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xaviesstarlight · 3 months ago

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You Find Out You’re Pregnant

Content: You tell the LIs you are pregnant and receive their reactions. All fluff with a bit of angst in Caleb's that made me cry as I was writing it. I'm sorry, I had that hc about him and MC for a while now.

Rafayel

Thomas’s eyes widen in shock as you refuse his schedule for Rafayel’s next exhibition on your husband’s behalf. You are the one person he can rely on in convincing Rafayel to attend his art exhibitions, and here you are now betraying Thomas’s trust, which is completely out of character for you. You cross your arms, eyebrows raised, as you stare down Thomas in the foyer of Rafayel’s art studio/home.

“I’m sorry, Thomas,” you say. “I have an important commission for Rafayel that takes priority, and he absolutely cannot have any plans next Thursday. That is non negotiable.”

Rafayel meets Thomas’s gaze. Your husband is just as confused as he is. “Cutie, what are you talking about? You know I will do anything for you, but I don’t understand what’s going on. What is happening next Thursday?”

“MC, is something wrong?” Thomas adds. You grin. No one has any idea what you just learned that morning and the surprise you have for Rafayel, if only Thomas would leave.

“It’s something Rafayel and I must talk about in private. He’ll call you later. Go spend some time with your baby girl.” Your voice softened at the mention of his daughter. You shut the door in Thomas’s face. Bewildered, Thomas leaves.

The moment the door is shut, Rafayel gently grabs you by the shoulders. “Okay, he’s gone. Tell me what is happening, starfish. What is this commission you have planned for me?” Your eyes sparkle as you look at your lovely husband. You wrap your arms around his waist and touch your forehead against his.

“I need you to repaint the guest bedroom.”

Rafayel is speechless. “Is that it? Why do I need to repaint the guest room?”

You look up into Rafayel’s eyes, unable to stop smiling. Your hands make their way to his cheeks, ensuring that you don’t miss his reaction to your news.

“It’s going to be our nursery.”

Rafayel’s mouth twitched. “Nursery? As in for a baby?”

You nod. “Yes,” you say as tears fill your eyes. “I’m pregnant, and my appointment for the first ultrasound is next Thursday. I need you to come with me to meet our baby.”

Rafayel beams. Tears roll down his face as he kisses you deeply.

The next day, you find Rafayel with multiple paint samples in the guest room. He already has an idea of an ocean-themed mural for the wall where the baby’s crib will be and began shopping for furniture. He hasn’t stopped smiling since you told him the news. He stops his planning just to kneel before you, kissing your stomach. “I promise you, cutie, I will take care of you and our little glub glub. I can’t wait to be a parent with you.”

Zayne

The worst part about having a doctor for a husband is that you cannot hide anything from him. Any update to your electronic medical record will send a notification straight to Zayne. That is why when you suspect you are pregnant, wanting to surprise your husband with the news, your first thought is to scheme with Yvonne on how to take an official pregnancy test and not let Zayne know.

Of course, Yvonne always has your back. She lets you know when Zayne is scheduled for a particularly long surgery, so you could take the pregnancy test and get the results before he leaves the operating room. Yvonne even pulled in Greyson to officially run the test for you. When the positive results come back from the lab, Greyson and Yvonne plan to distract Zayne while you run to the bakery near the hospital to buy him a box of his favorite macarons. The bakery is kind enough to add a note in the box saying, “Congratulations, you are a father!”

When Zayne’s surgery ends, you are waiting impatiently in his office, bouncing your legs in anticipation of revealing the news. You have no doubt that Zayne will be ecstatic about becoming a father, but your hands holding the macarons still tremble. Zayne walks in, his mouth slightly curving up when he sees you waiting for him.

“Hello, love. The surgery lasted longer than expected. Were you waiting for me very long?” He kisses your cheek before heading for his desk. “I need to finish the notes for this patient.”

“Wait,” you say louder than expected. If Zayne looks at his computer, he’ll see the notification about your pregnancy test. Zayne raises his eyebrows. “I need to tell you something first. It has to come from me.”

Zayne’s eyes widen as he rushes to your side. He cups your face in his hands. “What’s wrong? Are you sick? Tell me what’s going on.”

You laugh as tears fill your eyes. “Open the box.” You hand him the macarons. Zayne takes the box and opens it, reading the note inside. His head snaps up to look at you. “It’s true. You’re going to be a father. I just found out while you were in surgery.” You hand him the official results of your test.

Zayne immediately takes the documents and reads them over. A man of science, you know that he will not officially process the information until he sees the lab results. “You’re pregnant,” he whispers. Zayne touches his forehead to yours. “We’re having a baby.” He kisses you and holds you in a warm hug.

“We need to schedule an appointment for an ultrasound,” you whisper in his ear. “Do you want to see about taking a day off soon?” Zayne immediately picks you up and begins carrying you to the front desk.

“You and the baby are my first priority. I will take as many days off as necessary to care for both of you. I love you both so much.”

Xavier

As soon as you learn the news of your pregnancy, you take off from work without telling Xavier. He is away on a mission in the No Hunt Zone and will not return until that night. You set up the apartment in anticipation for his arrival. Blankets and pillows cover the living room sofa, and hot pot is on its way from Xavier’s favorite take out place. You also sit a single bun in the oven. You grin to yourself as you take in the cozy apartment with everything ready.

Xavier returns home around the time you were expecting. You run to the door to kiss him and say, “I have a surprise for you.” Xavier smiles against your lips.

“Is that so? What have I done to receive such a warm welcome home?” You giggle as you lead your husband to the kitchen.

“I ordered hot pot.” You point to the food on the table. “But I need you to take out the food in the oven for me.”

Xavier gives you a puzzled look. “You need me to get something out of the oven? After you said numerous times before to never touch it? What are you up to?” You grin wider. “Please, Xavier!”

“Okay,” Xavier opens the oven door to find a cold bun sitting on one of the racks. “There’s just a bun sitting here. I don’t understand.”

“What do you see?” You clasp your hands behind your back and rock back and forth in excitement. Xavier frowns as he looks at you.

“A bun?”

“Where?”

“In the oven.” You nod in encouragement. “Is this a riddle? There’s a bun in the oven.” Once Xavier says the words out loud, his eyes widen. You can see them light up in acknowledgement. “There’s a bun in the oven,” he says slowly. Xavier strides over to you and places his hand on your lower abdomen. “Are you?”

“Yes, I’m pregnant. You’re a father.” Xavier immediately wraps you into a tight hug. He kisses your cheek, neck, and finally lips.

“Xavier, that tickles!” You laugh as Xavier places you on the couch and pulls you close.

“I’m just so happy,” he says. Xavier continues kissing your body all the way down to your abdomen. “This is the best news I could ever receive. I love you, starlight.”

Sylus

You pace Sylus’s study as you wait for him to return from a meeting. He had asked if you wanted to come, but you declined. It would be best if you stayed far away from his business meetings in your condition. You just found out for sure that you are carrying his child, and you decided to tell him the news as soon as he got back. Mephisto perched nearby, watching you anxiously. You cannot count the number of times you threatened the crow that day. Sylus has to hear the news from you. You would never forgive Mephisto if he spilled the secret before you had a chance to tell him.

You turn abruptly at the sound of the door opening. Sylus walks in with a streak of blood on his cheek and some on his clothes. You immediately rush to him, checking his body for wounds. “Are you hurt? Did the meeting go south that badly?

Sylus grabs your trembling hands. His large, warm hands envelop yours, putting your mind a bit at ease. “I’m perfectly fine, kitten. It would take a lot more than that mediocre crook to harm me.” He smirks as he leans closer to you. “Were you that worried about me? I’m more worried about Mephisto. He wouldn’t tell me why, but you were mean to him all day.”

Many thoughts fill your mind. You are relieved that Sylus is safe, but seeing him covered in blood causes yours to turn cold. You bury your face into his chest, suddenly becoming shy as you mumble, “I am worried. I’m worried you will get hurt and no longer be here for me and the baby.”

Sylus tenses at your words. “Baby? Kitten, look at me.” He tilts your chin up so your gaze meets his. “What do you mean?”

“You can’t afford to take any risks. I just found out I’m pregnant. You’re going to be a father.” Sylus’s eyes soften as he smiles. His love for you is evident from his gaze alone.

“You’re pregnant? That’s what you had Mephisto hiding from me?” Sylus leans down to kiss your forehead, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“I wanted to be the one to tell you.” “I promise you that you will not need to worry about anything. I will take care of you both, provide you with everything you need, and keep you safe.” You glare at Sylus before he adds, “I will also keep myself safe for you.” You kiss Sylus on the lips. “That’s all I ask.”

Sylus picks you up and carries you to the bedroom. “My kitten should not be on her feet in this condition. Get some rest. Just tell me what you need, and I’ll get it. I’m not leaving your side.”

Caleb

Caleb walks through the door of the apartment, still in his colonel uniform, to find you sitting cross-legged on the floor flipping through one of your old photo albums while crying. You sniffle as you look at one of your earliest pictures at Gran’s house. You stand with Caleb in your old kitchen holding a basket of apples. Knowing this is the oldest picture of you fills your heart with sadness. You have no idea who you were before Gran took you in. You just found out you’re pregnant and remembered that you have nothing from your early years to pass on to your baby. Not even Caleb has connections to his biological family. What will you tell your baby about your roots?

Caleb takes off his hat and rushes to your side. “What’s wrong, honey?” he asks while wrapping his arms around you. “Are you thinking about Gran?” You wipe the tears from your cheeks as you explain about the photos, not telling him about the baby just yet.

“It’s okay,” Caleb coos as he rubs circles on your back. “We’re each other’s family, and that’s all that matters. One day, we’ll have children and will always be there for them. We can give them what we didn’t have.” Caleb takes the photo album and closes it before fully embracing you. “We won’t lose each other, I promise.”

“What if that day comes sooner than expected?” “What do you mean?”

You lean back, studying Caleb’s face. “I’m pregnant, Caleb. We’re starting our family now.”

Caleb’s mouth hangs open as the shock sets in. “MC.” Caleb hugs you. He fully wraps his arms around your shoulders as if he’s afraid that you will disappear in thin air. You feel his lips against your temple. “Is it true? You’re having a baby?”

You begin crying harder, this time from happiness. “I took a test this morning. We’re having a baby.”

You and Caleb continue sitting on the floor in each other’s embrace, both of you refusing to let go. You spend some time in silence. Then, you begin sharing all your dreams and plans. “I will protect you both,” Caleb says while kissing you. “This child is going to be so loved. We’ll fill hundreds of albums with baby pictures.” You giggle at the thought of a closet full of just photos. Caleb would do it. “Most importantly,” he says, “I love you. What happened to us will never happen to our child. I promise you that.”

#lads fanfic #love and deepspace #lads xavier #lads caleb #lads zayne #lads sylus #lads rafayel #my fanfic #lads fluff #lnds xavier #lnds rafayel #lnds zayne #lnds caleb #lnds sylus #l&ds rafayel #l&ds xavier #l&ds sylus #l&ds caleb #l&ds zayne

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mostlysignssomeportents · 10 months ago

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Return to office and dying on the job

Denise Prudhomme's bosses at Wells Fargo insisted that the in-person camaraderie of their offices warranted a mandatory return-to-office policy, but when she died at her desk in her Tempe, AZ office, no one noticed for four days.

That was in August. Now, Wells Fargo United has published a statement on her death, one that vibrates with anger at the callously selective surveillance that Wells Fargo inflicts on its workforce:

https://www.reddit.com/r/WellsFargoUnited/comments/1fnp9fa/please_print_and_take_to_your_managersite_leader/

The union points out that Wells Fargo workers are subjected to continuous, fine-grained on-the-job surveillance from a variety of bossware tools that count their keystrokes and create tables of the distancess their mice cross each day:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/02/24/gwb-rumsfeld-monsters/#bossware

Wells Fargo's message to its workforce is, "You can't be trusted," a policy that Wells Fargo doubled down on with its Return to Office mandate. Return to Office is often pitched as a chance to improve teamwork, communication, and human connection with your co-workers, and there's no arguing with the idea that spending some time in person with people can help improve working relationships (I attended a week-long, all-hands, staff retreat for EFF earlier this month and it was fantastic, primarily due to its in-person nature).

But our bosses don't want us back in the office because they enjoy our company, nor because they're so excited about having hired such a swell bunch of folks and can't wait to see how we all get along together. As John Quiggin writes, the biggest reason to force us back to the office is to get a bunch of us to quit:

https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2024/sep/26/in-their-plaintive-call-for-a-return-to-the-office-ceos-reveal-how-little-they-are-needed

As one of Musk's toadies put it in a private message before the Twitter takeover, "Sharpen your blades boys. 2 day a week Office requirement = 20% voluntary departures":

https://techcrunch.com/2022/09/29/elon-musk-texts-discovery-twitter/

The other reason to spy on us is because they don't trust us. Remember all the panic about "quiet quitting" and "no one wants to work"? Bosses' hypothesis was that eking out a bare minimum living on from a couple of small-dollar covid stimulus checks was preferable to working for them for a full paycheck.

