the box and pulled out the object.

It was still in its bag, but an opening proved its frequent use. Both soft and very hard, it was of regular size and of a pretty pink shade. Dean didn't need to take it out of the bag to know that underneath was the little hole to get charged, the wire still in the box.

In his hand, Dean held the thing he never thought he would hold… Let alone find among his girlfriend's stuff. The sweet, pure, shy Y/n.

Scared that she would come back and see him like this, Dean quickly put the pink dildo vibrator back in its box. A thousand questions swirled through his mind and his heart still hadn't stopped pounding in his ribcage. In his eagerness and nervousness, Dean almost dropped the box, so he had to pull himself together to put it back exactly where he had found it.

And that was when he saw them.

There were plenty of them. A dozen even. Some had their original packaging, others had boxes without inscription. Curiosity rose in Dean who forgot the presence of his girlfriend and owner of these toys in the bunker. It was like suddenly he was alone in the world as he began to pull out everything he had in front of his eyes, his pupils dilating with each new discovery.

Small portable vibrator. One that looked like a butterfly, insertable and vibrant. A… dolphin? A flesh-colored dildo, including ball and base with suction. A magic staff. Purple, pink, black, the colors were added one after the other. And then suddenly...

Dean came across the largest box.

It was curiously and surprisingly big for what was inside. Dean couldn't help it. It was heavy, there was no doubt about the contents, but he had to see it with his eyes, hold it in his hands, and absorb reality.

It couldn't be that big... right?

And oh my god.

“Now that’s something you definitely shouldn’t try at home…”

Examining it from every angle, he still couldn't understand. The words “bad dragon” were forever imprinted in his brain along with the image of that purple and blue hued dildo. It was imposing, as tall as it was wide, and the different textures were strange but pleasant to the touch. And inevitably, his brain went in that perverse direction he imagined...

Her moans filled the room and the echo was carried throughout the whole bunker. Sounds of pleasure? No. Of frustration. She moaned as she tried as best she could to get the dildo into her entrance, which was still too tight for such a monster. But her determination only grew with her goal, and the idea alone of being able to have all those inches inside her was so exciting that she almost didn't need any lube.

“Oh fuck,” breathed through her lips as the head of the toy finally pierced the breach. Her head tilting back, she wiggled on the dildo to widen her entrance to accommodate the rest. Kneeling over the toy made it easier for her to maneuver her body and part her lips for guidance. And when finally the dildo was inside her, a long sigh of relief mixed with the pleasure of having succeeded hissed between her lips.

“I love the view…”

Dean hadn't missed a single thing. Standing in the doorway, he watched, admired, and nourished himself with the magnificent view before him. Kneeling on the bed facing him, she knew he was there. Even though her eyes were closed, she felt his presence, heard his heavy breathing. And then there was the rustling of his clothes every time he adjusted his position or reached for his swollen crotch.

It was one of the hottest things she had ever experienced. The desire was so strong it was palpable. The smell of sex filled the room. A moan passed her lips as she opened her eyes to look at him, her breath leaving her lungs, making the air almost unbreathable because it was so saturated.

"Oh. No."

The sound of a heavy object hitting the ground brought him back to consciousness. Then it took him several seconds to realize the voice that had spoken just before the impact, what it had said and who it belonged to. Turning towards the door, Dean's eyes were wide open, the green almost disappearing from his irises because his pupils were so dilated.

Her face was not in any better condition. As her eyes, wide with fear and shame, moved between what he was holding and the box behind him and finally settling on him, Dean could see the embarrassment quickly filling her being.

“What is this?”

Still shocked by his discovery and what it implied, these words were the first and only ones that had managed to escape his lips. Obviously, he knew what it was, and what it was for. However, he needed to hear it from her mouth. To confirm what his eyes had already understood.

His question only made her more uncomfortable.

“You weren’t supposed to see that,” she muttered under her breath, lowering her head and crossing the distance between them to grab the dildo and remove it from the hunter’s hands. All this to hide the evidence that had already been consumed, unfortunately. “Please, forget about it,” she pleaded, still refusing to meet his gaze. Her hand resting next to Dean's on the dildo, she tried to take it back, but was surprised to see that he didn't want to let it go. “Dean?”

“It’s impossible,” his voice was low, almost a breath lost in the tension of the air. “Unfortunately… I’m turned on by that. And here I thought you were all pure and shy…” Taking a pause in his words only made the state Y/n was in worse. Next to Dean, she felt his breath against her cheek, and the heat of his body. It was heavy, his chest moving in time with his harsh breathing. As if he had to do everything to hold back. “I waited for you to be ready, and I'll still wait but… Y/n…” As she still refused to raise her head and meet his gaze, Dean took his other hand, the one that wasn't holding the dildo, to gently lift Y/n’s chin. “Thinking about you touching yourself with that… oh fuck, it’s hot, sweetheart.”

“Yeah?” A shy smile appeared on her lips, her eyes watering at how she was embarrassed but still... Very excited by this idea.

“Oh yeah,” Dean swallowed, his green eyes darting from Y/n's lips to her eyes, then back to her lips. Like two magnets held too far apart, but at the same time too close, it was inevitable.

Dean pressed his mouth to Y/n’s, kissing her forcefully. The dildo was quickly put aside, both needing their hands to touch the other. Dean placed his on Y/n's waist, and her around his neck. Her nails scratched the soft part of his neck, leaving red marks he would never see. It was intense, they almost devoured each other with an insatiable appetite. Opening her lips, Y/n stuck her tongue out barely, just enough to give access to Dean who was quick to push his tongue into her mouth. The kiss became languorous, messy, even, and Y/n backed into a box and almost fell. Dean broke the kiss to ask if she was okay, but she silenced him by replacing her lips on his to continue the kiss.

Their mouths didn't leave each other as clothes flew around the room, some getting stuck on boxes while others fell to the floor. Eventually, they managed to maneuver through the mountains of boxes to get to the bed. Y/n plopped down on the mattress and laughed against Dean’s mouth which only took a second to find its way back to hers. Now both were shirtless and their hands explored each other without stopping.

Finally, Y/n broke the kiss to speak.

“I want you to watch me.”

“What?” Dean was panting, his erection so painful in his pants he was afraid it would explode at the slightest touch. Like a hungry lion demanding its prey, he tried to grab Y/n's lips but she refused him access by placing her fingers between them.

“I want you to watch me use the toy…” If she was an angel a few moments ago, the Y/n he had, lying under him on the bed, half naked, was a little devil hidden under the appearance of a Saint.

Just the thought of seeing her in real life masturbating with the monster he had found made Dean gulp and push himself up so he was on his knees. His face was so red, he had trouble understanding how there could still be blood in his length.

“Are you sure? I mean, I… I can’t say no to that, fuck, but… I don’t want you to feel forced or…”

“Dean,” she interrupted, a smile tugging at her lips. “I really want to. And I know you want it too.” Y/n took a deep, slightly shaky breath before continuing. “So… Bring me the one you want me to use… And get comfortable.”

Dean swallowed and looked at his girlfriend's face. Since he had known her, they had never been this far in their intimacy. And he would never have imagined that she had this in her. Obviously he was surprised, but it was a very pleasant surprise. Like an excited child on Christmas morning, Dean rushed to the box of adult toys and once again admired all the choices presented to him. Each of them infused an image, each more erotic than the other, into his mind. For a moment, he hesitated to take the monster he had found shortly before, but decided that for now, this view was better in his mind. And he didn't want to embarrass Y/n even more than she was, what she was proposing was very intimate, very sexy, but also terribly hard to do. To open up like this, to show yourself like this...

Dean returned to his girlfriend, a box in hand. “This one,” he held out the box, knowing full well what it contained. Y/n took it, hesitated for a few seconds while staring at it in her hands. Just as Dean was about to repeat that she didn't have to, that they could continue to just makeout and that was okay, she opened the box and took out the toy.

It was a simple one. No vibration, just a flesh colored dildo with suction at the bottom. It wasn’t the biggest she owned, but it was still big, almost as big as Dean’s cock. So to see her use this, he could easily picture him in her…

Just the thought sent another wave of arousal down his pants.

