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onelittlespiral · 19 days

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FML: Break

It had only been a few weeks, but already I was over this. Three weeks to crush a dream. Honestly, the burnout had been bad but I thought summer would help. I would have more time to myself. Relax. Reset. But as the first deadlines started breathing down my neck, I was this close to snapping.

The longer I stared, the more I couldn’t take it. I needed a break. Something to take my mind off things. Even if just for a few days. I needed Hypnodope.

I first came across their ads freshman year, and I dared my roommate to take the plunge. Their website had a few options, so I popped on a random one, and input one hour, the lowest it went. I just expect it to be a one hour loop of weird mumbling and graphics that we would turn off after a minute or two. But I watched in awe as in a few short minutes, a tan started creeping from his finger tips down his arms. He didn’t react then, nor when hair turned a dirty gold and his body hair vanished. But he certainly did as muscle began pumping into his thin frame, moaning as each pulse stretched his now golden skin taut to his muscular frame. He began to hump at the air as he ripped through his clothes, giving me a full view of his rod between his legs, though it was quickly covered by his thick fingers as he began jacking off to the video. By the time he finally came, my roommate was no longer sitting in front of me. Instead, a horny, golden boy was eying me up and down, as he assessed whether or not I was worthy to suck his perfect cock.

He put in the work for that hour, no position off limits, no taste of his too bold as I submitted to him. But just after our second round, he trembled as his skin lost its hue. His muscles were sucked back into his frame, and my new roommate was back, blushing in front of me, as he rushed to put on some clothes.

I hadn’t been back to the site since then, a little too self conscious to explore the power I possessed. But after a night in the library from dusk to dawn, with no end in sight, I knew it may be the only way to force myself into a break. With caution I pulled up the site and scrolled the options.

I knew I didn’t want anything too serious. Certainly not the extent that my roommate had. But I wanted something that would take the edge off. And I think I found the perfect one: “Fucking Feral, Bro”. The name was a bit much, but it had basically everything I wanted. More muscle, boosted stamina, lowered inhibition and capacity for concern. I figured a few hours would be enough to try it out and have a great night out. So, I laid down, turned on the video, and prepared to be relaxed.

Almost immediately my brain felt fuzzy, like the static that was showing was in my head. Then, an image came into focus. It was some muscled up guy, stripped down to his speedo, not a care in the world as he posed for the camera. He looked like he was having fun. I wonder where he’s going? Must be relaxing…

I stretched out on my bed to get comfortable. For some reason I was just so tight. So uptight too. I didn’t need to be so stressed. A pressure I didn’t know I was holding was releasing from my head. It was so relaxing as I just lay back and stared deeper and deeper at the spiral now on screen. I could be just like the guy on the screen. No.

Like. My. Broooooo.

My hand drifted down to my cock at full attention. I didn’t even pause as I felt the heat radiating from it. My had just began gliding up and down. It was insanely sensitive. I bit my lip to keep the moans from escaping. As I stroked up and down, I felt it pulsing in my hand, swelling from five inches to six, then seven, growing more sensitive with each stroke. My toes were curling in my shoes, but soon felt constrained. I looked down to see the cheap leather straining to hold them in. With one flex of my foot, my size 12 soles ripped clean through. Meanwhile, my legs were getting some love, calves shredding while my thighs swole with muscles and fat. They squeezed against my heavy balls, increasing the raw animalistic pleasure I was devolving into as thick pre dribbled from my thick mushroom-tip and coated my monster.

By the time I started to worry a bit, it was too late. It was becoming hard to focus on my body, even as my gut sucked in and pushed out a perfect 6-pack and pecs chiseled from muscle and fat hung heavy on my chest. I could only focus on the changes rippling down my arms because the pump in my forearms was keeping me jacking and my thick fingers and calloused palms were much easier to wrap around my needy cock. I tried to stop myself, to will myself to turn off the now strobing screen. But the sensation was too much, and I could no longer hold back moans that were quickly deepening.