Every accusation is a a confession. When your boss tells you that he thinks that you can't be trusted to do a good job without total, constant surveillance, he's really saying, "I only bother to do my CEO job when I'm afraid of getting fired':

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/19/make-them-afraid/#fear-is-their-mind-killer

As Wells Fargo United notes, Wells Fargo employees like Denise Prudhomme are spied on from the moment they set foot in the building until the moment they clock out (and sometimes the spying continues when you're off the clock):

Wells Fargo monitors our every move and keystroke using remote, electronic technologies—purportedly to evaluate our productivity—and will fire us if we are caught not making enough keystrokes on our computers.

The Arizona Republic coverage notes further that Prudhomme had to log her comings and goings from the Wells Fargo offices with a badge, so Wells Fargo could see that Prudhomme had entered the premises four days before, but hadn't left:

https://www.azcentral.com/story/news/local/tempe-breaking/2024/09/23/wells-fargo-employees-union-responds-death-tempe-woman/75352015007/

Wells Fargo has mandated in-person working, even when that means crossing a state line to be closer to the office. They've created "hub cities" where workers are supposed to turn up. This may sound convivial, but Prudhomme was the only member of her team working out of the Tempe hub, so she was being asked to leave her home, travel long distances, and spend her days in a distant corner of the building where no one ventured for periods of (at least) four days at a time.

Bosses are so convinced that they themselves would goof off if they could that they fixate on forcing employees to spend their days in the office, no matter what the cost. Back in March 2020, Charter CEO Tom Rutledge – then the highest-paid CEO in America – instituted a policy that every back office staffer had to work in person at his call centers. This was the most deadly phase of the pandemic, there was no PPE to speak of, we didn't understand transmission very well, and vaccines didn't exist yet. Charter is a telecommunications company and it was booming as workers across America upgraded their broadband so they could work from home, and the CEO's response was to ban remote work. His customer service centers were superspreading charnel houses:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/03/18/diy-tp/#sociopathy

That Wells Fargo would leave a dead employee at her desk for four days is par for the course for the third-largest commercial bank in America. This is Wells Fargo, remember, the company that forced its low-level bank staff to open two million fake accounts in order to steal from their customers and defraud their shareholders, then fired and blackballed staff who complained:

https://www.npr.org/sections/thetwo-way/2016/09/26/495454165/ex-wells-fargo-employees-sue-allege-they-were-punished-for-not-breaking-law

The executive who ran that swindle got a $125 million bonus:

https://www.nakedcapitalism.com/2016/09/wells-fargo-ceos-teflon-don-act-backfires-at-senate-hearing-i-take-full-responsibility-means-anything-but.html

And the CEO got $200 million:

https://money.cnn.com/2016/09/21/investing/wells-fargo-fired-workers-retaliation-fake-accounts/index.html

It's not like Wells Fargo treats its workers badly but does well by everyone else. Remember, those fake accounts existed as part of a fraud on the company's investors. The company went on to steal $76m from its customers on currency conversions. They also foreclosed on customers who were up to date on their mortgages, seizing and selling off all their possessions. They argued that when bosses pressured tellers into forging customers on fraudulent account-opening paperwork, that those customers had lost their right to sue, since the fraudulent paperwork had a binding arbitration clause. When they finally agreed to pay restitution to their victims, they made the payments opt-in, ensuring that most of the millions of people they stole from would never get their money back.

They stole millions with fraudulent "home warranties." They stole millions from small businesses with fake credit-card fees. They defrauded 800,000 customers through an insurance scam, and stole 25,000 customers' cars with illegal repos. They led the pre-2008 pack on mis-selling deceptive mortgages that blew up and triggered the foreclosure epidemic. They loaned vast sums to Trump, who slashed their taxes, and then they fired 26.000 workers and did a $40.6B stock buyback. They stole 525 homes from mortgage borrowers and blamed it on a "computer glitch":

https://pluralistic.net/2021/09/29/jubilance/#too-big-to-jail

Given all this, two things are obvious: first, if anyone is going to be monitored for crimes, fraud and scams, it should be Wells Fargo, not its workers. Second, Wells Fargo's surveillance system exists solely to terrorize workers, not to help them. As Wells Fargo United writes:

We demand improved safety precautions that are not punitive or cause further stress for employees. The solution is not more monitoring, but ensuring that we are all connected to a supportive work environment instead of warehoused away in a back office.

Tor Books as just published two new, free LITTLE BROTHER stories: VIGILANT, about creepy surveillance in distance education; and SPILL, about oil pipelines and indigenous landback.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/09/27/sharpen-your-blades-boys/#disciplinary-technology

#pluralistic #disciplinary technology #jason calicanis #return to work #remote work #wells fargo #Denise Prudhomme #tempe #arizona #bossware #surveillance

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hansrkive · 12 days ago

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JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY (K.SY)

Jealousy is a disease and unfortunately, your husband, Soonyoung, has it.

౨ৎ PAIRING: kwon soonyoung x afab!reader

౨ৎ GENRE: kinda fluff kinda angst if you squint super hard

౨ৎ TAGS: suggestive themes, jealousy, kissing, hugging, and drinking

౨ৎ NOTES: super short one-shot to get me off of my writing slump !! hope y’all like it

౨ৎ HYPERLINKS: pinned post, ko-fi, seventeen’s master-list, and soonyoung’s master-list.

౨ৎ WORDCOUNT: 975 words.

KWON RESIDENCE, SEOUL, SOUTH KOREA — June 2, 2024

You’ve come to the conclusion that Soonyoung, your husband of six years, had the flair for the dramatics when he was needy. He would mope around when your attention was fixated on your puppy, he would sigh loudly whenever you would fawn over fictional men, and he would cling to you like a koala when you chose work over him. Even though he was clingy, he also knew to give you space when you needed it.

“How long will you be gone?” Soonyoung asked as he folded and added your clothes to your luggage. You had a week-long seminar for your work in a different city, and of course, Soonyoung, who tried his best not to cling to you, remained calm.

“A week,” you said as you packed your electronics. “You’ll be fine, Soon-ie. You literally have shit-ton of friends to hang out with, plus, you have work to keep you busy.”

“I know,” Soonyoung sighed. “Mingyu called everyone for a boy’s night out.”

“So, at your age, stay at home and watch action films?” You laughed, carefully laying your bag down at the foot of your bed.

As Soonyoung closed your luggage, he stood up and hugged you tightly from behind, easing onto the heat your body radiated. “You know me so well,” Soonyoung murmured, his lips leaving soft pecks on your shoulder. “Is Hyebin picking you up?” he asked, his arms still tightly embracing you as you tried to pack your makeup.

“She said she couldn’t,” you said. “Myunggi and Hyujun are picking me up.” As if Soonyoung’s world came to a screeching halt. Myunggi, your co-worker, has been the bane of his existence ever since you worked for your company.

Your friends threw you a surprise birthday party? He was there.

Your sister had a baby shower for his daughter? He was there.

You broke your wrist? He was, unfortunately, there.

“Oh.” Soonyoung’s smile ceased, as if dark clouds had formed above his head. “Doesn’t he have his own car?” Soonyoung bitterly said, still tightly hugging you, yet you could feel him making a face.

“God, babe,” you laughed, turning around to face him. “You’re still iffy about him?”

“Who said I was iffy?” Soonyoung faked a chuckle, but his tense muscles gave him out almost immediately. “I trust you and that’s all that matters.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll be the one to pick me up at the office,” you laughed, trying to brush off Soonyoung’s worry.

SEUNGCHEOL’S HOUSE, SEOUL, SOUTH KOREA — June 6, 2024

“Has Y/N left for her seminar?” Seungcheol asked Soonyoung as the whole group loitered around his house, everyone doing different stuff.

“Yeah,” Soonyoung mumbled, clearly still distraught about your co-worker. “A few days ago. She’s coming back in two days.”

Chan, whose eyebrows were creased, looked at Soonyoung weirdly. “You’re not painting the whole picture, Soonyoung-ah,” he laughed.

“This co-worker of Y/N picked her up,” Soonyoung revealed, earning a couple of chuckles from his friends.

“You’re still jealous of Myunggo? Or was it Myunggi?” Jeonghan cackled, almost spilling his coffee. Ever since Soonyoung felt wary of your co-worker, his friends have been teasing him about it. Telling him that there is no sense in getting jealous because you have been very vocal about how Soonyoung is the only one for you, same with him. “Maybe that Myunggi is just friendly.”

Soonyoung fell silent, his friends didn’t push the topic, seeing him all bothered and worried that you might slip away from him.

8:53 PM

[mr. kwon] hey, baby [mr. kwon] just wanted to check up on you [mr. kwon] we’re at cheol’s house lol

9:47 PM

[mrs. kwon] bubba! [mrs. kwon] sorry for replying late [mrs. kwon] the seminar started late [mrs. kwon] plus everyone gathered for drinks -_-

9:49 PM

[mr. kwon] u okay? [mr. kwon] are you back at the hotel? [mrs. kwon] i’m fine baby [mrs. kwon] myunggi was the designated driver so he dropped us all off at our rooms

“Dude, it’s your turn.” Wonwoo nudged Soonyoung, who was glued to his phone.

Myunggi, 1. Soonyoung, 0.

“Trust me, you don’t have any reason to get jealous. Y/N loves you, you love Y/N. End of discussion.” Mingyu said, trying to ease Soonyoung’s nerves.

“I’ll just get some fresh air outside,” Soonyoung mumbled as he stood up and left his friends who were playing Dungeons and Dragons. As hard-headed as he was, his friends were right. There was no reason to get jealous. You were probably the most trustworthy person he knew, and here he was, being a baby. As he was about to call and apologize for being jealous for no apparent reason, his phone suddenly rang, your name plastered on his screen like a big wake-up call.

“You didn’t reply to my text,” you pouted, body aching for your husband’s touch.

“I was thinking about how to apologize.” Soonyoung sighed, his fingers fidgeting for your response.

“Apologize? For what?” you asked. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I was jealous,” he confessed, the cold air hitting the back of his throat. “Then I realized I shouldn’t get jealous because there’s no reason to be.”

“Oh, my love,” you chuckled sweetly, wanting to pepper Soonyoung with kisses. “I’m sorry if you felt that way. Trust me, Myunggi is just a friend. Plus, I’m not his type.”

“I feel so dumb,” Soonyoung laughed, the dark cloud around him leaving him for good.

“You’re not, baby. It’s a normal human emotion,” you assured him. “I love you, okay? Only you.”

“I love you too, so much.” Soonyoung sighed in relief. “Can’t wait to see you. The boys have been bothering and teasing me so much.”

“That’s what you get for getting jealous.” you joked, earning a hearty laugh from your husband.

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suppose-i-was-worm · 12 days ago

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Marzipan Boy part 5

https://archiveofourown.org/works/64048147/chapters/173345350

“So your siblings live in Star City?”

Danny nodded absently, inspecting the parts laid out on the desk in front of him. Tim had invited him to Wayne Industries to look at trial components for his gaming setup- apparently Wayne Electronics was looking into custom computers, and Tim needed a test dummy.

Danny was happy to stress test free tech. Tucker would be ecstatic.

“Yeah- Jazz and Dante are in college there- Jazz has custody of Ellie.”

“Why did you choose Gotham?”

“Sam and Tucker, really. I mean, I’m currently sleeping on their couch, but two years of free rent isn’t something to shake a stick at.”

Tim made an inquisitive noise, and Danny looked over to see the CEO writing some notes on his tablet.

“Long story. In any case, I’m here for college- Gotham U’s Intergalactic Relations program is second only to Metropolis U, and we can’t afford Metropolis.”

“Intergalactic Relations?”

Danny put down the SSD he was toying with and picked up a different one.

“Yeah, figured it would be useful. I don’t like it much, but with my positi- I mean- Well, can’t get to space otherwise.”

“Because of the nerve damage?”

“Exactly. Can’t do a normal spacewalk.”

With a laugh, Tim put down his tablet and wandered over to stand next to Danny- Danny intentionally leaned a little closer to his crush, but not too close as to crowd him.

“I’m sure you’ll do great at Intergalactic Relations.”

“I’m passing so far!”

Danny grinned down at Tim, who handed him a motherboard component.

“Try this one, it’s probably the best for gaming.”

The two of them smiled at each other for a second before they were interrupted by a cough from the door.

“Excuse me, Mr. Drake-Wayne, you’ve got an appointment in fifteen. I’ll give you two time to kiss goodbye.”

Tam winked at Tim as they sheepishly turned toward her, and then closed the door to the office again.

“Sorry about her.”

It was surprising to see Tim flush so deeply, so Danny decided to shoot his shot.

“We can, you know? I wouldn’t be opposed. Unless I’m reading this wrong.”

“I’ll be rude, then.”

“Rude?”