“Do you need a moment, or lube or…” Dean was still standing up near the bed as she was on her knees on the mattress. For the first time, he was clueless and didn't know what to do. And yet, it was not his first time, nor the last, that he had more kinky moments with his partner. But Y/n was different, she wasn't just his sexual partner, but the woman he loved. And the prospect of getting even closer and more intimate was worth more than any sex he could have.

“I want you to watch the whole thing,” Y/n replied, lifting her ass off the mattress just enough to undo her pants and pull them down along with her panties with just one hand. In an almost expert manner, she finished undressing herself with one hand, her other never letting go of the toy. “You can sit down, you know,” she laughed when she saw Dean still standing where he was, stiff as a stick.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” he sat on the edge of the bed and turned his body towards her. It was like he was back at 15 with the most popular girl in school, ready for his first time. Nervousness filled his entire being, along with excitement, and if he wasn't so experienced years later, his erection would have disappeared or he would have come prematurely in his pants.

Dean silently thanked all the girls he had in the past that strengthened his stamina.

“How do you want me to use it?”

Dean could see how nervous she was. It was the first time she was completely naked in front of him, and her body was shaking ever so slightly, shivers that covered her soft skin in goosebumps. But yet, through that nervousness, she was freaking sexy. Still kneeling, she was slowly stroking her intimacy with the toy, coating it with her wetness. And without asking, Dean knew she wouldn’t need any lube.

“Just… Like this, you can ride it…” The words got out of his mouth by automatism. Truth was, Dean was half there now, so excited and focused on her, a part of his mind was shut down. It was so hot, he couldn’t detach his eyes from her body, the way the toy rubbed through her lower lips, how her hips rocked back on it, and her face, so soft, so cute, so embarrassed… With eyes burning in a strong passion.

“Okay,” she whispered. Time seemed to slow down. Dean could feel his heart beating in his head and in his crotch, the intensity growing with each movement she made. Straightening up, she placed the dildo behind her, careful to align it with her entrance, and opened up her legs to let Dean continue watching.

And he could see it all.

It was better than everything he could ever imagine.

The toy was big, but she was probably very wet and very used to it, because it didn’t take long for her to lower down on it. Inch by inch, the dildo disappeared into her entrance until it was almost completely gone. Her body was bent back, her chest glistening with sweat and the cutest moan left her lips.

“Fuck,” Dean groaned. It was too much, so he rushed to open his pants, just enough to free his aching cock. The simple touch sent thousands of electrical shocks of pleasure through his body, but still, his eyes were fixed on her. “You’re so hot, I don’t think I’ll last long,” he held the base of his cock stronger to avoid his climax.

“I don’t think I’ll last long either,” she whimpered. She had started moving already, slowly, up and down on the toy. Since she was on the bed, the succion was useless and she had to hold it with one hand. Dean could see how wet she was on the dildo, and imagined how warm it had to be inside.

Another groan whistled through his teeth.

“Hmmm,” she moaned, picking up speed. “It feels so good… Dean… Look at me…”

He didn’t notice, but his gaze was so focused on the toy and her pussy, he didn’t even look at her face. Blinking hard, he looked up, and when he saw her face, twisted in pleasure, he couldn’t help it.

His hand started moving on his cock at the same rhythm as her.

“Can’t wait to be inside of you,” Dean muttered through his rashing breath. “Must feel so warm in there, and you’re so wet, fuck, sweetheart, you’re killing me.”

As an answer, she moaned and closed her eyes for a second. But quickly, she set her gaze on him again, even if it had to be the most embarrassing thing she ever did. She wanted to watch him watch her, watch him stroke his cock, watch him cum with her. “Soon… I promise, soon, you’ll have me, you’ll fuck me as much as you want, whenever you want… I'm ah... All yours, Dean..."

"Y/n." Dean could only say that. Again and again, moaning her name as she continued moving on the toy. "Y/n..."

"Dean, I’m gonna cum, oh my god, I’m…”

It was stronger than her. Never before did she come with only a dildo in her, it always took her hands or a vibrator on her clit to reach the end. But right now, in front of her boyfriend masturbating with her, it was too much. It felt so good.

In an explosion of pleasure, her orgasm ripped through her in a scream. She closed her eyes, her body shaking, her wetness flooding under her and on her bed. But she so didn’t care about this right now.

It took a few moments for her to regain her hearing back, and a few more moments to open her eyes. It was strong, and she suddenly felt so tired, like the world came crashing back on her. Feeling like she could sleep for a whole day without waking up.

Y/n landed her eyes on the man in front of her. Dean had his head bent back, eyes closed, mouth parted. Lower, his cock was still a bit hard, and his release was covering his hand.

“Oh,” she said sadly, realizing she didn’t see him cum. At least, they came together.

“Oh,” Dean repeated, finally opening his eyes to land them on her. “That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen and done,” he admitted, a silly smile filling up his face. So he was too, drunk on pleasure.

“Yeah,” she admitted, feeling her face flush with embarrassment. Wow. They did it. They actually did it. Her joy, thought, left her face quickly as she realized something. “Fuck.”

“What is it?” Dean immediately went on protective boyfriend mode when he heard the change in her voice.

“I think I…” Y/n’s voice was small, so small and shy as she lifted herself from the spot she was in, removing carefully the dildo from her, and looked at the mess she made. “It never happened before, but now my bed… I don’t think I can use it anymore… Oh no…”

“Sweetheart,” Dean rushed to her side, quickly putting himself back in his pants even if he was messy with his release as well. “It’s alright. There’s plenty of other room in the bunker, with other beds.”

“But,” she stammered, her gaze looking down at her hands. “What if I want to… Use your bed, with you?”

Y/n ended up looking up at him, their gaze meeting.

A soft kiss on her lips answered her question, and all of her insecurities washed away.

“My bed is yours, sweetheart. We can always use this room for your books, I’ll ask Sam to help building shelves and-”

Another kiss, this time, more powerful, interrupted his sentence. “God, I love you so much.”

Babum.

The words he never said back before.

Dean thought they would be hard to say. Impossible, even. But he surprised himself with how easy it actually was.

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

Forever taglist: @nitnat6245 @eevvvaa @wickedinspirations@fictional-affairs @awkward-and-indecisive @peachyaliien @katbratsupernaturalwhore

Supernatural Tag List: @peachyaliien @sexyvixen7 @stixnstripesworld @charred-angelwings @treat-winchesterswith-kindness @lyarr24 @fiftyshadesgrl @this-is-me19

Dean Winchester Tag List: @akshi8278 @kazsrm67 @wtrpxrks @deanwanddamons @thoughts-and-funnies @charred-angelwings @jensendreamland @deanswaywardgirl @happyt0exist @waynes-multiverse @djs8891 @mimaria420 @this-is-me1 @syrma-sensei

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stelly38 · 2 months ago

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Photos from The Times Magazine article by Caitlin Moran. Photographer Robert Wilson.

Jesus christ, he just gets hotter and hotter as he climbs toward the pinnacle of Daddyness. I thought we'd reached it with Fifteen Love, but nope.

#aidan turner #david tennant #alex hassell #jilly cooper #rivals #period drama

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astrogre · 11 months ago

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What gifts to buy for each Venus sign

Christmas is among us, my favourite season and time of the year. Venus is the planet of love, by nature it can display what we like to receive from others but if you don’t know their Venus or the house it’s in you can try to look at the persons Sun sign instead but Venus is ideal.

A gift based on their:

Sun sign will make them feel seen and like you know them well, it will be a gift they may appreciate

Venus sign is all they’ve ever desired it’s the pinnacle of their ideal gift. Especially as Venus represents how we like to receive and experience love

Aries/ 1H Venus

Gym membership, running shoes, thrill seeking experiences like tickets to bungee jumping, rock climbing, a skydiving event, gym outfit, tickets to their favourite artist, tickets to festival, cool lighter, archery classes, tickets to sports games, a shirt with their teams logo or merch from their favourite artists, scissors set, cooking tools, hair styling products like hairspray, hair dye, Fitbit/apple watch, knives set, sports gear, heavy bass headphones, tickets for those room smashing experiences, take them clay pigeon shooting, family destroying board games like Risk or Catan, diy tattoo kit, diy piercing kit, theme park tickets.