A fog of hormones was fully engulfing my brain now, dimming any reservations I could muster about my heightened state. I was moaning in heat at this point, ready to bury my cock in just about anyone. The video was edging me now, pushing as much change as it could before it released me. Every muscle in my body flexed, getting one last pump in. But as the video gave its command to cum, one pump was all I needed to coat the wall. I was left hot and panting, but somehow relaxed and insanely horny. As I checked myself out, dude I was sooo much hotter.

I let my free hand trace my abs and grab at my meaty pecs. Playing with my nips was like a whole new level bro, sent me into overtime. I couldn’t stop imagining the holes I needed to split open with this monster, just as I couldn’t stop just flexing, feeling the power surging through my veins. It was almost impossible to pull my hands away, but I knew I needed to hit the bars and get a few drinks in me. Bro, what was old me thinking, setting this for only the night? He was always such a bore anyways. I threw on the tightest tee shirt I could find, and some grey sweatpants. Rocking the fuckboi special, I was on the prowl for some ass to plow.

The night wasn’t great. Naw, it was excellent. Climbing back into my dorm room, I was soaked in sweat and reeked of sweat, beer, and cum. I had lost track of how many men I’d made my bitch that night. I at least remembered ripping off my shirt before sliding into one in the alley outside. God, I was a fucking show dude. Should have seen the faces of some of the dudes, I don’t think they were expecting me to switch so easily from topping to bottoming. I was an animal, I was feral.

I was out of control.

I may have been fighting through that horny haze, but I knew one thing for certain. In just a few hours I would wake up in my bed and immediately worry. Worry about the night, the consequences, the danger. And I would never get to have that much fun again in my life. Bro, it was so damn boring being such a square. Someone had to make a decision.

I turned back to my laptop and began scrolling through options. I needed someone like me, someone who would make sure we had a good time. I needed someone to maintain this lifestyle for years. Maybe we could make some physique upgrades too. But above all, I needed someone who couldn’t ever find a way to set us back. And there it was, the perfect candidate. As I added more and more time, some stupid warnings tried to pop up, but I didn’t care. I was already hard at just the thought of the bro I was about to unleash. I hit play and braced for impact. I was going to be so fucking dumb, dude.

The effect was immediate. My eyes were blinded by a bright flash on screen as a dull ringing buzzed in my ears and rattled my head. The world around me felt heavy and slow. Every muscle was on edge, trembling beneath some unseen weight. The world was pushing in around me. I was frozen in a moment of pressure. But then, at the front of my brain bro, it was warm. And tingly. And soooo relaaaaxed. As it rippled through my head, I couldn’t help but relax my face, eyes half closed, tongue out, drool drip

Drip

Dripping.

With each drip, it felt easier to relax, easier to thaw. And as I let each IQ point drip slowly out of my brain, off my tongue, and roll down my chest, I felt the waves crashing down my body.

It started in my shoulders, rolling into mountains of muscle, absurd in size even against my muscular body. But quickly it moved deep in my chest, pushing out from deep within my pecs. The sensation was overwhelming as with each strained breath muscle and fat hung heavier from my frame. I could even feel it as my nips stretched, wide and hard as diamonds. My arms began to loosen and instinctively brought themselves to massage my fat muscle tits. But soon they had to pull away, locked in a double-bicep pose as they inflated to near absurd proportions. As I flexed my forearms in and out, I felt the resistance growing as my biceps rolled back and forth. I was starting to truly feel hot and sweaty as the waves of muscles continued to ripple downward.

I could feel the heat as it started targeting my lower half. No longer toned muscle, it felt heavy against the bed even as I sat there. It throbbed as nearly any remaining fat on my body channeled into my ass, leaving it straining against the seams of my shorts. They were growing bigger by the minute. Though my cock and balls were certainly trying their best to compete. As my pouch was slowly becoming overstimulated by the pressure in their tight quarters, my cock was snaking down my leg to find space. I was ineptly pawing at my zipper, trying to find some release. But the final blow came as my thighs pushed out. The legs were busting through seams as I finally gave up and ripped through the remaining fabric, fervently stroking my heavy cock. Then it too started to drip…

Drip…

Drip.