Tim reached up and grabbed the back of Danny’s neck, pulling him into a sweet kiss, which Danny returned enthusiastically. He could survive a little ‘rudeness’, as a treat.

~~~

Phantom wrapped his skeletal form around Phantasm, staring down at the assembled Justice League with an unreadable expression on his gaunt features. Phantasm had her arms crossed, looking belligerent. Bruce resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Welcome, Phantom of the Frozen Citadel. Might I ask why you joined us on the Watchtower?”

Phantom’s great hollow eyes turned to Diana when she spoke. He was much larger than anyone in the room- smaller than when Bruce had first encountered him, but still towering.

“Phantasm forgot her lunch.”

The young ghost in question threw her hands up in exasperation, a gesture Bruce often saw from his own children.

“We would have appreciated prior warning before your arrival- no offense, but you caused great alarm with your approach.”

The surrounding heroes lowered their weapons as Phantom swung his head around to view them.

“Ah. I see- my apologies. I will send warning prior to any future visits.”

Phantom reached inside his chest and pulled out a lunchbag that looked tiny in his hands, balancing it carefully on Phantasm’s head despite the fact that she was covering her face with her hands.

“Do not leave your lunch at home, and I won’t have to visit you at work.”

“Daaad!”

The massive ghost smiled, and Bruce would almost describe the expression as smug.

“If you came to visit more often, I wouldn’t embarrass you in front of your friends.”

Phantasm snatched the lunchbox off of her head.

“Just you wait, I’m gonna crash your next date with your boyfriend.”

Bruce couldn’t help but exchange glances with Diana and Clark- what sort of power might the significant other of such an imposing figure have?

Phantom’s smile grew warmer, the star freckles across his sunken cheeks standing out more and more against his pale green skin.

“I would love that.”

With a shriek, Phantasm shot out of her father’s embrace, dropping her lunchbox as she brought her hands up to cover her mouth.

“You’re actually dating him now?”

The stars got brighter- Bruce surmised a blush, before Phantom blinked out of existence. Phantasm growled and landed.

“Damn him, now I have to visit.”

“Where would you be visiting, Phantom?”

Bless Diana, sneaking in a question about the Infinite Realms while Phantasm was distracted.

“Oh, Gotham. Dad spends most of his time there, after all.”

What.

~~~

Tim donated a few hundred to Danny- He’d been doing it quite often since the kiss, so much so that he had to program a shortkey into his phone so that it only took a few taps. His phone rang shortly after.

“Hey boo!”

“Hey Danny- was just thinking about you.”

“Lucky for you, I was thinking about you too- do you drop money every time you think about me? Is that what that is about?”

With a chuckle, Tim answered the affirmative.

“Of course. I love thinking about you, and I think you deserve good things.”

Danny was silent for a moment.

“Am I your sugar baby?”

“By definition, no,” Tim had looked up the definition. “You’d have to be younger than me for that- aren’t you a few months older?”

His boyfriend started laughing, and Tim grinned smugly. He loved Danny’s laugh.

Said laugh was cut off by Tim’s phone ringing through the call.

“Gotta go, babe, Bruce is calling.”

“Work thing? Knock ‘em dead!”

Tim sent another hundred as his call with Danny hung up, and then answered Bruce’s call.

“Hey B, what’s up?”

“The Voice of the Crown lives in Gotham.”

“Isn’t that a little… He’s a ghost, how can he live anywhere?”

“Tim.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll do some research. Do we have a general area, or?”

Bruce grunted a negative, and Tim sighed. Looks like his workload just doubled. Again.

“Send me the info you’ve got, and I’ll start looking.”

#dp x dc #dp x dc fanfic #dp x batman #dpxdc #tim drake/danny fenton

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bpee123 · 2 months ago

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irisinluv · 6 months ago

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Caleb Love and deep space thoughts- SPOILERS AHEAD

Second update of brain dumping my thoughts as I play through the game… this time entirely Caleb focused

Ok so I’ve been reading Caleb’s anecdotes, dates, every scrap of info that becomes available to me…. And holy shit he’s such a simp!

Man almost fucking died, was lost in space for 2 weeks, and he’s just like “haha hey pipsqueak! Yea secret training mission, sorry, I’m back online!” As he’s in a hospital bed. Like baby boy not letting mc know he almost died???? And then the card/memory/whatever it’s called where he’s sick, and she has to basically beg him all day to let her in? Man wants to be Superman for her. Seriously, he’s out here becoming a pilot cuz it would pay well and help provide for mc, and if anything happened he could just whisk her away.

He literally worships the ground mc walks on. Obsessed with the necklace he gave him, kissing the pendant before each flight, not letting her lift a finger at the house when it comes to chore type things, using his evol to win her plushies at the claw machine… also he’s soooo obviously into the domestic life with mc! His house is bare bones before the reunion. Then MC shows up and there’s the scene where he’s surrounded by boxes, setting things up….. I picture him totally kicking himself for not having everything set up sooner, bc he got a house just so she could move in. I see him just living in an apartment that’s part of the officer barracks. There’s no reason why he has a whole ass house if not for mc. He just didn’t expect her to have infiltrated his ranks as a spy and to pop up so soon…. But hey she’s here now and so he’s totally buying everything and having a hot ikea build sesh in that slutty little tank top of his.

Oh and you know he’s a cheeky idiot about the fact that mc picked his room when deciding where to stay. Like we got that from the gameplay obviously…. But I just want to take moment to appreciate how hard that man must have been grinning on the inside. I also think it’s so cute that mc really is just making his place a second home. She’s got a little garden going at his house! She talks about the little yellow flowers she planted there in one of the text messages, and when he mentioned restocking his snacks on a community post mcs already planning on raiding it.

Also he’s been so obsessed with her since they were kids. Like he’s got some weird amnesia brain trauma shit going on after his deep space incident, and he scored poorly on the mental health portion of his exams (not him answering the “what’s the greatest challenge with flight missions?” Question with “it’s hard to get home on time”), and I’m assuming he was also an experiment by ever like MC is (but I haven’t gotten to the point where I can say that for sure), but like. That isn’t why he’s the way he is. Man was out here protecting her from bullies, the thing where he’d buy two of everything for mc, think he said something like “I wanted to grow up to be the most loyal… well you know, I could be” LOYAL HUSBAND? But from the jump he’s been doing everything for her. It’s so interesting getting this background from all the memories and whatnot. Like he’s made it such a source of pride to take care of mc in every tiny way, and so when she says stuff about not needing him, or uh, I don’t remember what thing it was part of but she fixed some electronic and was like “damn that was easier than I thought, guess I gotta stop bugging you for every tiny little thing, I can just figure it out.” and he PANICS! Like no baby- that’s his comfort thing. No matter what else is going on, at least he can feel needed and wanted when you come playfully whining to him that you can’t find your favorite mug. He’s the walking advertisement for acts of service. Also one last thing.

Yall noticed how he put his hat on mc like right after the reunion? The only thing I could think of is what it means when you put on a guys cowboy hat. Like damn Caleb. She’s still in shock that you’re not dead. But get it ig.

#chattyluv #love and deepspace caleb #love and deep space #love and deepspace #lads #lads caleb #yandere caleb #yandere lads #lnds caleb #yandere blog #yandere #obsessive yandere #obsessive love #yandere love and deepspace

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transboyswitchytales · 2 months ago

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'Toxic To Consume But Delicious Too'(DARK FIC)

REQUEST FROM ANON: I would love to read a Claire Debella x reader fic where they have a toxic relationship…..

WARNINGS: DARK FIC

REQUEST FROM ANON: ‘if you are still taking requests, I would love to read a Claire Debella x reader fic where they have a toxic relationship. They separate because Reader wants to end the toxic cycle and Reader even moves and gets a job far away. However, Claire finds Reader e insists on returning to the relationship. Reader refuses and it seems that Claire will stop insisting but mysteriously Reader is forced to move back to Connecticut - perhaps because of her job. Yes, it was Claire but Reader doesn't kno’

NON CON ELEMENTS / Dub Consent / Piss Play Mentioned but not done / Daddy/Mommy Kink / Manipulation / Murder / Blackmail / Money Manipulation / Abuse / DARK FIC / Impregnation Kink / Non Safe-Sane - Consensual kink play / Humiliation Kink / Cock cage mentioned / Power Plays / House of Cards Aesthetic / yandere/ entrapment and negotiation / Begging / Claire G!P / Claire has a dick / You don't have the mental fortitude to say no / Past Relationships mentioned / Dr. Vidal for sure tried to fuck you / Dead Dove ; Don't Eat

Anon I hope you don't mind me making this dark, I hope you like it!

My Masterlist

You dropped yet another box full of books into the empty flat. Well, the apartment was less empty than before, you had shipped the sofa, side table, mattress, and two kitchen chairs. It was bare bones as you’d been moving pretty regularly.

You grabbed another box full of books, and the bottom of it broke out from under you.

“Fuck.” You curse, and you see it’s one of your many ‘Claire’ boxes. A small box clatters to the floor. You don’t open it, knowing it’s your wedding ring. Your therapist said you should get rid of most of this, but you couldn’t.

Governor Clarie DeBella was your ex-wife. Wel,l technically, you were still married. You’d tried to get a divorce and she’d refused.

She promised she’d fix everything, and you smiled and agreed. You’d made love in her office, in the town car, and then back in your mansion.

And then, when Claire fell asleep after you’d both cum around twelve times, you silently got up wincing in pain from being fucked so hard. You grabbed your phone, your wallet, and changed into street clothes. Sneaking out like a thief in the night.

That was a year and two months ago.

Every three months, Claire finds you, though, a man in a tux with an ear piece would come to your work, your coffee shop in the morning, your apartment. And you’d run, pack everything again, and start over.

It was not really a life to be honest, and you were so tired of running.

But here you are again.

You’d read in the paper and online that Claire DeBella, about to be former governor of Connecticut, as Claire was running to be Vice President. Was no longer in her home state.

It was a rumor at this point, but you knew better. Claire loved power; that’s why she craved your submission so much.

You’d been married before her, and Claire had been relentless until you belonged to her.

Claire was obsessed with you, you weren’t even sure if she understood what healthy love looked like.

You bent down to look at the box contents.

Love letters from Claire, and expensive jewelry were in the box. Mementos from dates, ticket stubs, and Polaroids. You’d not had time to pack most of these things. Instead you paid one of Claire’s staff members for it. You knew he’d get caught.

But you wanted these things….It was selfish. But your wedding dress hung in your closet, and you had three boxes of Claire memories…ok, maybe more.

But you found the small electronic, the thing you’d been afraid to turn on.

Your old iphone, you’d turned it off only an hour after you left.

It was the most tempting thing to turn back on. But you bought a new phone quickly with a new number, something Claire couldn’t hack or track.

But you stared at that phone so many times, wanting to turn it on, wanting to hear her voice.

You watched Claire on the news of course, but it wasn’t the same.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t use Claire’s face on CNN to cum at night. You didn’t want to, but it was the only way you could masturbate. To her blue eyes and piercing gaze.

You were sick.

Your marriage was toxic.

And you’d been good to run. Or so your first four therapists had said before you’d fired them. You felt raw, you couldn’t talk badly about Claire with someone. She was not good for you, but that didn’t mean you could sit and listen to someone talk poorly about her. Talk about your marriage like they understood.

No one would ever understand what happened between you and Claire.

Or how you ached still for Claire DeBella.

You held the iPhone in your hands, the tether to your old life. Every photo of your wedding and vacations, every text of ‘coming home’ and ‘I love you more than anything’, every voice memo while she was busy but had to tell you something. Your dirty home videos together while you cried for her to let you cum just put you out of your misery, they were on this fucking thing.

You set it on your kitchen countertop.

No. You were stronger than this. You’d just signed a lease, and you knew she’d find you in a month or two tops.

Well, not this time actually, because the Governor was in D.C. to prepare for the election to come. Claire would be too busy to hunt you down.

And so you’d returned to Connecticut, knowing she’d be in DC. It was the safest place to be now.

You’d gotten a job at your alma mater (and Claire’s) Yale.

You were going to teach Sociology, and you were really excited.

Sure you loved being Claire’s trophy wife, fuck was it nice to not work. You had gotten to do the community service stuff you wanted. You’d gotten to start charities and..well it didn’t matter. It would be good to teach.

So when your old professor, who is now on the board, reached out for a job offer. You’d been so excited you couldn’t believe it.

So you’d moved back to Conneticut in this shitty apartment.

You fell into a routine for the first two days. You enjoyed teaching again, even if it wasn’t perfect. You didn’t get close to any of the polite professors who wanted to talk with you.

You couldn’t be close with anyone, never again.

So it was no shock on the day you were feeling a little bit too lonely.

That you opened up a bottle of bourbon. And you thought about your wedding….

You don’t believe you even thought it through for a second.

But you turned your old phone on.

It had 40 voicemails, all from Claire, the box was full. You had over 2,393 texts from Claire. Over a hundred missed calls.

You knew what you wanted, though. You wanted that one video…of you two fucking that one night in Kansas City. Yeah, that was a good one. You were about to click on videos when your thumb hovered over the last voicemail.

What was the last thing Claire called and said?

You are drunk, this was a bad idea.

But you click on it.