Aries Venus are by nature thrill seekers, Aries is ruled by the head and has 1st house influences, they can certainly appreciate something that ignites passion, they are impulsive and quick by nature to pursue what they desire. They need gifts that match their decisive nature and to let out that pent up energy they have in them, I honestly think experiences are the best for them. Or a box of hair dye for their impulsive moments

Taurus/ 2H Venus

Hire a chef or take them to a really good restaurant for a 5 course meal that serves orgasmic food and has impeccable visuals/atmosphere OR you can even arrange a 7 course homemade meal with the finest of recipes! , fine jewellery adorned with a gemstone, culinary experiences, cooking classes, kitchenware, go to fragrantica.com and find a high quality perfume to give, premium home decor, art, antique items, antique furniture, comfortable cosy clothing, hot water bottle, gardening tools, plants, selection of seeds for their garden, diffuser, essential oils, desserts like baklava/ferro rocher, luxury goods, wellness retreat subscription, day at the spa, tea set, comfy velvet winter pillows and bed sheets

Oh my Taurus natives, they know how to break a bank for Christmas and if not they can enjoy luxury on a budget! They enjoy the finer things of life of course Venus ruled, they know how to induge in pleasures and satisfaction. Due to the earthy influence they have a green finger and a natural affinity with plants and gardening, they may love flowers or want to grow plants themselves. Taurus venuses are rather easy to gift, if you know them they usually have a vice, it may be sleep, food or pure laziness, get them something according to their vice and they will treasure it.

Gemini/ 3H Venus

Really cool stationary, Spotify subscription, comedy show tickets, books from their favourite genre, a notebook, Grammarly subscription, cards against humanity board game, Duolingo subscription, multiplayer games, home kit recording studio, language learning stuff, calligraphy classes, kindle, portable car charger, Bluetooth speaker, karaoke machine, suitcase, travel accessories, a musical instrument, sealing wax kit, creative hobby supplies, microphone, podcasting equipment, audio editing software, a car, vr headset, Nintendo online subscription, Netflix/HBO/youtube/crunchyroll subscription

Gemini rules communication, short journeys and social engagement. Blessing these natives with tools to enhance their pleasant hobbies will make them swoon in gratitude, if you want to get them something make it engaging and whimsical. These natives are ruled by mercury and always welcome something that requires the mind.

Cancer/ 4H Venus

A cooking set, baking set, comfort food, commission artwork of the family, family photos, some really nice home decor, a keepsake/musical box adorned with velvets and soft materials that will store sentimental objects, a locket necklace, family recipe book make a recipe book of all their favourite foods and some foods you know they’d like, soft fluffy blanket, the family heirloom, hand crafted quilt, hand painted ceramic mug, animal crossing game, sims 4 game, games relating to the home, bring and fly in family that are far away as a surprise and cook their favourite meal together, household utilities, lush bath products, a personal chef for a day, a personal butler for a day, custom family tree art, ancestry DNA kit (please be careful though once you use them they keep your data and if they get hacked your information is out there), home movie night, comfy slippers and pyjamas, family board games, this christmas make them Christmas dinner this time.

Cancer rules the home and there’s nothing more appreciated by a cancer Venus than things that remind them of this. They are by nature expressive and nurturing, this time let them be pampered!

Leo/ 5H Venus

Hair care products, gift card for their favorite store, make them an edit no joke like a TikTok edit that makes them look really cool, one of those light up mirrors or a pretty handheld one if they don’t have one already, book them a photoshoot together if they don’t like the camera maybe post them on your social media and show affection for these bold natives, theatre tickets, bold sunglasses, luxury watch, good jewellery, VIP experiences like backstage passes or reservation to exclusive invite only restaurants, designer clothing that is a prestigious brand they love, commission style artwork, make them a playlist of songs that reminds you of them, fine wine, personalised fragrance creation that allows them to create their own signature fragrance, personalised makeup makeover, hire a stylist for them

A perfect gift for Leo’s need to have an element of self expression, luxury and incorporate their personality that garners attention from peers. They need a gift that makes them feel special, something tailored specifically for them that cannot be gifted to anyone else. Personalised gifts do well either this placement too. When I think of these natives I just think of that Meghan Trainor music video “Me Too” watch that and you’ll get their vibe.

Virgo/ 6H Venus

Skincare products, a blender for smoothies, lots of cleaning products, multi purpose aesthetic storage containers, Quora or chat gpt subscription (these guys like to be well informed), give them scientifically researched bath products that have all that vitamin breakdown qualities, make them a notion template to help them plan, quality office supplies like a desk organiser or chair, practical fitness gear like a yoga mat, a fitness tracker, get them a personal nutritionist, tailored meal prep services, bookshelf organiser system, a stylish briefcase, home office makeover (BUT PLEASE GET THEIR PERMISSION FIRST), online course subscription, digital subscription to news feed, you can never go wrong with practical things, an ikea haul, Costco membership, minimalist decor, multi vitamins, a precision watch, set of labelling and sorting tools, a neat tidy chess board, get them a nice little pet, honestly for some reason whenever I think of Virgos I think of matcha. Get them something matcha based.

Virgo Venus natives need gifts that resemble their routine and organisation, they can be rather difficult to purchase for since they have such a specific taste in mind. Gift cards are practical for them but they really need something that allows them to be more prepared. Take them out for comparison price shopping like say if you want to get them a sofa tell them you’ll take them out to Costco, Amazon, ikea, and compare the best ones. They are also very clean and efficient.

Libra Venus/ 7H Venus

Trending Make up like the fenty hot chocolit heat lip gloss, Korean skincare products, beautiful piece of art, a wedding ring 😏, bouquet of flowers, take them to a beautiful botanical garden, fashionable accessories like a silk scarf, books and courses on design, take them to a couples romantic date, a couples workshop, write them a love letter, museum date, tickets to an art exhibition, fine dining, an astrology synastry reading, if they’re single set up a blind date with someone who you KNOW they would like (make sure they’re handsome/pretty), couples retreat, love coach Patreon subscription, pottery/painting classes, relationship podcast subscription, relationship psychology books, fine fragrance/cologne

Libra is ruled by Venus and 7th house, all things related to love beauty and pleasure align with this native, even if they are single they have a natural gift for delving into relationships. Make sure that whatever gift you give them it is pleasing and sensual

Scorpio/ 8H Venus

Intimate gifts, a psychological crime documentary playlist like Epstein island documentary or YouTubers who speak of renowned cult leaders, personalised astrology reading, a dark seductive fragrance, dark artwork, dominance and submission guide book, shadow work journal with a lock on it, dark poetry and literature, escape room adventure tickets, monopoly game, dungeons and dragons game equipment, bdsm accessories, personalised erotic art, leather/latex clothing, bonding activities, empowering books like 48 Laws of Power, martial arts training, taxidermy, personal development workshops, intense workout equipment like a punching bag, chess, daggers, locks on their door or for their belongings like installing a lock for their drawers, buy them a ring camera and subscription, wine tasting experience

Give them something sultry and deep, it has to be psychological and empowering. They are not impressed by superficial gifts that mean nothing to them. They really like gifts that allow them to explore their nature and the darker aspects of existence.

Sagittarius/ 9H Venus

A scratch off map that allows you to scratch off countries you’ve been to, a surprise holiday where you take them abroad, Duolingo subscription, a wanderlust journal for them to document their experiences, passport accessories, an electric guitar, drums, take them to a fireworks display or do one at home for them, a telescope, a drone, binoculars, philosophical books or religious books based on their own beliefs and religion, running shoes, horse riding in the sunset experience, musical instruments, motivational and positive affirmations book or make some for them yourself, a book collection of all their motivational and positive messages they have said, a compass, pay for their tuition for a course they’ve always wanted, traveling stuff like suitcases, pillow for travelling, a portable flask, a disposable camera, a Polaroid camera, a tent, tickets to a cultural festival, hiking gear, skiing gear, camping gear, sketchbook, a donation in their name

Sagittarius Venus and 9H venuses love the concept of exploration whether it be in the mind or physically, the best gift you could give them is one that allows them to take in so much culture, information and experiences.