As my cock began oozing, I felt like brain was slowly melting down. My thoughts felt heavy. I knew that the video was giving me commands, but I couldn’t even try to process them. I could only feel them slip deep in my brain bruh. I could feel him in there. Some version of me trying to keep it together. But he was getting real confused. And really horny. Heh, he was becoming just like the rest of me. Wasn’t it easier to just let my muscles talk? Wasn’t it easier to just feel out what to do? Wasn’t it easier to just give in and… and… be… duhhhh-

Can’t think. Gotta release. My balls are aching dude. I can’t hold onto these brains any more. I need it… I need… au… AUH… AUGHHHH

As the last of my brains shot out of me, I was left in a state of absolute happiness. No thoughts. No worries. Just heat and muscle. As the last of my brains shot out of me, I was left in a state of absolute happiness. No thoughts. No worries. Just heat and muscle.

I was perfect bro. The world came into focus as I sat up. I didn’t even realize my tongue was still hanging out.

It was a beautiful day outside, bruh. I just needed to find a hole to start it off with.

#fml #dumber tf #hypnosis #jockification #growth tf #bro

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mysicklove · 1 year

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𝐒𝐎 𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋

DAY 12: SOUNDING

With: Keigo Takami (Hawks)

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: Sub! Hawks, gn! reader, sounding, HEAVY sub/dom spaces, hints of sado/masochism, mentions of anal fingering, keigo crying and twitching, cursing, pee/urine mentioned throughout

A/N: This is one of those smut fics that are heavily unrealistic (which i LOVEEEE), keigo says some cringe things at some points tho. LOL

Keigo has such a pretty face. People stop and stare at him on the street, he has been recruited by multiple modeling companies and is lusted over by teenage girls all over the world. Born to be nicknamed, “Pretty Boy”. It was cute, really, and he seemed to love the name.

But to you, he doesn't look his best when he is photographed in lewd poses, or when the media catches the way he looks at you, or even with his candid hero photos that are unbearably hot.

No, to you, Keigo looks his absolute best when he cried. Of course, not from sadness, from pleasure and pain. When his face is flushed, his eyes are hazy, and tears coat his cheeks. When he looks up at you in pure adoration, and trembles under your hold.

But that was the sadistic side of you talking. The side of you who wants to completely ruin the man. It's hard not to when he looks so pretty during it.

So, slowly you've been finding new ways to wreck him and with each one, he reacts perfectly. You've gotten addicted to it. Him, really.

Tonight you are going to try sounding. You stare at the small metal rod, and then back to your lover, who is leaning against the headboard, and trying to act like he is not completely terrified. He gulps when you peer at him, straightening his back, and trying to uphold his cocky grin.

“You're scared, aren't ya?”

He scoffs, looking away. “No. I'm the one who asked for this, why would I be scared?”

As much as you like ruining Keigo, Keigo loves being ruined. You have to keep a close eye on him because he swears he has no limits and has not used his safeword so far. Everything is on the table for him, and that sometimes worries you. You've held down your desires but he voices them and is the one to beg you for more and more.

Urethra play was not something he has tried. “Mhmm. It will be fine, we will go slow,” You reassure him despite his words. You place a comforting hand on his thigh and he sighs, smiling at you softly.

“Yeah. It'll be fine. You're right.”

Horrifying is the best word to describe what's in front of him right now. The “thin” rod is now lodged halfway into his urethra and he's panting out, thighs trembling. It doesn't exactly feel bad, but it's foreign, and the sight in front of him makes him uneasy. Nothing is supposed to go in that hole.

He's gripping onto your hand for comfort, eyes wide as saucers. “We aren't even all the way in yet, Keigo.”