It’s muffled for a minute, and you wonder if she’d not meant to call you, if it was her pocket or something. But then you hear her breathe, and you wait.

“I miss you so much.”

You gulp and tears you didn’t know you could still shed for your wife fell down your cheeks. It was so quick you don’t have time to shame spiral for your feelings.

You think that’s it, but she speaks the last thing you’d expect. The last thing you’d believe from her.

“I need you. I love you so much…You just..ran away. And now all I have left is the broken pieces of our life together.” Claire pauses in the voicemail, and you put a hand over your mouth so you don’t make noise. “If you were here, we could fight, but you didn’t even do me the courtesy of an argument…I just…

“Please come home. “ Claire says and the call ends.

You drank a lot more that night.

You did end up masturbating to multiple dirty home movies you two had made.

And when you wake up, you are so ashamed of yourself. You turn off the phone and pray that you didn’t just send up a signal for Claire to notice you.

How dumb you had been.

You’d gone to work that morning a little hungover.

Getting two coffee’s at your local shop, you were late for your first class.

You did your three lectures and showed your TA what you needed for the first big assignment. Bought a new set of post it notes instead of lunch. And made your way back to your apartment by four thirty.

You slid your key into the lock and opened the door.

You’d gone to toe your shoes off when your eyes snapped to the sofa.

Claire.

She look at you like no time had passed.

“No….No! This isn’t happening! YOU ARE IN DC! YOU CAN’T BE HERE!” You shout as you find your wife drinking white wine on your sofa like it was another weekday.

“Oh, come now, Mrs. DeBella, no kiss for your wife?”

Your fight or flight takes a minute to kick in.

“Hi sugar, I’m home.” Claire teases and raises her glass as if to cheers you.

Claire threw her keys onto the side table to prove that she in fact did have a key to your apartment.

Your mind reboots and you stepped back and grabbed the doorknob spinning around to run and three jacked secret service looking fuckers stood there.

They were quick, you hadn’t seen them at all in the hall.

“No more running, baby. Come inside, let’s have a chat.” Claire loudly slaps the leather sofa cushion next to her ass, indicating for you to sit next to her.

You slam the door closed in the Men in Black’s faces.

Fuck.

Before walking over and grabbing one of the two chair’s you’d shipped. It’s an old chair you bought antiquing with Claire. It had stayed in a random storage locker with the old sofa you’d owned in college. The one she sat on.

You prayed she didn’t recognize the chair.

And she obviously does, as she sips her white wine with an amused curl of her lips.

One leg thrown over the other, her stiletto in the air. Her dress is perfection and it costs more than you make with your new job in a month.

“Well, you seem to be enjoying Connecticut again.”

“It is where we fell in love.” You throw back, hoping it wounds your wife.

Claire smirks, and it’s cold as she sips her wine.

“Love, it’s good to know you still feel it. Still have the word in your vocabulary. You have been avoiding me dear. One whole year, two weeks, and four days I’ve been trying to catch you.” Claire tilts the wine glass in a circle. Memories of wine tasting with her in Napa come back to you, somehow she’d eaten you out while wine dripped down your cunt, Claire knew how to have a good time.

“Claire, what do you want?” There’s no fight in your voice. And she doesn’t seem to like that.

“No, I’ve waited a long time to talk to you, my sweet wife. And now that I have you, we are going to take our time. Have you eaten?”

“I-” You start, but she puts one hand out and waves you off.

“Let me drop the pretense, I’ve had you followed since the second you got here. I know you haven’t eaten, because I pay four different teams to take pictures of your every move. I know that you get your oat and honey shampoo, the same one I use, from the store on Third Street. I know you still have a double-shot vanilla chai latte like the ones I bought you in Dubai. I even know you went at exactly 8 thirty two am, today when you were late for work. I’m guessing a little hungover. That’s right, I haven’t slowed down. Your Mama hasn’t lost her touch. I also know that the thirty something red head slut who sells them to you asked you out. And I know you said you were married. But where is the very expensive ring, not on your finger?”

Claire’s words are commanding, just like her.

Your jaw juts to the side.

“Shall I assume that Wanda is dead and someone is using her body for filler in cement? Or is she going to be found burned up in some accident that happens to point the blame somewhere else?”

Claire laughs but doesn’t answer. And you take that as a ‘yup.’

“I missed you, you look good, sweetheart. This look reminds me of when I first met you. Though you did look better in the Louis Vuitton, Hermès, Chanel, Gucci, Prada, Dior, Saint Laurent, Burberry, Balenciaga, those little brands I bought for you.” Claire took a sip of her wine before humming and adding. “Your best outfit was naked in our bed, of course. Nothing else could compare to that.”

Claire is punishing you, the knife that slowly cuts always takes the longest to heal. This would be good. But it’s real agony, like she’s performing.

The door opened, and three waiters came in. They unfolded a table, draping a white tablecloth, and lighting candles. Claire just watches with a delicious grin as she takes another sip. The waiter holds two bottles of wine, and she nods to the left but doesn’t take her eyes off of you.

A man came out with two large platters. Claire continued to stare at you, but she flicked her wrist for them to leave.

She takes the wine, and you recognize it is an extra expensive one that she’d bought a vineyard out of for your wedding rehearsal dinner.

She pours your glass first, always a gentleman, and the light twinkles against the rim of the expensive wine glass.

Claire's eyes you with such heat, you try to remember you aren’t here for romance.

She’s manipulative, and she doesn’t love you, not in a good way. You are going to run the second she looks the other way.

Claire goes to her own glass nice and slow.

“Mm, I suppose it makes sense we break up over the bottle we promised to spend the rest of our lives with.” You muse.

Claire stops pouring and looks at you conflicted, before snorting in offense, finishing her healthy pour and corking the wine bottle.

“I think you’ve misinterpreted my dinner intentions, darling.” You notice Claire’s wedding ring sparkles under the romantic lighting. She hadn’t taken it off.

You take the glass to your lips, but speak first before indulging.

“What is the plan, then, Claire? You going to drug me and kidnap me?”

“That all depends on you.” Her voice is so serious, and you feel a cool chill. “Let’s eat, and then we can talk details?”

“No, Claire, you know me better than that. I want the rules out here. If this is a negotiation, then let it be.” You say and take a larger gulp. Claire laughs at you but reveals your dinner, she serves you with ease and domesticity. It’s your favorite Italian food from you’d wager from your favorite place. The bitch, it was what you ate on your first date.

“Happy wife, happy life I suppose.”

Claire gives you the fettuccine first, knowing you never ordered if for yourself but it was your favorite. You only got it on special occasions, anniversaries, valentines day, and today it seemed.

You felt like you were losing this battle already.

Claire takes a steak knife and starts to cut her meat.

You don’t touch your noodles, wondering if they’re drugged. Or even poisioned.

“What do you want, Claire? I thought you’d be happy. There’s no bad look here for you. Sure, you got a few paparazzi who wondered where I went. But you could easily slip a nice warm-blooded American with the right amount of education in my place. Someone who doesn’t think for themselves too often. Give them the correct lines on the teleprompter, teach them to host dinners, there are a million people who would jump for joy at that job.”

“No,” Claire says, and she holds out a bite of her steak to you on a fork. You scoff at her, but she lifts an eyebrow, and you can’t believe your body is betraying you. You lean down and take the bite off her fork.

This was one of your many traditions, the small idiosyncrasies that made a couple.

You had a million of them with Claire, and you missed every single one.

And you thought Claire would have forgotten them. But here she was, feeding you stake off her fork.

You’d joked the first time that Claire was like a lion going in for the kill. That she was a powerful woman out for blood. So of course, she’d take her stake rare, bloody. Claire had not taken offense to this at all. The Governor had told you that you were her partner, her queen on the throne, then. And if she hunted, well then it was only respectful to give the queen the first bite. You’d eaten the first bite of steak ever since.

Claire smiled at the memory you were reliving. You chewed and tried not to moan at how fucking good it was. You couldn’t really afford steak while on the run. You don’t know the last time you’d had it.

“What do you mean no?” You swallow the bite.

“You know me better than that. I know you know I’m running for Vice President.” Claire was setting the scene, and you were walking into her trap. And the worst thing is, all you could do was obey.

“It was in our plan, of course, I know.” You roll your eyes and drink your wine, not touching your food still. You lean back in the chair like you want to throw a tantrum and Claire just seems to find it cute.

You play with the napkin and place it in your lap, you just need something to do with your hands.

“Well, the head of our PR team tried to tell me to find a dumb replacement, like you just did. I reminded him that I am married.”

You chew your own cheek in anxiety for a moment. Before you guess where this night is going.

“But you don’t have to be Claire.”

Perhaps she had finally been ready for a divorce?

Claire’s face told you that wasn’t the case. As she used the big knife to cut her food. You wondered if someone would be wearing the knife by the end of the night.

“Oh, but I want to be. Oh, I get it, you’ve deluded yourself into believing that I am here to do… what exactly, darling?” Claire cackled and took a bite of steak while never leaving your challenging stare.

“Break up? Or maybe punish me? Dump my beaten corpse in some sex scandal? Then tell the world you are hard on sex trafficing. Oh, or maybe make it so I’m terrible and you tried to save me and work some story?” You think of angles but you are missing the big picture.

And it is clear from the sound coming out of your wife.

Claire laughs and drinks her wine. Almost like you’d just told the best joke at a gala.

“You always had a good imagination. But if you think back to our plans? All those nights wrapped up in bedsheets. Think now…I’ve always been honest with you.” Claire says, and she reaches across to your plate. She twirls the fat noodles and then holds the fork over your mouth. You want to throw your wine in her face.

Part of you still wonders if it’s posioned. But your choices are far and few. And the nagging part of you refuses to listen to reason.

The truth is you missed this.

Fuck, you are just as sick and toxic as her.

You bend forward and take the food into your mouth.

And if it is posioned it is a good bite to die on, you chew and you can’t believe how delicious it is.

“Good girl,” Claire tells you, and you press your thighs together. As you chew, Claire looks around the apartment. “It is a cute little place, I mean I bought it of course. I thought you’d gotten rid of this grimey sofa. But the chairs were nice to see.”

You cough on your food, and Claire beams at her ability to still surprise you. But she pulls the cloth napkin out of her lap and dabs your mouth until you push her hand away. You catch your breath and then glare at her.

“You!”

“The apartment, the job, hell, baby, I think I’ve been pretty good at setting your life up.” But she says it like it’s a challenge. You two loved to talk politics, of course you did. And you agreed on most topics, but not all. And If Claire got bored she’d disagree on a topic she believed in, in the comfort of your own home. Just to see how you’d fight back.

That look, is the same one she was giving you now. She just wanted a debate.

“No, you didn’t do this to set me up.”

Claire likes your answer.

“You are smart, always were, keep going, Mrs. DeBella.”

“You wanted to show me how quickly you could give me what I want..”

“And?” Claire looks like she’s about to reveal how she performs a magic trick.

“How quickly you could take it all away.” The last part made you feel a little sick.

This was all an illusion. You would never get to teach at Yale again. You’d never see this apartment again.

All of this was a lie.

Just to show you how far her reach could go.

Claire takes another bite of steak before she balances the knife and fork on the side of her plate. Swallowing she let’s you sit in your wallowing for only a second longer before she can’t wait any longer.

“You want it out in the open? Let’s negotiate then. I want to give you everything. You enjoyed our life together, the parties were droll, of course. But you were making a difference, we were climbing the ladder together. You liked the power. But it was really always the game of it, the sportsmanship. So you can pretend being a Professor makes you feel fulfilled. But you and I both know that sharing a cigarette in the middle of the night as we plot the fall of a Supreme Court leader is what makes you tick.” Claire says it and leans forward, and your eyes fall to her lips, and she smiles in victory.

The image of the seconds before dawn, where you’d fucked and made love all night. And then spent the last hours before light smoking a cigarette naked and deciding how you’d put beastality pornography on a public officials work computer…it was a form of intimacy you couldn’t ever replace. Claire would kiss your shoulder and neck as you spoke. And you’d pass her the cigarette and she’d push smoke into your mouth. And you’d share in your sin.

That was the closest you’d ever felt to another person’s soul.

Claire DeBella was your drug.

“So?” You can’t exactly call her a liar. You’d helped her end careers and frame innocent people.

“So your Dr. Vidal and I spoke.”

“Wow, you are truly vicious!” Not even a beat passes before you say it. But you are thinking of all the things you told your last therapist. You wonder what made Rio fold and tell Claire everything. Did she give your recorded sessions or just the cliffnotes? Did Rio need to be blackmailed or was it money? Or perhaps a favor?

It wasn’t shocking that Claire did it, it was….almost flattering. If it wasn’t so fucked up.

“Oh, baby, you have no idea what I would do to get you back. You have no idea what I’ve done to get this dinner. To have you here tonight with me by candlelight. I’ve waited over a year to sit across the table and tell you this.”

“Well, let’s get on with it then, so you can buy your next partner.” You look at the sofa for the divorce papers.

Claire snaps then, the vein pops in her forehead and her voice booms across the table.

“THERE WILL BE NO ONE ELSE! I WANT YOU!”