Capricorn/ 10H Venus

Customisable credit card (CUCU is a good site for this), a nice power suit like business attire, vintage pocket calculator, cufflinks or a tie, formal shoes, pay for their CV to be analysed by professionals in their industry, elegant timeless clothing and jewellery, make them business cards, get them a corporate slave (an assistant will do), pay for business class flights for their next trip abroad, project management courses, tickets to Ted Talk event, take them to and big them up at networking and entrepreneurial opportunities, a sleek desk, submit their work for trophies and awards, quality furniture, Starbucks or their fave coffee place gift cards, a fountain pen, personalised desk name plate, professional photoshoot, designer accessories like a Swiss watch, leather wallet, cheque book, pay for a professional calligrapher to design their signature, time management software

Our sweet cap Venuses and 10Hers need their professional acknowledgment, give them anything timeless and a way for them to better themselves. They love being the best of the best so give them things that support their ambitions.

Aquarius/ 11H Venus

A 3D printer, high tech phone, a gamer console, smart home device like Alexa, chat gpt subscription, AI art pieces of them, rubix cube, VR headset, bespoke one of a kind art piece, tickets to a science technology conference or musem, networking events, phone case, futuristic home decor, membership to an niche club their interested in, mini indoor garden like a plant terrarium, pay for an astronomy stargazing experience for them, alt clothing, goal setting journal, a camaraderie for their friendships can be a bracelet for an example, tickets to a unique workshop according to their niche interests, video editing software, a unique invention prototype for the industry their interested in say if it were cars then a mini Tesla or something, volunteer together, design software, film festival tickets, social cause merchandise, unique fashion piece, astronomy kit, an AI boyfriend or girlfriend, take them a Ted talk.

Always remember the specific niche interests of these natives they like things that are very niche and so sometimes asking them is actually the best thing to do. But make sure it’s something they’re passionate about not all of these natives live tech but they certainly are innovative.

Pisces/ 12H Venus

Seashell necklace, watercolour paints, fantasy book collection, their favourite mangas, handmade artwork, stained glass window art, dream interpretation book, flowerpedia book, vinyls, yoga mat, contact lenses, tickets to their favourite artist like mitski or the sort, create a playlist for them that’s about fantasy and imagination, they might like Disney consider taking them to Disneyland, windchime, subscription to mindfulness app, astrology book, go to the aquarium together, windchimes, art supplies, a dream journal, sound healing instruments, pay for their spiritual retreat, zen garden decor, a mystical music box, water fountain, take them to a mesmerising body of water, prayer mats, diary, write them a heartfelt letter of how amazing they are, take them to a nature retreat, wearable art

Dreamy imaginative gifts would be perfect for these people, they need gifts that allow them to appreciate their escape world where they have a reality that’s just better than here. Give them things that are as beautiful as their inner world.

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wildernessjournals · 2 years ago

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The jagged Pinnacles ridge blends with Gemini Peak, top right. John Muir Wilderness, Sierra Nevada Mountains, California, USA. Photo by Van Miller

#pinnacles lakes basin #Gemini Peak #john muir wilderness #Sierra Nevada Mountains #california #©Van Miller #hiking #backpacking #mountains #mountain climbing #camping #Wilderness #travel #photography #geology #Wanderlust

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valkyriexo · 7 months ago

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You have a Migraine | Seungmin

ᑉ³pairing; Seungmin x Reader

ᑉ³genre; Sickfic, Comfort, Fluff

ᑉ³warnings; Reader dealing with a migraine, Pills mentioned

ᑉ³Authors Note; Other members coming soon! Edited.

The morning light filters through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room as you lie in bed, cocooned in blankets. But despite the peaceful scene outside your window, there's no rest to be found within the confines of your own mind.

Your temples throb with a relentless intensity, each pulse sending shockwaves of pain through your skull. Migraine days are the worst, and today seems determined to be the pinnacle of that agony.

You try to ignore the pounding in your head, focusing instead on the rhythmic ticking of the clock on your bedside table. But even the steady beat seems to mock you, a reminder of the passing minutes that only serve to prolong your suffering.

With a heavy sigh, you reach out for the bottle of painkillers that has become a permanent fixture in your life. You're all too familiar with the ritual of opening its childproof cap, but today, as you twist it off, your heart sinks.

The bottle is empty.

With a groan, you try to summon the strength to get out of bed, but the pain pins you down like an anchor. Frustration, thick and palpable, mixes with the pain, creating a cocktail of misery that threatens to engulf you entirely. Each attempt to rise is met with a wave of nausea, a cruel reminder of the physical toll this puts on you. The room spins, a dizzying carousel of sensations that leaves you disoriented and defeated.

You clench your teeth, willing yourself to push through the fog of agony that clouds your mind.

Every muscle in your body protests as you attempt to sit up, each movement sending shockwaves of pain radiating outward from the epicenter in your head.

With a final, desperate effort, you manage to swing your legs over the edge of the bed, your feet meeting the cold, unforgiving floor below. But even this small victory feels hollow, overshadowed by the relentless drumbeat of pain that reverberates through you.

You close your eyes against the harsh glare of the morning light. But even in the darkness behind your eyelids, the pain persists.

You can't bring yourself to stand, the pain worsening with each passing moment. Doubts gnaw at the edges of your consciousness. Were there even any pills left in the medicine cabinet?

The thought of standing seems utterly futile, a mountain too steep to climb in your current state.

Your mind races, searching desperately for a solution amid the fog of agony. There's only one thing you can think to do. With trembling fingers, you reach for your phone, wincing at the harsh light it emits as you unlock the screen and dial Seungmin's number.

Each ring feels like an eternity, each passing second an eternity of suffering. But then, finally, his voice breaks through the haze of pain.

"Hello?" His voice is filled with concern.

"Seungmin," you manage to choke out, your voice barely more than a whisper. "It's... it's bad. I need... help."

There's a pause on the other end of the line, a heartbeat of uncertainty before Seungmin's reassuring voice fills your ears once more. "I'm on my way," he says, his words a promise of relief.

As you wait for Seungmin's arrival, time seems to stretch into eternity, each moment punctuated by the relentless throbbing in your temples. The minutes drag on, each one feeling like an eternity as you struggle to hold onto a semblance of composure amidst the storm of pain.

Finally, just when you're beginning to fear that he might not come, there's a soft knock on the door. You struggle to open your eyes, squinting against the harsh light filtering through the curtains. "Come in," you manage to croak out.

It swings open to reveal Seungmin standing on the other side. His eyes widen in concern as he takes in your disheveled appearance, and without a word, he steps forward to wrap you in a gentle embrace.

"I'm here," he murmurs softly, his voice a soothing balm against the raw edges of your pain. "Everything's going to be okay."

"It hurts so much, Minnie," you say, tears escaping despite your efforts to hold them back.

"I know, I know," he replies, his voice laced with empathy, his eyes reflecting the depth of his concern.

His eyes scan the room, searching for any way to alleviate your suffering. Spotting the dimmer switch, he stands silently. With a flick of his wrist, he adjusts the lighting, the soft glow casting shadows that offer a respite from the harsh brightness.

Not content with just that, he strides over to the window, pulling the curtains closed carefully. Each movement is precise, deliberate, as he ensures not a single ray of light infiltrates the room. The darkness that envelops you feels like a sanctuary, shielding you from the pain.

As he returns to your side, you feel a sense of gratitude wash over you, a warmth that eases the chill of pain.

"Better?" he asks, his voice gentle as he takes a seat beside you on the bed, resuming his previous position.

You nod gratefully, the gesture feeling like too much effort.

Seungmin reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small bottle of pills. He had remembered your preferred medication, and he always keep it on hand, whether in the dorms or car. With a reassuring smile, he hands you a couple of pills along with a bottle of water from your nightstand.

After a few moments of silence, the medication starts to work its magic, gradually easing the relentless ache in your head.

"I'm sorry," you say softly, breaking the silence that envelops the room.