He whines out at the words, resting his head on your shoulder. Sweat beads at his forehead and his face is flushed. “F-Feels so full.”

You teasingly tap on the rod, and his back arches, wings fluttering out at the strange feeling. He grips your hand and stares at you, silently pleading. “Sorry. Forgot. Let's put it all in, yeah?”

“Dont–Dont know if I can.”

You stroke the bottom of his shaft and smile at him. “Got plenty of room still. It's supposed to touch your prostate, y'know.”

Yeah, he definitely knew that. For the last couple of days, he researched the ins and outs of this. But still, he doesn't know how the hell it could go any deeper. He feels overwhelmingly stuffed even from half of it being inserted. He gulps and glances at you, but nods.

“Take a deep breath for me, Keigo. Promise it'll feel good in a bit.” You're right, and he knows it. Just like when you fingered him for the first time, it feels weird in the beginning, but now he's addicted to it. This could be a new thing to drive him mad. He sure hopes so.

He takes a deep breath, and you slowly continue to inch it in, letting gravity do the most part. The road is slippery from the lube and it goes in without much difficulty.

Keigo on the other hand is going insane. He is moaning and whining, gripping onto the sheets with such force that you are afraid he is going to rip it. You watch his arm muscles clench and unclench, and he throws his head back. “Oh. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” He cries with every second it goes deeper.

You hush him, using your other hand to stroke him gently, hoping to coax it in. His squirming makes it harder, and you don't want to hurt him, so you try your best to pin his hips down beneath you so they won't jump up.

And at last, it reaches the bottom. You pull away and look up at him. Keigo is trembling, back arched pornographically, and staring at the ceiling with an open mouth. Tears drip down his cheeks, and his legs are trembling, bent, and spread wide. “All done, it's all the way in now. Shhh, just gotta get adjusted to it.”

He shakes his head and lets out a cry, “Fuck. It's weird. Feels so weird! Full–I cant–”

You lean forward to press your lips to his, cutting his frantic rambling off. “Keigo, do you want to use your safeword?” You ask, just for reassurance.

He shakes his head frantically. “No! Wait! I-I never said I didn't like it!” He pleads desperately to you, even if you haven't tried to make an effort to remove it. His mind seems to be scattered, but this is how he is when he usually tries new things in bed. Today, just a little bit more extreme, considering you haven't tried anything even close to this.

“What does it feel like, Birdie?”

He takes a deep, shaky breath. “Feels full. D-Different type of full. It's weird. And it also feels like I gotta pee a little bit. But in a good way? It's all so weird and overwhelming, Y/N!”

You gulp, watching the way his eyes move around frantically. The way his body is bright red, and he's staring at you with desperate eyes. His mouth is glossy, and his eyes are wet. This is your favorite face of Keigos. This is what you have been wanting to see.

The urges get the better of you. “I'm going to move it now Keigo.”

His eyes widen, and before he can even protest, you move it upward, slightly. His back arches again and he gasps for air. “O-Oh–Its–Fuckkkkk.”

You push it back in completely and he keens, gripping onto your hand with wide eyes. A loud, desperate whine is let out, and more tears stream down his face. He's withering under you, and you can't help but stare at his pretty physique. “Are you oka–”

“Again!” He sobs, legs moving sporadically against the sheets.

His words make you gulp. He's falling into that state again. The one where his only task is to get himself completely fucked dumb. He doesn't want to think about anything except his pleasure, and frankly, his adorable facial expression is pulling you into your very own state with him.

You lift the rod up, farther than last time, until more than half of it sticks out. He stares at it, panting loudly and waiting for you to push it back in. It makes his adrenal pulse, and his mouth begins to water.

You don't tease him too long, and abide by his wishes, pressing the full thing in until it reaches the very bottom of his cock. He moans this time, enjoying it more with every second. Tears continue to fall, but he can't pay attention to them, instead focused on the feeling of being so full. If he had a toy in the other end, he surely would have lost his mind. Next time, for sure.