She stops and takes a breath through her nose like you’d taught her when she’d lose her temper. But you don’t let her calm down.

“Claire, you can’t be serious!” You almost laugh at the idea. Claire’s tongue pokes out between her lips as she gains her control back.

“I absolutely am. I’ve done terrible things to get you, and I won’t let go now. We are the same. I may be Frankensteins Monster but you will always be my bride. One cannot be without the other. You need me too.” Claire says like it’s romantic. She picks up her fork and knife once more to cut her food.

“Do you hear what you are saying?” You lean forward as if you are at a restaurant and about to tell her to go fuck herself for no one else to hear.

She can’t be serious.

“You are my everything!” Claire shouts at your whisper and drops her cutlery. Threading her fingers together and putting her elbows on the table. Covering her face in anguish as if this isn’t going how she’d liked.

“No, no, you have politics.” This was always a point of tension. You hated when she called you her everything. Scratch that, you loved it, but your lack of self confidence always hated it. Because Claire lived to destroy in politics, and yet she acted like she’d throw it away for you. It was a lie, just like everything else.

Her hands fall off the table as she regards you.

“The kill has lost all sport. It is boring without you. If I don’t have you at the top with me, then I don’t want it. I don’t want any of it.” Claire reached across the table and put her hand out, like she needed to touch you. Like if you felt her hand you’d believe her. You glare at the offending softness she is displaying.

It’s manipulative, you hear the doctor saying it in your mind. You always cave from her touch, you won’t give in now.

“You don’t mean that.” You sneer.

“Oh, I do.” The Governer retorts but retracts her hand. If she feels stung by your rejection her poker face doesn’t let it show.

“Claire.” You bite your top lip like you just don’t know how to get out of this spider web. Not when Lady Spider herself was spinning the web faster than you can think.

“I love you.” Claire’s voice is strong and sure. It makes your heart ache. But you refuse to let her draw you back in. This was a strategic move, nothing more.

“No, you don’t, you love power.” You correct her and she gives a disappointed look before disagreeing with you. Her painted nails ball into a fist on the table.

“No baby, I love you. And I’ll prove it for the rest of my days. I can be so good to you, you know that. We were good together. People called us a power couple, but they had no idea, did they? I crave you, I have gone absolutely mad in your absence. I love you baby girl.”

You wish that didn’t make you feel so good.

“Claire.” Everytime you say her name, you want to follow it with ‘I’m leaving and you are sick and twisted.’ But it gets stuck in your throat.

“Here’s what I propose. You come home.”

The term home made your stomach flop. You missed home. You hadn’t felt at home since the night you snuck away.

The candle flickers and the light in the room is so dim now, no sunlight.

No light outside at all, you felt like your life was quickly changing and you were in the audience unable to tell the lead character to not go in the basement. Not in her thin white shirt and panties, don’t go towards the killer with no weapon.

“That’s not much of a negotiation.” You tell her, because it feels like Claire is just playing with her food now. Claire’s body responds to you, as if she feels like this is flirting now.

You aren’t sure if she’s right or wrong.

“You aren’t holding much of a good hand, dear.”

Those words bring you back, Claire wasn’t here to romance you. She’d always gotten what she wanted.

“You can’t kidnap me.” You say it like you have to. Like if you say the words maybe she’ll hear it and think it’s ridiculous. Then she’ll feel shame at even having the idea. But you’d both orchestrated kidnappings for far less important reasons.

Claire’s left hand turns into a claw on the table. Dark red nails pristine.

Her fingers drum on the tablecloth like she’s considering how to move on the board next.

But Claire is always honest with you, she finds it refreshing to not have to lie.

“You are mine, I can do whatever I want, in fact. So it is up to you it seems. Personally, I’d just rather you naked, wrap in fur and diamond rings. I can see it now, just as you were. Legs wide open for me in front of a fire. I want you and I’ll leave politics, I’ll leave DC or Connecticut. I’ll beg, borrow, and steal.”

You are both quiet for a second.

The memory of Rio’s words sing in your ear once more. ‘Don’t play her game. You have control over your own choice.’

So you say what you know anyone else would in this moment. Not what you want to say.

“You are crazy if you think this is going to work. That I’ll just roll over and show my stomach for you again.” You push the food towards her the expensive plates and cutlery clink, and she doesn’t flinch.

Seeming to figure you’d act out like a child.

“I am crazy.” Claire agree’s but she continues;” I’ve killed for you. Can your college girlfriend Jenny Barkley say that? Can your Ex Wife Maya Mason say that? Can anyone claim to do anything for you the way I do? I’ve tortured and murdered innocent people for you, and I’ll do it again. Without a single hesitation. And you, your hands are just as dirty as mine. I’ve seen what you’ll do for me, you’ve ruined people before having your morning coffee. You didn’t even blink before sending them to their doom. Just to see me succeed to protect your wife.”

Claire says it like it’s romantic.

You wish you felt guilt. You couldn’t even tell Dr. Vidal all of that. It was horrible, but you had…fun.

“That was before, I’m not like that anymore.” You stated what you told yourself in the mirror every morning. When you missed it.

Claire scoffs like you are being silly.

“No one will ever love you like I do, the way you crave love. No one will understand your mind the way I do. And you know it, but I won’t let you have a chance to find out. You ran for a year, I was careless in giving you any freedom. Never again, that is the last time you run from me.”

You wondered if this is what Clarice felt like looking through the glass at Lecter.

“So what, do I get a tracker under my skin? You're gonna have a security team on me at all hours?” The idea made you wet. Fuck you needed to get out of here.

Claire pretended to mull this over. Tongue going over the front of her teeth as if she’s really considering it.

“The tracker under the skin is a little too Fahrenheit 451, don’t you think? No, I like the other option.”She says like she didn’t prepare for this. On how she’d keep you in a cage.

“I’m going to have a 24 hour security detail.” You repeat it like the court needs to put it on record.

You wonder if Claire had ever taped your conversations. Just in case, in case you grew a conscience. In case you ever wanted to turn her into to the authorities. But you realize Claire had enough to end you. And perhaps she liked playing with the idea that you loved her more than you feared her.

“No one would think anything of it. You are the vice president's lady. I want you safe. No one will know I’m keeping you safe from yourself as well.” Claire looks up like she’s brilliant. Like she was inventing a new thing right here.

“Wow, so this isn’t a negotiation. This is a terrorist list of demands” You state it and you feel the need to be a brat.

Claire laughed and then let out a high pitched noise. It wasn’t her warm laugh, it was the one she used for people in politics she was about to destroy. You were in her cross hairs.

“Everything is a negotiation, baby, you know that. I taught you better than that. You are too smart to play dumb. So you can pout like a brat at the dinner table, you know how I adore breaking your bratty attitude. Or you can tell me what you want. And we can really talk.”

“I want to be rid of you.” The lie stung in your mouth. Almost like a nun in catholic school had used her ruler on you.

Claire doesn’t laugh now she regards you like one does a horse in need of breaking, and then puts the glass down.

“Try again.” She holds more patience in her tone, but you hear that it is empty.

“I mean it, my consent matters, no?” You know it doesn’t but Claire enjoyed the illusion. So she played along with your coyness. Her face was clearly

“Of course, if that’s where you want to go with this. Let’s try a different method. Why my shampoo?”

“What?” You hated that she knew that. She’d gone through your fucking apartment and found your secrets.

“You don’t love me, remember? So why our college? Why my shampoo, why do you keep your wedding dress hung up in your closet? And why did I find this?”

Claire throws your wedding ring in the box onto the dinner table and the plates clatter under it. She’s smiling with that feral look now.

Checkmate mother fucker.

“That’s the proof I want you still? Oat shampoo, a job you manipulated me for, and the fact I didn’t throw out some jewelry?”

You are lying and Claire doesn’t believe it’s coy anymore, she finds it irritating. So she grinds her jaw. She was fine with you being a brat it seemed, but not with you lying.

“You really want to play it this way? I come in here with dinner and wine. I try to be romantic, and you want to do this. You need to play dirty, honey?”

You hadn’t touched your fork. Only the bites she’d fed you, the wine wasn’t drugged you realized which was wild. Maybe Claire thought you’d go with her willingly.

“I don’t want you.” You repeat.

“Ok,” Claire takes a deep breath and tries to calm herself down, “You are coming home tonight. I have changed our security protocols. You will sleep next to me tonight and for the rest of our long lives together. Now, can you guess what comes next?”

You study her, and then it dawns on you.

“I’m not pumping out four kids for your stupid campaign to look better on posters!” You snap, and Claire doesn’t budge. She doesn’t react to your harsh words.

“You and I will have those four children we planned, not because of a menial campaign. But because we had a life planned together, we will have it. Now I’m going to give you a chance to live out the rest of your need to be a brat. But once we leave this apartment, you will remember who you are. You are Mrs. DeBella, and you are all mine.”

You can’t believe her.

“You actually think you love me? You know we are so toxic, why would you want any of this with me?”

Claire for the first time looks actually hurt by your words. You want to feel victory, but it doesn’t reach the parts of you you’d hoped it would. And as her jaw sets like an injured soldier, she says it low and slow.

“You must be joking.”

As if you are the one being unreasonable now.

“I’m not Claire.” You tell her, because you don’t want to believe her. She wanted a possession. You were bad for each other. At least that’s what the doctors told you. And you tried to remember it now, as part of you desperately wanted to take it aback.

To crawl into Claire’s lap and kiss her face. Ask her about her day and let her fuck you until all her stress was gone.

Claire scratches her nose, then presses her lips together in a thin line before her attention cuts you down a peg.

“I love you more than anything. I’ve been tracking you down for a year to get you back. I watch our wedding video every fucking night and drown my sorrows with bourbon, I can’t sleep. I’ve fired more people for saying your name in my office than there are assistance in D.C. I’ve tried to chase my sorrows with your old negligee and some sleeping pills, no luck. I can’t think, I can’t focus on my campaign or… I can’t do my damn job. Or even fucking cum in the shower. I haven’t cum since you left. You think I don’t love you? You think we are toxic? You know what’s toxic? Toxic is you waiting until I’m asleep and leaving me in MY SLEEP! You couldn’t wait until I was awake? Of course not! Because you knew I’D FIGHT FOR YOU!”

Claire grabs her empty wine glass and throws it against the floor and it smashes and glass flies everywhere. You gape in awe at her.

Not realizing a small pieze cuts your arm.

“You don’t know the depths that I would go for you. But you fucking will. You broke my heart. So no, I won’t be hiring a stand-in while I run for VP. Because no one will ever stand next to me, but you. You’ve scorched the earth with the memories of you, and I will never be happy again. You are my world. You are my fucking disease.” Claire says, and you can’t breathe.

“Now let’s try this again.” Claire points her finger at you menacing,ly and you don’t back down, but your hands shake under the table, “What do you want?”

You lick your lips and try to think, how will you defuse this. Claire waits for you. But she’s rabid and she speaks out of turn.

“You want an island? I’ll buy it, it’s done. You want to open a charity for fucking sexually limp sea turtles, I’ll give you three billion dollars right now. What do you fucking want?” Claire said, and you couldn’t believe it.

“You’ll never let me go, huh?” You said and pushed all the morals you’d work hard for this last year away.

“Never,” Claire shrugged like ‘it couldn’t be helped.’ “It’s out of the question.”

And you knew that Claire knew you would never make a fool out of her on stage. It wasn’t your style. You scratched the back of your neck.

“I want…I want power again. I want an in on your power plays.” As you say it you can’t help but feel alive again.

Claire’s face says it all. She’d won.

“Done.”

“I want you to take a weekend off each month, no phone, no emails. You have to buy that house along the Caribbean I wanted four years ago. I get full access to open as many charities as I want. And I want to buy that publishing house. The one for queer authors.” You couldn’t believe yourself, and Claire was nodding so obediently at the idea.

“I’m yours and it’s yours. Whatever you want.”

Perhaps Claire was lying, it seemed you had a pretty good hand. Or maybe not, but you had more power in this discussion than you realized.

You were Belle getting the library but still in a haunted castle with the Beast.

“I know what else I want.”

Claire tilted her head, in wonder.

“Get on your knees.” You said, and Claire’s mouth fell open just enough for her to take a heavy breath.

She was always a top, well, not today. Toda,y she would beg. You wanted her to break under you.

“Is that what you want?” Claire asks as if she’s making really sure. But she throws her napkin down onto the table and pushes out her chair. She unzips the dress, and it falls. You see her cock is semi hard already, no underwear or bra on. But she comes around to your side of the table and she drops down hard to her knees.

You lift one foot with your heel onto her shoulder, and she watches eagerly as your long skirt rides up.

You easily pull off your thong and throw it behind you.

Claire’s head goes down to lick your cunt and you slap her hard across the face. Claire’s face turns to the side at the strength.

“You fucked me up! You ruined my life! And you think I’m just going to be a good little wife? Fuck you Claire!” You snap, and Claire’s glare that she turns on you is wicked. But you take your right hand and open your pussy wide for her to see.

“I loved my life with Maya. And you ruined everything. I was happy you know.”