Seungmin turns to you, his brow furrowing in confusion. "What for?"

"I know you're not really big on physical touch," you explain, your voice tinged with regret. "I'm sorry I bothered you with all this."

His expression softens, and he reaches out to gently squeeze your hand. "Hey, don't apologize. I'm here because I want to be. Helping you through this is the least I can do."

As he spoke, your head pinged with pain, every word feeling like a hammer striking against your skull. You wince, from the noise, the throbbing in your temples growing more intense with each syllable.

"I know noise tends to be painful when this happens, and I just want to let you know that I'm okay with sitting in silence, as long as you're comfortable," Seungmin says quietly.

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, both from the pain and from the overwhelming kindness of his words. Despite the agony you're enduring, he remains by your side, offering his own version of comfort.

Seungmin's touch is gentle as he runs his fingers through your hair, his movements soothing against your scalp. His fingertips tracing delicate patterns across your skin as if trying to soothe away the pain with each caress. His kisses are soft and fleeting, pressed gently against your forehead and temples, a gesture of comfort and affection in the midst of your suffering.

"Thank you," you manage to murmur, your voice barely more than a whisper. "I'm sorry for the inconvenience."

He shakes his head, his expression gentle and reassuring. "Stop apologizing. Just rest."

With a nod, you lean back against him and the pillows, finding solace in the silence that descends upon the room. At that moment, despite the pain, you feel a sense of peace wash over you, knowing that whatever happens, you will always have him by your side.

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seravphs · 1 year ago

Text

lazybones

wc — 2k

tags — 18+ only, fem dom, sub gojo, riding

Have you been too hard on Gojo lately?

You peek at him from the corner of your eyes. He’s next to you on the couch, freshly back from a mission. Even though he’s just sitting there, he’s being annoying again. It’s his presence, the general lack of respect that exudes from him. You clench your teeth against the urge to scold him.

Playing teacher is a leftover habit from your school days. Yaga couldn’t control him, so you took it upon yourself. It took a lot of trial and error to figure out what made Gojo obedient. Taming the strongest is a delicate balancing act, never giving him too much of the carrot or the stick - right now, you might be teetering too much on the side of punishment. How long has it been since you gave him a reward?

Gojo might be irritating, but he’s still deserving of respect as the pinnacle of Jujutsu society. He works hard, even if he doesn’t show it.

You glance over at him again. He’s never injured when he comes back from missions, but sometimes there’s another problem he has to take care of. Since you first checked on his condition five minutes ago you've been waiting for him to ask for help or deal with it alone, but the visible bulge in his pants hasn’t gone away. The five minutes you gave him clearly wasn’t enough.

You glance meaningfully between his thighs. “Are you going to take care of that?”

“Nah,” he shrugs. “I’m exhausted. Too much work.”

Nodding, you return to your work. Halfway through shuffling papers, you realize that your threshold for normalcy has changed since knowing Gojo Satoru. He has that effect on people. Adapt or die.

The couch shifts. Exasperated, you look over - only to see Gojo rolling his hips gently, grinding on nothing. His mouth is open and his eyes are closed as he pants softly.

“Are you serious,” your voice is completely toneless.

One eye cracks open, brilliant blue all the way to its core. “Hurts,” he groans. “This is the first time all week-“

“Can’t be that bad,” you say, even as you wonder why you’re entertaining this conversation, why you’re not getting up and leaving. “You look like you have all the time in the world. Can you even get off like that?”

“No.”

“Are you stupid?”

He moans. You know he’s only doing it to fuck with you. “Yeah, be meaner,” he goads.

You don’t know why you’re saying it. “Do you need help?”

He blinks. “Sorry?”

“Forget it,” your face burns. “If you don’t-“

“No, no,” he rushes to get the words out. “Help is good. Help would be great. Can you just, ah, can you-“

You reach over to palm him over his pants. He shudders, his spine taut as he arches instinctively towards your touch. His eyes roll back in his head. How badly did he need this? You shove his shoulders back so you have more room to work, preventing him from hunching over you. He grins up at you as you climb over him, straddling his thighs.

“Shh,” you murmur. You don’t recognize your own voice. It’s sensual in a way you’ve never imagined you could be, especially not for him. There’s something soothing about it, melodic and low. “Don’t say anything. Just let me handle it.”

“Okay- ah, fuck,” he hisses as you grip him a little more meanly.

“What did I say?”

Wisely, he doesn’t say anything. He’s always been a quick learner, usually the first to pick up on lessons.

“Good boy,” you coo. A soft breath escapes through his half open lips. You settle on his lap, continuing to work him through pants until he can’t take it anymore and throws his head back, baring his throat. His Adam's apple bobs as he heaves for breath. It’s too tempting. You kiss a bead of sweat arcing down his neck, tasting the salt of his skin before you bite down.

His muffled groan would tell you how much he liked it even if he wasn’t shaking with desire. Your lips curve into a smile against his neck before gracing him with another piece of evidence to carry with him tomorrow.

When you pull back to survey him, there’s more red on his body than you left. He’s so wound up that he’s nearly bitten through his lower lip. You make a humming noise of disapproval at him, but it’s not a major concern when you have such an easy solution.

He grabs at you as you climb off of him, but you shove his hands away. “Patience,” you scold as you tug your stockings off. His eyes light up, but you pity him. He doesn’t know what’s coming.

You shove the black mesh into his mouth. “Keep that there until you can learn not to hurt yourself.”

Whatever complaint he can voice through the fabric is lost as you drag his zipper down and reach into his boxers. His cock drools as you stroke him lazily, not putting too much thought into his enjoyment. This part is for you.

It’s not enough, you know. He needs more stimulation. But you like the way he’s growing more and more needy. You want to drive him insane, want to see him lose everything for you. You want to peel back the persona of the strongest sorcerer and make him lose himself in lust.

It’s almost sick, the way you want to see him brought low. A part of you wonders if you need to consider some kind of professional help for the enjoyment you’re deriving from this, the other, greater part is simply enjoying the high color in his cheeks.

You know how to take him apart, piece by piece, and you do it with a beautiful, precise brutality. He breaks for you, lets you arrange him to your liking.

“You can speak now,” you tell him, tugging your stockings out of his mouth. He moans in relief.

“Can I- can I please come?”

“No one’s stopping you, sweetheart.”

He’s so out of it that he can’t control his expressions. You giggle at the face he’s making, almost sexier for how silly it is. You reach forward fondly to wipe the saliva at the corner of his mouth, doting on him.

“So messy,” you murmur.

The noise he makes in response is barely even human.

“I can’t, not like this,” he whines. “Why are you torturing me?”

“I’m not doing anything. You know what you have to do if you want to come.”

He grins up at you, dazed. “You’re really going to make someone as pretty as me beg?”

“It’s because you’re pretty that I’m making you beg. Now come on, gorgeous. Put that mouth to work.”

“You’re evil,” he whines. You can feel him twitching.

“And?”

“So mean,” there’s a slight hitch in his breath when your other hand reaches towards the nape of his neck, your nails gently scratching at his scalp. “You’re hurting my feelings, you know.”

Dragging your nail over the head of his cock produces a delicious shiver from him.“Come on, pretty boy. Don’t you want it?”

He drops his head again, hanging over the back of the couch. “Fuck,” he pants. “Yeah. Please. I’ll do anything, please let me come.”

“Try a little harder.”

He groans, throwing a hand over his eyes. “Damnit, what do you want from me?”

You pull away.

He yelps, scrambling towards you. “Wait. Wait! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it. Please, come on?”

“Tell me something I want to hear, princess.” Your strokes are slow, matching the tempo of your conversational tone. There’s a ruddy blush already spreading across his cheeks, dappled strawberry on cream. You want to bite it, so you do. Noise tears out of his chest, entirely authentic surprise. It’s only a second before you pull away, no harm done but the idea of it. Gojo scowls at you.

It doesn’t change the fact that he got naked for you, or that he’s staying under you. You like him best like this, understanding of his place.

A monster of a man, tamed just for you.

“You’re obedient like a dog. Can you bark like one too?”

He gives you another scathing look which only merits a laugh.

“No? Maybe next time.”