You continue to bring it up and down and he gets louder and louder with each stroke, not caring for whoever hears him. He is feeling such intense pleasure, everyone should hear his cries. Or at least that is what he believes.

“So cute. We found another hole for me to abuse, yeah Keigo?” You purr, eyes traveling up his shaking body with hunger.

He nods his head frantically. “Yes. Yes! Please fuck it more, I'm begging!”

You stop for a moment, a teasing gleam in your eyes. “Want me to fuck your pee hole? How lewd, Birdie.”

But to your dismay, he isn't responding to the teasing as you hoped. Instead, just agreeing with every word, too lost in the subspace to really care for how dirty your words are. “Yes! F-Fuck my pee hole. Need it. S-So full!”

You don't mind your failed attempt, now staring fondly at the pretty boy in front of you, who is completely out of it by now. It usually takes him longer to get to this state, and it was intriguing that this little rod had such a huge effect on him.

Your pace is quicker, and you use your other hand to stroke him off. His mouth hangs open, and drool begins to bead at the corner of his mouth. Every breath is a high-pitched, airy moan. It's adorable, really.

You watch his thighs start to clench and you raise your eyebrows, knowing that he's going to cum sometime soon. When you glance back up at his face, he's staring back at you, sniffling gently, but his eyes are full of adoration.

“C-Cum? Please?” He is struggling to speak, and you can't help but take mercy on him. He was so cute not to.

“Sure, baby. You can cum,” You coo, leaning forward to kiss his abdomen. He lets out a whine in thanks and nods his head.

A couple seconds go by and his breaths become quicker, louder too. His toes begin to curl, and he grips onto the bedsheets. “N-Now!” He begs, and you quickly take out the rod for him to cum.

White liquid flies out and falls onto his stomach, and you continue to use one hand to stroke him through it all. He takes loud gasps and lets out a loud shaky moan, and then another equally loud and high in pitch. His body constricts in odd, but cute ways, and he clenches his eyes shut, causing more tears to fall down his face.

You sit and admire him, only stopping your hand movements when he lets out a broken sob at the feeling of overstimulation.

A couple seconds go by, and you hum quietly, waiting for him to talk. Depending on what he says will determine if he wants to keep going or rest. The ball is in his court.

It doesn't take him too long to decide, obviously still in the subspace, but willing to communicate.

“Wanna. I wanna. H-Hey, why did you stop?” He complains, whiny and dramatic. You raise your eyebrows at him and bark a short laugh.

You aren't even surprised at this point. So, you pick up the rod again, and he stares at it, like a dog to a bone. He grins, the smile fucked out, and lazy. “Feels, so empty. Put it back, pleaseeeee!”

When you plunge it back in, he almost cums again on the spot.

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uzurimisery · 10 months

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chapter 1: the setting. / coriolanus snow / nsfw

Watching TBOSAS rekindled my love of this series and Tom Blyth makes young Snow sexy.

wc: 4,422

waring: smut, misogyny, dubcon, toxic relationships, snow is insane, not beta read

AO3 version here | Series Master

“You’re to take Y/N to the gala and after that the two of you will begin a show of courting for the Capitol to watch.”

Coriolanus Snow found you to be a thorn in his side. An unknown variable. You were wellbred stock, perfect for carrying on a bloodline, but somehow you were as disgraced as those from the Districts. Even before the war had started and ended Coriolanus found you insufferable. Too aggressive, undisciplined, and unpredictable. He liked reading people, at this point he’d say he could read others better than they could read themselves. But you were a blank slate. Wellbred, well read, and well insufferable. The only reason he even pretended to care about you was who your mother was.

Dr. Volumnia Gaul was more of a creator than a mother. Mothers cared and nurtured their children with love and compassion, two emotions Gaul was incapable of. Funny considering she was once an obstetrician. It was there that she had been introduced to your father, another prominent Capitol resident, and had you. She liked you, surely, often willing to give you more grace than others for their mistakes, but love would be going too far. Perhaps her being your mother is why Coriolanus liked you even less, you had all of her traits he disliked the most.