The words are meant to hurt and you see it devastate Claire.

But you touch your clit now and Claire’s face changes quickly.

You see the red handprint across her skin, and it gives you a rush.

She goes again to lick, and you slap her with your wet hand, arousal filling the air. It glistens on her sharp cheeks.

“This game can only go so far for you.” Claire growls, and you shake your head.

“No, I want you to submit. For once in your life, I want it to be clear that I bested you. That you lost the battle even if you are winning the war.” You tell her, and Claire’s face is that of sexual frustration. Like a teenager begging for release.

But you bring your fingers to your hole and you start fucking yourself fast. Knowing it was Claire’s favorite place in the whole world.

“That’s my cunt you are touching, You are in for a world of hurt little girl.” Claire growled, and you took your hand out and slapped her again. And she made the angriest noise in her throat.

“You submit, that’s part of our deal.” You tell her, and something in her face shifts, understanding. She’d gone to Yale, Claire knew how to study for an exam.

Her arms locked behind her back, and she let her cheek rest on your bare thigh. Close to your cunt but not touching.

You’d never seen Claire submit before, and it was making you feel in control, which was all an illusion.

“You know I did this all the time. I fucked myself without you. You are so desperate for it aren’t you? Tell me Claire.”

Claire moved to rest her chin on your thigh and look into your eyes.

“I’m mad for you. I will humiliate myself for you. I am nothing without you. I am lost, a complete mess. You own me.” Claire said and it was so needy that you almost stopped fucking yourself from the words.

“Fuck!” But it feels good to touch yourself and you hadn’t been this turned on since Claire was your bedmate every night.

“You could do anything to me. Whatever you want. You can piss on my face and film it. You control me, baby. I just want you. I just want you. I’ll do anything. Just for a second in your cunt, just for one lick. You can ruin me, baby. ” Claire chants and you hate how quick you are going to cum. But it’s impossible not to.

Claire opens her mouth and sicks her tongue out but doesn’t lick. Just to show you how low she’ll go.

“Fuck Claire fuck!” You are losing your resolve. Claire closes her mouth to say more, knowing her words are what is making you cum, not your hand.

“I’d let you use the strap in my ass in front of all my candidates. Put my cock in a cage. You could invite all of my cabinet, all of their wives, your colleagues and students. I’ll get on the kitchen table and you can fuck me until I pass out. Then you can draw nasty words on me. I’ll be your whore, you own me. Ruin me, baby. I deserve it don’t I?” Claire says and you are so close as you fuck your hole.

“I love you. Be toxic with me, Mrs. DeBella. Fuck yourself, punish me. You know how much I hate not getting to touch you. Punish me! I LOVE YOU!” Claire chants intensely and it helps and you cum around your own fingers and then you accidentally fall onto the floor. Off the stupid chair.

You shouldn’t jump when hands grab your hips but you do.

You took a ragged breath and Claire flipped you onto your back.

“Did you have fun?” She asks and her voice doesn’t even sound like she’d done anything at all.

Your eyes open quickly in horror to see that Claire isn’t even fazed. She was playing pretend the whole time. And you’d bought it. She was topping you from the bottom.

“Fuck you!” You snap, and Claire laughs and pins you under her body. You try to wiggle free, but Claire just giggles.

“I know I know but I got you good.”

You slap at Claire, but she pins your arms. Then she kisses your jaw.

“I know you want to hate me. I actually thought you did for a minute…but you don’t. You still remember our first slow dance. You kept the locket I bought you on our first Valentine’s Day. You think this is toxic? I get it. It’s not perfect. I’m being blackmailed by a billionaire, I know it’s not sane. I pulled string in your life to trap you here…but baby.” Claire says and pulls back to look at you.

“Can you really say you didn’t miss me? The way we loved, the way I love you. That you don’t love me still? That you don’t want me?” Claire said it, and you saw her fear clear as day. And your face broke.

Fuck.

You craved Claire DeBella.

Her fucked up way of love. Who knows, maybe if your parents had held you more or not filled your life with trauma…maybe you could have met someone nice and settled down.

But she was right, you lived for manipulation and sinister ties. You missed blackmail and fancy dinners where you pulled strings. You helped get laws passed by your midnight schemes with Claire.

This last year had been…so bad.

Boring.

You hated yourself for admitting it…..you were looking at the Joker…and you wanted to jump in the vat. You would poison yourself for her. You would help her deranged plans… you’d always be her harlequin.

Claire knew you well enough to read you.

That’s when she shifted and you felt her cock press against your entrance and it dawns on you.

Claire had manipulated everything, and it made you feel at home again.

But you’d been out of her loop so long, you’d gotten lazy, sloppy.

And you’d let your guard down…you also hadn’t been sexually active…so..You’d not taken birth control in four months.

“Claire wait-” You are about to tell her. But she knows, of course dhe does.

“I know baby, I checked. No birth control in the whole place. It’s like you wanted me to bring you home.” The top Claire’s veiny cock rubs against your slit.

You get wetter, from the contact and the threat.

“Claire wait!” You shriek but she puts one hand on your throat.

“You were so sexy in control, you took what you wanted, I love that about you. But hon, I’ve been doing it so much longer. I’ll let you do it again, though. We made a deal after all. I keep my promises. Like how I promised you four children. Well maybe we’ll have more, but at least four. No birth control, and you can imagine why I won’t be wearing a condom.” Claire teases, and she feels you gush this time and looks down between your bodies. You feel Claire’s dick strain and twitch against you at the heat and wetness of your pussy against her.

“Claire fuck-” You hadn’t been fucked since the night you left. You want to tell her to go easy on you.

This was so fucked because you used to pretend this in bed. You’d beg her not to impregnate you and she’d push her cum inside of you. It was your own little power game. One you both loved that you’d always lost.

“I know we used to play this. But here’s the day now. Negotiation over, and so is play time. It’s time for me to breed you. Who would ever vote against our nice little family? And you’ll stop running from me. And you’ll be round and swollen from my seed. I can’t wait to put our kids in private school.” Claire said and her hand started to teach your clit. Mostly, she just missed the feeling of her fingers getting messy inside of you.

You were hot and sticky just how she liked.

“Oh fuck-” you don’t know why you aren’t telling her no. Or rather you know why. You want this.

You want to be pregnant from Claire. You have for forever.

And you want her to make you stay, to own you.

God you needed a new therapist.

Your eyes roll back as she rubs under your clit hood.

But Claire grabs your jaw to make you look at her again.

“You know what, I know you said you don’t love me anymore. But I wanted to ask you something?”

You looked at her, scared and confused.

“If you didn’t want me to find you, to catch you…why in the world did you turn your old phone on, baby? Was it the video? The one where I told you I’d gotten you pregnant?”

Your face turns beet read and Claire loves it.

She’d guessed it first try…

“Holy shit, I am right. I didn’t think I would be. Yeah, that’s my favorite one too. Let’s do it now, let’s play Mommy and Daddy. You always liked that game. Who shall I be tonight?” Claire sounded so excited like this was christmas morning.

You bit your lip til you tasted blood.

You loved when she played with you, her dirty words drove you to hours of orgasms.

Her body is so good against yours.

“Claire-” You gasp as she rubs your clit and you feel your orgasm. But she spits in your face, and it lands on your mouth.

You missed this.

“No, call me by my name.”

“Please damn it..fuck me!” You hate yourself for breaking, but you can’t stand it anymore.

If Claire wanted to kill for you, to be toxic and deplorable. Who were you to say no?

Claire leans in and bites your neck and you already feel the bruise. Before she turns back in triumph.

“I thought it would take at least another two orgasms before you started begging.” She loves to demean you, and you gush from her words. You loved her praise but something about her humiliating you made you cum the hardest.

“Please please please, I’ll be yours. I promise.” You want to cry.

Surrender never felt this good. Your red flags were going off but your need to cum was too strong.

Claire’s cock is moving on its own against your pussy. Like it wants attention and you two were ignoring it.

Claire moves her hands to your white blouse and whe rips the fabric and then breaks the front clasp of your bra.

Before she bites your nipples like she wants to draw blood.

You wiggle underneath her and moan and gasp. Not sure if you want to run anymore, or ever again.

Claire chuckles and you want her inside of you.

“I can’t tell who’s happier, me or my cock.”

“Please go inside, I need it!”

“Dr. Vidal told me you know.”

You should be scared again, but something about Claire going to all this trouble to stalk you…..it made you feel wanted. Oh god, that was wrong.

But you sorta..liked it.

Claire must sense that because she keeps going.

“She told me you used to masturbate to me. Naughty girl, you know I never let you touch yourself without me. But I do like the idea of you so needy and only able to get off when you watch me. That’s what the Doc said, you only could cum from CNN clips of me. That warms my heart.”

Claire is making you a moany mess.

You gasp and grab her biceps and squeeze.

“It was pretty cute when you tried to dominate me, I think I’m a good actress don’t you? Not as good as that actress you have a crush on…what was her name?” Claire moves her hand to your opening and thrusts three fingers inside, she hits your cervix and you quiver in pain and ache, you want it to be her cock. “What was her name?”

“KATHRYN HAHN!” You shout, knowing she was punishing you more. And if you behaved, you’d get your reward.

“Oh that’s the one, remember when you told me that. Do you remember what I did?”

How could you forget?

“You used the flogger on my back for three hours..you fucked my ass on the kitchen table…and I wasn’t allowed to cum.” You gasp and you remember the whole thing.

Claire’s breath was hot against your skin. You felt your bodies grow a little sweat and it was fucking erotic.

“That was such a small punishment. What do you think I’ll do to you if you run from me again?”

Images pass through your mind so fast.

You shiver in fear and arousal.

“You are mine. If you want to see the sunlight again, you are going to have to earn it. Do you understand?”

You know she means everyday, you’ll have to prove you won’t run away. Claire had endless abandonment issues and you’d made it a million times worse.

You nodd and Claire is so delighted when your hand wraps warmly around her cock.

“I taught you well.”

She says and you know just how she likes her cock held, sucked, and tugged.

You stroke Claire, and she tries her best not to buck her hips into you. Her cock feels so good under your hand. She’s so hard it must hurt.

She’s all control all the time.

“After you left…I pulled all of your dirty panties out of the hamper and i fucked every one of them. But I haven’t cum in so long, how much semen do you think will fill your womb? You think I don’t love you? I’m in ruin for you.” Claire says, and you don’t know what about all of that makes your heart bust open but you surge forward and kiss her.

Claire moans happily and she pushes your hand away and pushes her cock into your cunt and you gasp and break the kiss.

“You are a good girl.” Claire is on cloud nine.

“Fuck me Daddy! I want it. I want a baby, don’t stop until I’m pregnant.” You cry out and you wish you weren’t so desperate. But you were, for Claire.

Her cock stung and stretched you but you just kept gushing around her.

Claire grins in delight at you breaking down so easily for her.

She hadn’t even needed to spike your drink.

You never even bought cutlery for your apartment, never got to teach again. You also never slept alone again.

But you are pregnant before Claire runs for office. But with you by her side. You tell her to make the change, and she agrees. She switched her campaign to President.

Claire never loses.

AO3

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femsolid · 2 months ago

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Some crazy french scandals you've probably never heard of:

In 2023, a senator invited an mp to his apartment to celebrate his election. He went to the kitchen alone and put GHB in her drink. When he came back he was acting weird and urged her to drink it fast. When the drugs started to take effect, she thought she was dying of a heart attack and he tried to calm her down, but she ran from the apartment and called for help. She was taken to the hospital and he was later arrested. He claimed that he didn't mean to put the drugs in her drink, he was doing a magic trick and the drugs fell into her drink by mistake. On his phone search history the police found that he had been reading about rape drugs. The trial hasn't happened yet, so for now he's still working as a senator and has refused to step down.

In 2024, it was revealed that children were being tortured and raped at a catholic school for decades. The french prime minister was made aware of this in the 90s and did nothing. He is now being investigated by the parliament. He was questioned for more than 5 hours (it lasted this long because he refused to give a straight answer) during which he spent most of his time insulting leftist MPs and pretended to be the victim. The investigation is still ongoing and more than 45 children, now adult men, have come forward. The video of him slapping a little boy while visiting an impoverished neighbourhood resurfaced. While questioned by the parliament he explained that the boy was trying to steal from him and that sometimes hitting a child can be educational. Hitting a child is illegal in France.

2018: During the yellow vest protests, policemen were routinely brutalising, maiming and even killing people. During a rally on may 1st, a policeman was filmed beating a woman and then a couple. However, on closer inspection, it was revealed that the man was impersonating a police officer and that he was president Macron's close friend and bodyguard. The police let him borrow their uniforms and helmet to beat up protesters.

It was also revealed that he was unduly authorised to carry a gun, to use a car paid by the government, and to own a badge authorising him to enter the parliament despite not being a member. He was sentenced to 1 year of house arrest wearing an electronic bracelet and 2 years of suspended sentence.

In 2025, Marine Le Pen, the popular leader of the french neo-nazi party was convicted of embezzlement. This was estimated to have caused a loss to European funds of 4.8 millions of euros.