You grip him a little tighter, rubbing your thumb into the sweet spot right under the head of his cock. He tries and fails not to twitch. It’s not good enough. You want to see him flail, sob, choke. You tease the sensitive tip and watch him crumble.

“Fuck,” he whimpers. “Fuck, fuck, I’m so close, please.”

His breath breaks on a moan, a strangled noise as he tries and fails to control himself. You love it, this part of him, still holding onto a quickly crumbling idea of pride or strength. It endears him to you so much you cup his cheek, comfort enough that he might be convinced to let go.

His next word is lost in the sound of a hiccup as tears begin to build in the corner of his eyes. You can sympathize. He’s at the point where pleasure feels too good and everything begins to feel too sensitive, too painful. His nerves, already more refined than the average person’s, must be burning, yet he holds on.

Not for much longer. You’ve built a rhythm now, stroking him fast, but he seems to love the manhandling. The rough treatment pushes him closer to the edge, closer to what you know he needs. His hips jerk with minute movements, trying not to drive you away once more. He wants to be good.

He’s practically drooling as you push him around. The slick noises of your palm against his skin quicken as his abs clench, finally unraveling for you. You keep at it, stroking him through it to the edge of overstimulation.

“Too much,” he whines. “It hurts!”

You slow down. “So you don’t want more? Too bad, I was going to let you fuck me.”

Gojo’s voice sounds ruined, but his hands are going to your hips instead of pushing you away. He tugs you even closer. You can feel him growing hard again, his cock pressed between your bodies. Even though he looks like he might sob if you keep toying with him, he nuzzles his head against your chest.

“More, Satoru?”

“Anything you’ll give me,” he promises.

You test him first, offering nothing to test the limits of his sensitivity. He doesn’t whine anymore, knowing by now to let you do as you please. His big hands are splayed over your hips as he helps you bounce in his lap, fucking between your thighs, but not where he wants.

“Can you even go again?”

“I told you-” You decide that he can. “Oh god-”

You’re hot and wet and tight around him. After so much teasing, his brain short-circuits. He said he could, but with the way he’s acting, you really don’t think he can handle it. You go to climb off him again, but Gojo moves before you can.

“No,” he whimpers, hands pressing you down harder. He bucks his hips up, trying to get deeper, trying to fill you up. You don’t know how he still has the strength to carry you, but he’s the strongest, after all. He picks you up just to drop you back down onto him.

You’re fucking like animals now, wet and messy. You can hardly hear anything over your combined moans and the noises coming from between the two of you, filthy, slick sounds. His hands are digging into your hips so hard that you can feel the bruises he’ll leave tomorrow.

Every drag of his cock against your pussy is bordering on painful as he chases his own pleasure, blind to everything but his need to mark you. You’re so full it aches, but beautifully, until it transforms into something else, satisfying an all-consuming need inside of you.

When you come, your orgasm wracks through your body. You clench down on him involuntarily, gasping as your pussy throbs around him. It ruins you, the way he presses up into you, trying to fuck you through it. Your thighs can’t stop trembling, your eyes rolling back in your head. You don’t want to imagine how you must look right now.

“Close,” Gojo gasps out. He’s been reduced to monosyllables for the past few minutes, all wit vanished from him. No sooner than he says it, his head drops onto your shoulder as he presses you down onto his lap, spilling inside of you. You whimper at the feeling, heat spreading through your core.

“What the fuck was that?” Gojo breathes shakily into the silence that ensues.

“Just- just shut up,” you reply. You hadn’t expected it either.

Gojo laughs and tucks a sweaty arm around you. “Were you hiding that from me all along? I mean, I knew you were into me, but-”

You do the only thing you know will shut him up. You kiss him. His eyes are hazy when you pull back.

“Um. Okay,” he says. “One more time?”

#sera writes #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo smut #gojou smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #ns.fw

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fayes-fics · 8 months ago

Text

When The World Is Free: Chapter 12 - Je T'ai Dans La Peau

MASTERPOST PREV | NEXT

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, WW2 AU.

Warnings: Teen-rated... non-graphic references to sex/sexual situations.

Word Count: 2.7k

Author’s Note: Multi-chapter fic based on a request by the lovely @amillcitygirl. Please see the masterpost for a synopsis of this story. Our couple are sneaking around Aubrey Hall, trying to get time alone together, but it was always going to be noticed by a certain eagle-eyed mama. Sorry this has taken a while, life got very busy. Thanks as always to @colettebronte for beta reading. Enjoy!

Aubrey Hall, UK, September/October 1939

It's the early hours when you finally get a moment alone with Benedict.

Throughout the evening, including a raucous but entertaining family dinner, your attempts are stymied at every turn. At the end of the evening, Eloise shows you to your guest room and lingers long after you have gotten ready for bed, waxing lyrical about Phillip, her plans to get a place in London (“Come with me!”) and her ambitions to get a job at the British Library.

You listen as intently as you can, but your eyes droop as you climb under the covers, the bed so plush, promising her you are still listening even when you settle into the pillows. At some point, you drift off, maybe her as well, but when you awaken, your wristwatch says it is after midnight, and she is gone from your room.

Just as you are drifting again, there is a soft knock at your door. You wonder if you heard correctly at first, but when it happens again, you sleepily alight from your bed. Upon opening, the sight before you has you wide awake - Benedict, looking cosy but dashing in navy blue silk pyjamas. After a quick check that the corridor is clear, you grab his arm and haul him into your room, closing and locking the door behind you.

You look at each other, breathing heavily for a beat, then crash into each other, him grabbing you and hauling you off the ground into his arm, your legs winding instantly around his hips as you kiss greedily, hungrily. He groans, cupping your jaw and kissing you more, always kissing, until you are breathless for air. Your need for him is like an eternal flame, burning slowly all the time, but the second he touches you, it roars, awakening something primal, a physical need that burns your lungs and aches deep inside.

“Can we?”

“Can we what…?” He replies, lips sliding to your neck.

“Have sex?”

“Oh god…I didn't bring protection,” Benedict rues, sinking his forehead onto your shoulder.

“Benedict!” you whine, a touch petulant.

“I’m sorry… I will go get it…” he offers apologetically.

“Don't you dare leave me again so soon,” you growl, winding yourself tighter around him.

He chuckles. “Then perhaps maybe we can just find pleasure in other ways…” his promise dusky as he lowers you onto the bed.

Half an hour later, you are staring at the ceiling, panting, utterly sated as he once again used his mouth to bring you to a shaking pinnacle, your cries muffled into a pillow.

“We must find somewhere private,” he sighs, his face resting on your belly as you card your fingers through his thick hair. “I like to hear you scream…” his wistful, cheeky addition makes you gasp and swat him gently on the shoulder. He laughs heartily and crawls up over you on all fours. “We can steal away somewhere on the grounds where no one would find us,” he assures, eyes shining in the low lamplight.

“I shall keep you to that promise, Mr Bridgerton,” you threaten softly, pushing his shoulders until he lies on his back, you hovering over him now. “Do you think you are capable of being as quiet as I was?”

“Why do you ask?” a flicker of confusion over his face, until your hand slides down his flat stomach and lands upon the warm bulge in his pyjamas.

“I would like to return the favour…” you offer, as his breath hitches beautifully. “I have never used my mouth as such, but you will teach me, won't you? Tell me what you like?”

His groan is like music as you shuffle lower, looking up at him with fluttering eyelashes as he stares down at you with utter devotion.

—

Bright sunlight slices through a gap in the heavy velvet curtains when you stir, sad to be alone. Benedict said he would leave at some point in the night but insisted you fall asleep in his arms.

As you descend the main staircase, Eloise catches up to you, looping your arm in hers and dragging you to breakfast. It's a far cry from your trips to the boulangerie together for croissants. It is a full buffet with gleaming silver chafing dishes lined up on a sideboard.

“Is your life here always like this?” your mind boggles as you help yourself to scrambled eggs and some bacon.

“Yeah, pretty much. Boring, right?” She pulls a face.

“Your idea of boring is so very different to mine…” you respond drolly, pouring a cup of coffee and taking a seat at the ornate, long dining table.