She was accused of having hired fictitious assistants when she was a member of the European Parliament. In reality, they were working for her party. The court found there was “no doubt” about the existence of the scheme. She was sentenced to a five-year ban on running for public office with immediate effect and two years to be served outside jail with an electronic bracelet.

Let's talk about the left a little bit. The leader of the french left is so agitated and emotional he's an infinite source of memes here.

However, in 2018, things took a disturbing turn when more than 100 policemen, and a few prosecutors were sent to his home at around 7am, armed and with a warrant to search through all his belongings. They also visited a dozen of his coworkers all at the same time, in what appeared to be a very well prepared sting operation. The reason was unclear, though there were suspicions of embezzlement. It was something we'd never seen before in France, in terms of police deployment, and it seems excessive, especially given the fact that nothing came out of it.

However, that's not what people remember from that day.

During the policemen's search, the leftist leader, joined by other mps, became very angry as they were not allowing them to be in the room and witness the search. He screamed a lot, got in their face and was so upset he shouted weird things like "I'M the republic! Don't touch me, my person is sacred!!!" (which have become catchphrases in France) and "break down the door comrade!!!" which made the media talk for days and speculate about his mental state.

The policemen pressed charges against him, one of them stating that he was on sick leave for a week and had to get psychological support because he had nightmares after being shouted at by the leftist leader who responded that he probably shouldnt be a cop if he was that fragile. He was later convicted of "rebellion" against a police officer and had to pay 8K to the policeman. He also got 3 months of suspended sentence.

Obviously I should finish with Macron:

In 2018, a young horticulturist told president Macron it was difficult for him to find a job. Macron told him that all he had to do was cross the street and work as a waiter. In 2016, a unionist criticized him and Macron responded "You don't scare me wearing a T-shirt! The best way to buy yourself a suit is to work." In 2017, he stated: "When you go to the train station, you walk by people who succeed and people who are nothing." In 2018, when everybody became aware that his bodyguard had been impersonating a police officer to beat up protesters, Macron responded to the french people with "Come and get me!" In 2018, he said: "People who are having a hard time financially need to be more responsible. Some are doing well, but others are fucking around." In 2019, he said he was unhappy that yellow vest protestors were being invited to speak in the media: "Jojo with his yellow vest is considered an equal to a minister or mp!" During the yellow vest protests, a middle-aged woman who was just standing there and holding a peace flag was charged by the riot police and left unconscious on the ground. The whole scene was filmed and photographed. Macron said it was her fault for being there and told her that "she should be wiser in the future." However, the police chief responsible for the attack was later convicted. In 2024, when actor Depardieu was being investigated after being accused of rape by several women, Macron stated that Depardieu was a fantastic actor who made France proud and that he wouldn't participate in this witch hunt. In 2025, Depardieu was convicted on two counts of sexual assault.

In a book written by 3 journalists, they quote Macron as saying about the state of french hospitals: "the problem with emergency wards is that they are filled with Mamadou!" a blanket name he uses to call black men. Three weeks later, he told several african governments who had expelled french military from their countries that they forgot to thank France. He explained that the only reason african countries had their sovereignty was because of the french army. He added "it's okay, they'll thank us eventually" to which the Tchad foreign minister responded that he had a "contemptuous attitude towards Africa" and added: "we don't have a problem with France, but french leaders need to learn to respect african countries and their sovereignty." Macron also called the people of Haiti "complete cunts".

In 2017, he visited Mayotte, a french island, and joked that their traditional boats mostly served to fish immigrants. A few years later, when a typhoon hit that same island and killed several people, leaving the rest without drinking water and living in slums, the people of Mayotte were angry and desperate by the lack of support from France. Macron came to visit them, got angry and screamed: "I'm not responsible! I'm not the typhoon! You're complaining but you're quite happy to be french! If you weren't french you'd be 10 000 times in more shit! Yes I'm angry! Because you're disrespectful!" In 2017, he visited another french region, the french Guyane where people were on a strike. Indeed, people were complaining once again about being left out and living in poverty. Macron talked to the media and said that all the strikes needed to stop because it was "preventing the island from functioning." Problem: the french Guyane is not an island. It's situated on the south american continent between the Surinam, Brazil and Venezuela...

That's all I have for today! I hope our misery was entertaining. As a bonus, here is Macron getting slapped by some random french guy:

Au revoir.

#france #french #le pen #macron #mélenchon

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charleslee-valentine · 8 months ago

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I’ve spent a long time now sorting through screenshots, behind the scenes footage, designers portfolios, and I think I’ve deciphered the map of Ambrose.

Starting on the left side of the street, there’s a hardware/outdoor store, noted by the wheelbarrow outside and assorted parts on the shelves.

Connected to that is a small plaza with a Dentist’s office (the window stickers mention denture prices), a diner with outside seating, and what appears to be a bar judging from the bar stools in the window. It may be connected to the diner.

Finally for the end section of the strip, this shop is less clear, but based on the sign that ends in “-ium” and the button tufted display, I’m guessing this is a premium/high end store or some kind of emporium.

Directly across the street from that is a club. The window faces the street, and around back is the entrance. Also in this plaza is the pet store Carly walks to, a drug store, the grocery store (Flannery’s) that Nick goes to, and a barber shop.

Crossing the street again, there’s a large bowling alley.

Surrounding the bowling alley are residential homes as it transitions into neighborhood territory. You can tell from the fences around these homes that they aren’t public property. The one directly next to bowling lanes is the green house that the wax woman looks through the window of.

Crossing the street again, this part was already labeled by the lighting plot, but that’s the garden (really just some dead shrubs and a gazebo,) the cemetery, and the church. There’s also a second building on the church property that shares the same sidewalk. Although it looks completely nondescript, buildings like this connected to church property would usually be used for non-worship activities like Sunday school, community events like meetings, or funeral services (though Trudy’s viewing is right in the main church, so that’s less likely.)

With the church as a reference point, going back down the opposite side of the street, there’s what looks to be some kind of fashion or accessories store. In the window, I see wig heads wearing hats, and maybe some shoes. I found a sketch of a storefront that also reminds me of perfume bottles and shoes, so the idea was at least considered.

Obviously as the two buildings have back to back doors, next to this is the Guns & Ammo store that Nick and Carly break into. This also connects directly to the movie theater.

The theater is also connected to a small electronics store on the other side.

Directly across from that would be Bo’s gas station. There’s a huge advertisement right next to the station for financing loans, but the front of the building it’s painted on shows its a media video/music store. (ps the yellow truck Vincent drives is the “company” tow truck for the station.)

Connected in a plaza with the video store is a dry cleaner and, based on context clues, a furniture store. In the possibly furniture store window, there appears to be rolled up rugs or carpets, and a large wooden shelf. The strange point of view of the shot where these shops are visible seems to imply that the businesses once had apartments over top, or at least that things are being hoarded in the upper floors.

Across the alley street from that is a fire station, connected with city hall. This is where the Miss Ambrose posters were displayed. On each side, there are blue garage doors, possibly with more emergency vehicles for the town.

The House of Wax and the Sinclair house are placed at higher reliefs than the other businesses and homes, symbolizing their importance and once, their wealth and celebrity status.

#analysis #reference #house of wax #house of wax 2005 #bo sinclair #vincent sinclair #lester sinclair #these pictures. are so blurry. I enlisted help in identifying some of these because damn. I’m too blind for this #BUT I’ve always been confused about Ambrose so #hope this helps anybody else on the planet as much as it helped me

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midnitetech · 4 months ago

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Game Developer Career (Semi-Active)

Hi everyone, I've completely recreated my old Game Dev career from scratch!

Now your Sims can dive into the world of Game Development with a 10 level semi-active career that blends creativity, coding, and caffeine-fueled all-nighters!

💾 100% Base Game Compatible: No packs? No problem! This career is fully playable with just the base game, and includes work from home assignments, custom uniforms, interactions and chance cards!

🖥️ Semi-Active Gameplay: Work from home or head to the office! Complete tasks like coding, debugging, and researching industry trends to help your Sim climb the ranks.

🎨 Official The Sims 4 Concept Art: Every Game Asset Design your Sim sketches on the Digital Sketchpad features real concept art from The Sims 4! Your Sim will be creating actual designs from the game’s development history!

📈 Level Up from QA to Creative Director: Start as a lowly tester and work your way up to running the show, unlocking new interactions, bigger paychecks, and the occasional existential crisis about whether this game will ever ship on time.

🎲 Chance Cards & Career Surprises: Will your Sim take a risky new game pitch or play it safe with a sequel? Industry twists and turns make every workday unpredictable.

Whether your Sim dreams of launching the next Blicblock blockbuster or crafting an indie masterpiece, the Game Developer Career is their gateway to gaming greatness. Get coding, get creative, and prepare for crunch time! 🚀

⚠️REQUIRED⚠️ 🌐Lot 51's Core Library 📁midnitetech_modlibrary

Get help, reach out, or explore more of my creations—all in one place!

Download to C:\Users\....\Documents\Electronic Arts\The Sims 4\Mods Don't forget 🌐Lot 51's Core Library and 📁midnitetech_modlibrary—script files must be no more than 1 folder deep.

PATREON (early access until March, 29th 2025)

#ts4cc #ts4 cc #ts4 mod #ts4 career #ts4 careers #ts4 custom content #ts4 career mod #the sims 4 custom content #thesims4cc #ts4 download #ts4 mods #ts4 cc download #the sims 4 cc #thesims4 #the sims 4 download #the sims 4 #the sims 4 mods #midnitetech career

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chilling-seavey · 6 months ago

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Timeless (Formula One) —MASTERLIST

↳ Contains: F1 Grid

↳ Concept: Take a step back through the 20th century with these mini-fics! Each standalone piece focuses around one F1 driver based in the year of their drivers number.

↳ Note: Each fic is vastly unique so please read the individual warnings (if any) before reading. These are NOT "reader insert" or "ship fics". These are just short and for fun, like little slices of life. I hope you enjoy! + I removed some names that were close in numbers that felt too repetitive so the entire grid isn't included, but a good most of them...as well as some familiar faces making a come back :)

1902 — Logan Sargeant As the son of a governor, Logan's life is meticulously planned out for him. Yet all he wants to do is be like the other young men paving their own ways in the new century.

1904 — Lando Norris With London still filled with horse-drawn carriages, Lando's most prized possession is his brand new Ford Model C...and he plans to use it to his advantage.

1910 — Pierre Gasly France is working on developing aviation faster than humans can even comprehend the idea of flying. Pierre is eager to help in testing.

1912 — Kimi Antonelli Leaving Italy behind with nothing in his pockets but 5-pence and a steamship ticket, Kimi has his sights set on a new life in America.

1916 — Charles Leclerc In neutral Monaco, Charles is watching the Great War unfold from the newspaper. Life feels so normal but nothing is normal anymore.

1918 — Lance Stroll The Canadian army gave almost a million souls to the Great War. On the morning of November 11th, the shelling stops and Lance struggles to adapt to the silence.

1923 — Alex Albon Prohibition opens up a whole new world of underground speakeasys in the roaring 20s. Alex is the proud owner of the best whisky in town. On the downlow, of course.

1931 — Esteban Ocon The Great Depression hit France later than most countries but it's impact didn't feel any easier. Esteban is trying to keep his family from crumbling.

1933 — Max Verstappen The rural lowlands just outside of the city were home to rebellious young men who fixed up their road cars to race down dirt roads. Max is the best of the bunch.

1944 — Lewis Hamilton As a commanding officer in the Second World War, Lewis finds himself grappling with the guilt that comes with wrong-calls and the heavy loss of life on his hands.

1955 — Carlos Sainz A crime occurred at the local drive-in: a young woman murdered behind the roaring soundtrack of the newest film. Carlos, the town's best detective, is on the case.

1963 — George Russell Attending a Christmas season dance, George expects not much to come of it. But a beautiful stranger catches his eye and, together, they have the night of their lives.

1977 — Valtteri Bottas The vibes of the 70s thrive in the behind the scenes parties in the Formula 1 world. Even elite sportsmen like Valtteri cannot turn down good fashion and good drugs.

1981 — Oscar Piastri One afternoon, a very displeased customer and her deep-rooted belief in the Satanic Panic visits the video rental shop. Oscar's not paid enough for this.

1987 — Ollie Bearman The mall food court is the place to be after classes and university freshman, Ollie, finds his groove right in with the crowd.

♡ Enjoying my content? Support my writing here :)

♡ None of the original writing on this blog may be reproduced, reposted, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.

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luvyeni · 2 years ago

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❛1-800-SERVICE ME❜ ( z. chenle )

p. ceo!chenle x toplessmaid!reader w. 2.6k+

— 𖦹 warnings. small age gap ( reader is 23 and chenle is 26 ), fem!reader, oral ( m. receiving ), unprotected sex

— 𖦹 ( instead of giving chenle his normal maid cleaning services his assistant gives him a surprise for his birthday ) !