No one else appears to be taking breakfast now, but as Eloise natters away, you always have one eye on the doorway, hopeful Benedict will come in. But he doesn't, so you agree to a post-breakfast walk around the estate with her to enjoy the unseasonably warm, early autumn day.

However, as you head to the door, Violet appears as if from nowhere.

“Eloise dearest, I hope you did not forget our plans today…?”

You watch Eloise turn around in slow motion, a pained expression on her face. “Surely that can wait?” she appeals before tilting her head back towards you. “Mother is under the impression that now I am back home, I wish to join the Woman’s Institute,”

“We only meet once a month, and today is that day,” Violet attests, looking at her expectantly. “You have been abroad for the best part of a year, my dear; I would appreciate this quality time with you.”

It's the most loving, motherly manipulation, and you can tell by the way Eloises’s shoulders slump that she cannot argue that point.

“Come with me?” she appeals brightly, tugging your arm.

“Only members are allowed, my dear.” Violet cuts in calmly. “Next month, I can petition for y/n here to join, but she would have to wait until then.”

As you observe their back-and-forth, Benedict appears, wandering down the main staircase, dressed casually in a collarless shirt and brown trousers. He looks so good that you are tongue-tied, wanting to run to him and jump into his arms. You realise you are staring and have to tear your eyes away quickly, but it's too late. You can feel Violet’s watchful eye, made worse by knowing you have a darkening blush over your cheeks.

“Good morning, ladies,” he breezes, doffing an imaginary cap that makes his wedding ring catch the sunlight.

“Benedict dear, Eloise and I are off to Canterbury today. But perhaps you could show y/n around the estate grounds while we are out?” Violet breezes, fixing her son with a winning smile.

His eyes shoot to you and yours to his, a warm flicker behind your ribs at the thought you get a few hours alone together.

“Yes, no problem,” he smiles, attempting nonchalance.

“Don't do anything I wouldn't do…” is her parting shot as she gently drags Eloise towards the car outside.

“That covers a lot of ground; she's surprisingly daring,” Benedict states drolly as you watch them pile into the vehicle.

“Do you think she suspects something?” you ask faintly as you both stand in the doorway waving.

“Perhaps…” he concedes, not looking at you. “I suspect this was at least partially engineered. Not that I am complaining,” he adds hurriedly as the car pulls away.

“Same…” you offer quietly, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

—

You are staring at the wispy clouds puffing gently over the sky, the long grass lush under your back, the midday early autumnal sun warm on your skin as you lay naked, entwined together in post-coital bliss on a remote hillside of the estate.

“You kept your promise, Mr Bridgerton, to find us a secluded spot together.”

His crooked smile is boyish, and his eyes dance in the sunlight. “Indeed, I did. And I greatly enjoyed your screams,” he teases with a wink.

“Stop it,” you demure, burying your face into his armpit, enjoying the scent of his skin there.

“Don't be bashful now,” he chuckles, rearranging your bodies so you are under him, his head resting upon your chest. “I would keep any promise I made to you,” he continues after a pause. His tone sincere, his breath dusting warm over your nipple, and his ear pressed to the skin on your sternum as if listening to your heartbeat.

“And I to you,” you confess, your arms wrapping around his shoulders, fingers mapping a constellation of freckles near his shoulder blade.

“Will you be wanting a divorce?” his question is almost hesitant—like he is torn between wanting to know and not know all at once.

“Would you want one?” you volley back, knowing it’s cowardly to answer his question with another.

“I see no reason to,” his words are quiet as he tilts his chin to look at you. “I do not plan to marry another,” he adds pointedly.

“Me neither…” you answer, meeting his gaze imploringly, wanting him to believe it. The last thing you want to do is go back to America now. You want to stay here with him—for as long as he will permit.

“You will stay here?” There is a hopeful lilt in his voice, his left hand lacing with yours, wedding rings pressed together.

“I have my freedom to remain in this country. I wish to be nowhere else but here…” Your answer is so dangerously close to a confession of what you genuinely feel, but you hold back, even as you know your heart is now thudding hard under his ear.

“Here with me?” he flips up onto all fours and climbs over you, that beguiling smile seeming to capture his whole face.

“Yes, with you, if you’ll have me…” you smile back at him as he looms above, his face in shadow, his hair a riotous halo around his head, backlit by the sun.

“Oh, I will have you plenty of times…” his promise dusky as his lips land on yours.

“That sounds like a promise, Mr Bridgerton…” you join in the banter between kisses.

“And you know I keep my promises,” he smirks before grasping both of your hands in his and stretching them into the tangle of wildflowers above your heads as you get lost in each other's bodies again.

—

And so it continues, night after night, days becoming weeks. Stealing away precious moments together whenever possible, knowing the risk you are running but unable to resist any opportunity, physical longing takes over, falling into each other, desperate and yearning. As if a part of you lives under each other's skin. Every night, he comes to your room long after the house is asleep, and every night, you fracture around him, your ecstatic cries muffled into his dewy skin.

The clandestine nature is partly not wanting to confess to Eloise but also to keep it a secret from the world—a precious, rare thing, just a fledgling you want to shelter. Give it time to breathe and grow. Although, on some level, you know that Violet knows. Her glances at you both, when you are in the same room, feigning nothing untoward, are too pointed. Yet she says nothing outright.

It's two weeks since you settled into Aubrey Hall when Eloise is in a sour mood one morning. She had just received a phone call from Phillip, and you suspect their London rendezvous has been delayed again.

“Why the hell are you still wearing that?” she grouses uncharitably, pointing at your wedding ring.

“It means a lot to me; it’s a symbol of our escape,” your answer is a partial truth.

Eloise can’t seem to find fault with that, so swings her attention elsewhere. “So what's your excuse?” she gruffs to Benedict, who is reading the paper on the opposite sofa.

Across the room, you sense Violet's pause in her jigsaw puzzle.

“Why does the jewellery I wear bother you so much, sister?” he evades, crumpling down his newspaper to shoot her a withering glance. “I’ve never heard you comment upon my signet ring.”

“That's completely different, and you know it,” Eloise decries. “That's a ring you inherited from Dad. Also, where were you last night?” She abruptly changes the subject.

“What do you mean?” he bristles slightly.

“I went to your room late to borrow the Agatha Christie book you stole,” she pauses to pull a pointed face. “And you weren't there. Your bed didn't even look like it had been slept in.”

“Are you my mother now?” he rebuffs airily. “If you must know, I couldn't sleep either; I was out.”

“Your car was here…”

“Out as in outside,” he shoots back, “walking the grounds by moonlight.”

He's not lying. He is, however, omitting the fact that you were with him. The summer house by the lake has become your new clandestine spot, fashioning a comfortable bed of towels and pool lounger cushions. You can make love passionately in secret without fear of interruption or being overheard, falling asleep wrapped in each other as you stare out of the French doors at the blanket of stars reflecting on the still water.

Eloise gives him a lingering side-eye but returns to the book—Agatha Christie’s Death on the Nile. Once she is distracted, your eyes dart to Benedict, and he gives you a reassuring smile that you can't help but mirror, even as Violet peers at you mutely once again.

—

Later that day, you are perusing books in Anthony’s office when a painting of a man who looks remarkably like Benedict makes you stop short. Violet seems to materialise beside you.

“My husband, Edmund,” she explains, her voice wistful and evocative of the ache of lost love, undulled by the passage of time. “True love is a wondrous thing; never let it slip through your fingers, and treasure every moment,” she counsels, twisting to look at your face.

“I would never,” you answer quietly, even as you steadfastly refuse to do the same, staring at the painting, heart speeding up.

“That's a good thing, my dear, and don’t worry about the judgement of others, especially those who are spirited and headstrong.” She can only be referring to Eloise: “They all come around eventually, believe me.”

At that, you have to look at her askance, unable to hide the nerves on your face. “You know?” unable to resist any longer.

“I know my children better than they know themselves,” she responds lightly, “and I certainly know when they are hiding something,” she adds softly, saying but not saying so much.

It feels like a weight is lifted from your heart, the undeniable urge to confess to someone - unable to do so to your usual companion.