Chenle was a busy man —being the CEO of the top electronic company in Seoul, he didn’t have time to do things, like clean his condo himself, which is why he got his assistant and friend jaemin to schedule maids' services to come do it for him.

“Happy birthday boss man.” Jaemin met him at the elevator, his coffee in his hand. “How are you feeling this morning, the big 26.” He took the cup from the boy, taking a sip. “it’s a regular day for me, meetings, answering calls, meeting with investors.” He said as they walked through the office.

“Yeah, but now you’re a year older.” Jaemin followed behind him into the office. “So i’m closer to thirty, big whoop.” He sat in his chair. “Such a downer, anyways what are you doing later, for your birthday?”

“I’m going home jaemin, that’s all I want to do.” He said, it wasn’t that he didn’t like to party, but he was always so busy, and the only thing he wanted was to get off early and go home and rest. “I want to order some food, drink a cup a whiskey and then crash in my bed.”

“No fun.” Jaemin said, “You’re gonna die alone at this rate.” Chenle shrugged. “Jaemin go prepare for the meeting and leave me alone.” He spoke. “Just trying to help.” The boy said. “That is helping, go.”

“Fine, fine, i’m going.” He said making his way out the door, only to turn around. “What now?” Chenle sighed. “I just wanted to tell you that the maid service you like was closed down, so I chose a new one, they’ll be over later today.” He nodded looking at his computer. “Good, now go.”

Chenle finished his day early, most of his meetings were canceled or rescheduled — so why not get out of here. “Going home early boss?” jaemin asked. “Yup, i’ll see you tomorrow.” He said, jaemin yelled before he got on the elevator. “don’t forget, the maids' services will be there later on today!” Chenle didn’t notice the mischievous smirk that was evident on his assistant's face.

Chenle got home, sitting his briefcase down on the kitchen table — making his way into his bedroom to change his clothes, exchanging his black Prada suit, into some comfortable sweats and a white tee short.

He found a nice Chinese restaurant, picking up his phone, ordering his favorites, it would be an hour and a half wait but he was willing to wait, it would give him enough time to pour himself a drink and wind down some.

He set off the the kitchen, pouring himself his most favorite expensive whiskey in a glass with a huge ice cube, taking a sip, humming in delight — this was looking like his best birthday in a while, just peace and quiet.

His peace and quiet was soon disrupted by his buzzer going off. “That was fast.” He said, “I thought it would be an hour and a half wait.” He pressed the intercom button. “Hello?” He spoke through the microphone. “Oh hello.” A soft voice came through the intercom. “You can leave it there, someone will be down to pick it up.”

You were confused, “Are you not Zhong Chenle?” you were sure this was the address, had you gotten it wrong? “T-the maids services.” Chenle forgotten about that. “Oh yeah, i’m sorry about that.” He hit the button. “You may come up.”

This was a nice apartment, you’ve only been in this line of work for a few months, but most of your clients were rich so you’ve seen a lot of nice houses and apartments — but this was the nicest you’ve ever seen, this guy must’ve been really important.

You made your way to the apartment, sitting all your supplies down, knocking on the door. “Coming.” You heard his voice, then the door unlocking, swinging open revealing a tall guy, he was cute, dressed in the sinful, grey sweats, white tee shirt combo. “Hello.” He spoke.

“Oh h-hi.” You waved, “Mr.Zhong?” you asked, he smiled. “Call me chenle, come in.” You whispered his first name, picking up all your supplies, following him into the apartment. “You can start in here.” He pointed to the kitchen. “Okay.” You said, sitting the supplies down, reaching for your black trench coat, untyping the belt, revealing your baby pink lingerie.

“The bedroom isn’t that bad, i mean I only use it for sle- whoa!” His eyes widened as you reached for the back of your bra. You stopped, looking at him. “Would you prefer of I kept it on?” You questioned, but that was the furthest thing on his mind. “Why are you wearing that?”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “The email said that’s what you requested, is this not the shade of pink you like?”

“N-no it’s very pretty- I mean- never mind that, i’m talking about why are you wearing lingerie?” He said, trying not to look at you, fear of a law suit. “And why are you trying to take it off.”

“It’s just the bra.” You said, he couldn’t understand why you were so calm, he was freaking the fuck out, who did jaemin call. “Plus, it’s part of the services.” You explained. “Service?” He questioned. “Yes, the topless maid services— topless, maid sorta the whole thing.”

That cheeky fucking bastard, he was gonna kill jaemin tomorrow. “I’m sorry, this is all new to me, my soon to be ex assistant hired you, it’s my birthday today, and he has to be over the top.” You nodded. “It’s okay, we can cancel the services if you’d like.” You were sweet, you stared at him with wide innocent eyes, you’ve must’ve been new to this.

“No.” He said, “No it’s okay, just shocked me a bit, you can continue.” He spoke. “You sure sir, I would hate to ruin your birthday with such an inconvenience.” He ignored the way his cock twitched when you said sir. “Who am I to stop you from doing your job, you may continue.”

You nodded, “okay.” You said. “Would you like for me to keep the bra on?” he shrugged. “Whatever you feel comfortable with.” You hummed, his eyes widened as you reached behind, unlatching the hooks, letting your bra fall into your hands, your boobs perky the air from the condo had your nipples pebbling — fuck he was getting hard.

“May I start sir?” He coughed; he loved the way sir just fell from your lips. “Um sure.” He said, you began your job, starting with the kitchen like he told you, he watched from the other room, he gulped watching as you washed the dishes, you weren’t even doing it sexy, he was just being a pervert, wishing the water would spray on you, or a little bit of soap would get caught on your boobs — he felt like a virgin seeing a pair of tits for the first times.

You made your way into the living-room where he was sitting. “You need me to leave.” He still didn’t understand how this worked. “No, the whole point is for you to watch me.” You said, chuckling. “And you clean my house naked?” He said, you nodded. “Topless, not naked.” You corrected, he nodded. “Right topless, and you get paid a lot for it – i’m sorry i don’t mean to pry.”

“It depends – if you have a lot of clients, you get paid a lot of money, and your tips, if you’re asking if I get paid a lot personally.” You reached up dusting his fireplace, giving him a peak of your ass, he palmed himself, stopping when you turned around. “I am able to live way more comfortably than someone my age normally does sir.”

He was gonna burst if you kept calling him that. “A-and how old are you?” You smiled, you could tell you were effecting him. “I’m 23 sir.” You bent down, you heard him sigh.

“What about you sir, how old are you?” He coughed again. “Me? Oh, i’m 26.” He wasn’t that older than you, you hummed. “And what do you do?”

The sudden turn of questions stumped him, especially since it was hard not to stare at your boobs. “I-i’m the CEO of sm tech company.” So, he was a huge deal, that explained the nice house.”

You nodded, getting back to work. “That’s so cool, i’ve never worked with a CEO before.” He smiled, you were cute, had this freshness to you, it was quite the scene change from all the corporate girls he met. “I guess.” He spoke.

You eventually moved to the other rooms, cleaning and tidying up everything until you were done. “You did such a good job.” You smiled. “You did better than any maid i’ve had come here.” He spoke. “Are you saying that because i’m topless?” You were a tease. “Well, i’m mean that is a plus, but you’re also a good cleaner.” He spoke. “Good job.”

Fuck he was really turning you on, your tried to ignore the feeling in between your legs, trying to remain professional like normal, but you were only human, and you could literally see his thick cock stiff in his sweats, begging to fill your mouth. “How much do I owe you?” He asked. “Oh no, I was paid already.” He nodded. “Well then a tip.”

He reached for his wallet, pulling out 5 hundred dollar bills. “Here.” He handed it to you. “This is such a generous amount.” You said. “Well I said you did a good job.” He smiled. “Take it.” He said, pulling at your waist band, putting it inside snapping it, normally that was a breech of contract, and you should’ve called him out for it, but he was fucking hot, and you were horny, you couldn’t help but whimper.

“You liked that princess?” He smirked as you nodded. “Y-yes sir.” He could feel a groan bubbling in his throat. “Fuck princess, you keep calling me sir, it’s getting really hard for me.” He spoke, his voice low. “I’m sorry sir.” You smiled. “Oh, you’re a tease, princess I could do so many things to you.”

Fuck you wanted to drop to your knees so fast. “Sir you know there’s no touching in these services.” You teased. “Yeah, but I don’t see you stopping me, you must want me to touch you.” His hands crept up your waist, you sighed. “See princess, you want this just as much as I do.” He pulled your body flush against his, pulling you into a deep kiss, pulling away. “Fu-fuck my cock is so fucking hard right now.”

You guided him to the couch, pushing him down. “Let me help you.” You sunk to your knees, right in front of his cock, biting your lip, looking up at him. “It’s your birthday after all.” He nodded, you grabbed his waistband, he lifted his hips up allowing you to pull his sweats down to his ankles.

You freed his cock from his underwear, his thick cock springing up, hitting his abdomen. “You’re so big.” You grabbed the base, kissing his tip, he hissed. “So heavy.” He groaned as you sucked on his tip. “Fuck princess, take it into your mouth.”

You engulfed his cock, he moaned out, throwing his head back against the couch. It had been a while since he’d been giving a blowjob, and the the way you were sucking him, hollowing your cheeks, deepthroating him like your life depended on it — he was gonna blow his load.

You worked your magic on his, looking at him through your lashes. “Sh-shit princess of you keep sucking me like that, i’m gonna cum in your mouth.” You released his cock with a pop, stroking it. “That’s what I want.” You kept stroke. “Cum in my mouth sir.”

You took him back into your mouth, deepthroating him. “Fu-fuck, fuck.” He moaned. “Im gonna cum, gonna fucking cum down your throat, ngh fuck!” you felt his cum hit the back of your throat. “That’s it, take my cum down that pretty throat.”

You took him out your mouth, giving his tip a few kisses. “You taste so good.” He groaned; your panties were soaked through, desperate to feel his cock in your cunt.

“Wanna ride your cock.” You climbed into his lap, your pantie clad cunt, sitting directly on his cock. “Fu-fuck, gonna take my cock?” He brought his hand down to your ass, slapping it. “Fuck yes.” You moaned. “Wanna ride it so bad.”

“Fuck.” You were killing him, all he wanted for his birthday was to have a peaceful night in and a clean house — now he has all that and a pretty girl ready to ride his cock.

“Take your panties off, leave those pretty thigh garners on.” You stood up, pulling your panties down your legs, giving him a nice look at your ass. “Fuck, sit down.” You straddled his lap, hovering over his cock. “Mmh, fuck!” you moaned, sitting down on his cock. “Your cock is so big.”

You bounced up and down, his cock stretching you out. “Fuck princess, keep bouncing, fucking taking my dick like a good girl.” He moaned, you grabbed his shoulders to steady yourself, “S-sir.” You moaned, he slapped your ass. “Fu-fuck!” You screamed. “That sir word is gonna get you fucked dumb baby.” He growled. “I want it.”

He planted his feet, fucking up into your, your moans became high pitched, chenle’s neighbors probably heard you, but you didn’t care, not when you were about to reach your high. “S-sir.” You spoke. “Sir i’m gonna cum.” He grunted, grabbing your boobs. “Fuck me too, cum for me princess, cum all over my cock, so I can cum all over those perfect tits.”You screamed, thighs shaking as you coated his cock in your cum. “That’s it -fuck- cum all over my dick.”

“Fuck.” He cursed, he was about to cum, he could feel it. “Fuck get back on your knees, i’m about to blow my load.” You got up, sinking back down on your knees. “Stroke it for me.”

You took his cock into your hand, stroking it, he moaned out. “Fuck!” he groaned. “Fuck I’m cumming, I’m gonna cum.” He moaned, cum spurting from his cock, landing on your boobs and on your lower chin. “Sh-shit.” He breathed, watching his cum drip down your chest, coating your nipples. “So pretty.”

He scooped up some of his cum from your nipples, pressing it on your lips — you took his fingers into your mouth. “Fuck good girl.” You sucked his fingers cleaned.

You chuckled taking in everything that just happened. “I’ve never did that with a client before.” You said, chenle chuckled. “Guess i’m special.” You excused yourself to use his bathroom to clean up, putting your panties back on, and your bra, ready to leave. “Here.” He gave you an extra 200 dollars. “Think of it as a birthday present.” You said.

He nodded, “well then hand me your phone number, so can schedule another appointment.” You smiled, “You’re supposed to book me on the sight.” He rolled his eyes. “Stop being such a tease, i’ll book you on the stupid site, but your number is if I want a personal type of service.” Your smirked, writing down your number. “Here.”

You put your jacket back on, grabbing your cleaning supplies, he walked you to the door. “Happy birthday sir.” You said kissing his cheek, before walking away down the hall. “Shit.” He closed the door, sitting back down on the couch.

His phone rang, he answered it, jaemins voice rang through the phone. “So, did you enjoy it?” he rolled his eyes. “Next time, give me a heads up.” he said. “Did you like it?” He bit his lip. “I should fire you.” The boy laughed. “I see you had a good time; I hear the happiness in your voice, I won’t ask questions.” jaemin teased.

“I know you’ll be booking again though.”

©️LUVYENI

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