“I have no idea how to tell Eloise,” you rush out. “This was never my plan, not what I intended to happen,” you clarify. “Benedict sacrificed his future to give me my freedom.”

“You sacrificed yours too…” she gently interrupts.

“But I never wanted mine,” you admit, your eyes drifting back up to the handsome man in the painting as if admitting it to Benedict’s dad as much as his mum at your side. “At least, not once I met your son…. I thought I knew what I wanted in life. But I was a fool. And now… I….” you trail off, unable to finish.

“You love him, don't you?” It's a delicate, comforting inflexion.

“I can barely believe it myself; it's been such a short period of time. But yes…” you admit sotto voce, hanging your head as a tear wells in the corner of your eye.

“As I said, I know my children better than they know themselves,” she repeats, wrapping an arm around your back, “and I know when one of them is hopelessly in love.”

Your head jerks up in surprise, and you finally look into her kindly gaze, your heart a kaleidoscope.

“Yes, my dear. It may take him a while to say it,” she qualifies, “but it's no less true.”

That tear escapes your eye as she pulls you into a motherly hug. Already knowing this will be a secret you keep between you, for now at least.

“Welcome to the family, y/n.”

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lovelyladyabsinthewrites · 1 year ago

Text

Homelander being obsessed with his sister HC

Warnings: siblingxsibling implications, Homelander being such a narcissist that he falls in "love" with his own sibling, dubcon, manipulation, stalking, basically all the horrible parts of HL come out to play, MC has blonde hair and blue eyes like HL, different plot than 'All I Ever Wanted, All I Ever Needed'.

II III IV V

Cuz you know all this man wants is a family after being depraved of it from the moment he was born

He’s been alone, starved of physical and emotional comfort

HL just wants SOMEONE to call his own

And when Vogelbaum tells him that he’s not alone in the world, that he has someone in the world, he insisted that he meets this new sibling. What was Vought planning? Why was their newest supe baby sharing his DNA?

Visiting you in Vought's secret nursery, there was an immediate shock of electricity shooting through his brain Already at several months old, you could see his face clearly and gurgled happily, reaching to the young man. Homelander stamps his claim on you immediately. Whatever the scientist had planned for you, HL would intervene. Looking down at your sweet, chubby face was enough to win him over to your side

It would take over him, he’d become a man possessed. He tried to finish all of his tasks as soon as he could so that he could visit you in the nursery.You were now his top priority

His psychotic tendencies were already starting to show early on which worried many of the executives and scientist that were in charge of your well being. They decided that they would not make the same mistake twice. Adoptive parents were looked into. Homelander caught wind. He wasn't opposed, though he'd miss being able to see his little sister easily. Having two actual parents to love her was way better than being monitored and doted on by simple staff.

There were certain mandates that HL insisted on: he'd get the last say on who you went to and he had the right to visit you whenever he wanted.

His jam packed schedule made it harder to visit you regularly though. Stillwell always had him busy either with the marketing team or getting his face out there with missions and other acts of service. You were always on his mind though.

He'd send your adoptive parents mountains of presents for you and wrote you volumes of letters (though at 4 years old you were unable to read). He made sure you'd want for nothing even if your adoptive parents were already well off.

Friction arose when the occasion of your 6th birthday came up and Homelander wanted to take the day off. Madelyn refused his request, claiming that he had more important things to attend to. That was possibly the first time Stillwell was the receiver of his intimidating glower. There was nothing more important than you. Stillwell reminds him that if any of their enemies were to find out about your existence that you could prove to be a weakness to HL rather than the blessing he found you to be. Through association, he could potentially be endangering you with his visits.

Deep down, he knew Stillwell was right. The greater the hero he became, the more he'd be putting you at risk if anyone found out. So until you were old enough to protect yourself, Homelander made the painful decision to keep his distance.

For fourteen years he kept a wide berth from you, his one true weakness. In that time he climbed to the pinnacle of stardom. All of America loved him. Including you and your family.

But you didn't remember much of when you were younger. Didn't remember the bond you share with him. You admire him as the hero you know as Homelander. Not as your brother, not even as John. No, your brothers were the ones your parents had after you were welcomed into their family. Two little brothers who followed you everywhere because they were in such awe that their big sister was a supe. You flew them around, let them show you off to their friends, and protected them from bullies. They were your number one fans.

By your twentieth birthday, Homelander came across your application into the Seven that Madelyn had been hiding. While he hadn't seen you in fourteen years, he still tried to keep his information on you up to date via Vought's archives. Since you were a supe, you went to special 'doctor's appointments', but they were all Vought orchestrated to see what you were really capable of.

He watches your try-out video incessantly, marveling in the beautiful, vivacious young lady you'd become. The little girl he'd last seen was gone. Not a hint of her could be found, only the way her smile made her eyes so bright. She was charismatic with the people interviewing her. Perhaps he unblinkingly stared at her video a little too much. Not aware of the connection, Maeve pointed out how often he'd watched that video. He doesn't want to tell Maeve the truth. Stillwell's warning ringing in his ears that no one should know how the two were related. But you were a hero of your own now. Grown up and more than capable of wielding your powers to protect yourself. Reluctantly the words leave past his lips but he did take some satisfaction from the rounding of her eyes.

"This secret is not to be shared with anyone else." His fingers snatch her arm before she leaves his presence. Maeve pivots on her heels, glaring at him as she tries to wrench her arm free.This only spurns him to tighten his grip. "Do you understand? If I find out that you put her in danger because you couldn't keep your fucking mouth shut, I'll kill you."

HL does everything he could to get you into the Seven but in the end Stillwell held the last say and decided to go with Starlight.That wouldn't be the end to his obsession. Not in the least bit. Now he made it a priority to meet you. He was nervous but once you began to spout praises toward him, HL relaxed. You were excited that THE Homelander was giving you the time of day. "So you remember me?"

That caught you off guard. "Remember you?"

Those two words cause his smile to falter and something dark drop to his stomach. His mouth forms your name, your civilian name that you hadn't told him prior. "Surely. . . you remember me. . . You can't forget about your only. . ." He seemed to be losing himself in panic. You didn't understand the tears that were pooling on his lower lids as he advanced toward you and grabbed you by the shoulders. You're so shocked that you don't even make a move away from him. Just staring widely at Homelander. "I'm your brother. You don't remember me?"

Not giving you any time to reply, HL propels the both of you into the sky.

It's not easy keeping a supe held captive. But being one of the strongest on earth, Homelander managed perfectly fine.

"Don't freak out." Homelander tells you with a gentle smile, like he was warning a child. "Of course I'm gonna freak out!" Your eyes burn with what you know to be one of your shared abilities with HL, laser beams. "You literally just kidnapped me after saying you're my brother!!"

"YOU KNOW WHO I AM" His switch in personalities makes you jolt. He slams his fist into the wall behind your head. "Stop saying you don't know who I am!!"

You were strong, yes, but compared to Homelander? You knew fighting him would only result in your defeat. He drags you through his apartment until you're in his bedroom where you immediately become more frantic and resist his pulling. HL hastily grabs a box from under his bed and begins throwing several pieces of paper at you. "You don't remember any of these??!!" They're children's drawings along with a few sloppily written words. Your parents had similar drawings that you had done when you were little. You didn't remember drawing any of them though.

He's pacing his room now, muttering to himself :"I only left so you'd be safe.""Didn't think you'd forget me.""How could you forget me?""I should've known better than to listen to Madelyn."

You're looking for a way out while he's distracted. You could fly through his window, get the fuck out of there. But it would take HL mere seconds to catch up with you. While you're trying to come up with an escape plan, you can't help but notice the shuddering in his shoulders. You not remembering him truly wounded HL "I-I'm sorry Homelander-"

"John." Slowly he turns to face you once more, his eyes red from a few tears that had trickled down his cheeks. "You used to call me John." His face is utterly broken. You don't know how to handle his constantly changing moods but can't find yourself to leave. Your empathy gets the best of you when you reach down to pat him soothingly on the back. His hand springs toward your face, snatching your jaw in a bone crushing hold.

"I won't make the same mistake again. I'm not letting you go."

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