The Snow family had always been led by men, a tradition passed down from father to son, an unbroken chain of masculine dominance. But the Gauls were different. They were led by women, strong, capable women who defied the traditional power dynamics. And you were no exception.

You were determined to prove yourself, to carve your own path, to become a leader just like your mother. You fought Coriolanus head-on, challenging his every suggestion, even when you knew your opposition was futile. You were a master of manipulation, using coercion, leadership, and cunning to bend others to your will. Even Coriolanus, the shrewd and calculating Snow, found himself falling prey to your machinations at times.

You had convinced two of the most desirable women in the Capitol, Persephone Price and Iphigenia Moss, that he was in love with them both. For a tense month and a half, they waged a bitter war for his affections, making his life a living hell right after he had returned from District 12. It was as if you simply enjoyed watching the chaos you created, relishing in the discomfort you inflicted upon him.

Coriolanus couldn't deny his grudging admiration for your skill. You were a force to be reckoned with, a whirlwind of ambition and cunning.You were a puzzle he couldn't quite solve, a challenge he couldn't quite overcome. And that unsettled him.

"Dr. Gaul," he began, his voice laced with scepticism, "I hardly think that I am the most suitable companion for your daughter, even if just for show.”

A sharp, echoing cackle escaped Volumnia's lips, sending a shiver down Coriolanus's spine.

"Oh, Coriolanus," she drawled, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "my dear star pupil, you underestimate your own abilities. You are the very person I need to keep that girl in line. Plus she makes you look like a more viable successor."

His jaw tensed.

“I hardly think that if you couldn’t control her I could.”

“Control is a fickle thing Mr. Snow,” Volumnia did not even turn to face him as she stared down into a microscope. She turned a dial to clarify the view before then adding liquid, some sort of acid from the smell, and stirring the plate with a glass rod before continuing.

"Y/N is merely playing at having control. She is an actor, a performer, and you, my dear Coriolanus, will be her stage."

“And what is my role in this performance?”

"You will be the charming escort, the perfect foil to her rebellious spirit," she explained. "Your ability to manage her shows that the Gaul name carries on in your relationship with her, breeding the best gamemaker there could ever be."

His fingers itched to throw the beaker of acid onto Gaul. The very thought of touching you made his skin crawl. He could still feel the lingering sensation of your skin against his, a clammy, unnatural warmth that sent shivers down his spine from the last time the two of you had touched even briefly. Truly his interactions with you had been limited before the 10th games, you were two years his junior, it was only after he came back from 12 that he had even spoken to you. Now you worked side by side with each other on the games under your mother, and his every interaction with you made him violent.

The idea of having you draped over his arm all night filled him with a sense of nausea. He could almost picture you under him, your body contorting in agony as you choked by his doing. He envisioned himself standing over one of the ridiculous chaises in your family estate, your father's extravagant purchase. He would slowly tighten his grip around your throat, watching as your eyes bulged in terror and your face contorted in pain.

The thought of your hands desperately clawing at his arms, your tears streaming down your face, sent a strange jolt of excitement through him.

He pictured himself using one of the delicate scarves you always wore to strangle you, the soft fabric contrasting with the harshness of your screams. He would watch as your eyes rolled back in your head, your life fading away with a final, gasping breath.

Hate was a strong word, but it was the only word that adequately described his feelings for you. A venomous mixture of loathing, fascination, and a twisted desire that he couldn't quite explain. Lucy Gray he had wanted to control, but you wanted to break.

“As you wish Dr. Gaul.”

When your mother had told you that you were to be escorted by Coriolanus to the gala and then “pretend” to court him, you were pissed. You saw through his carefully constructed façade of charm and sophistication, recognizing him for the manipulative user he truly was. In his eyes, people were nothing more than expendable pawns, their lives mere tokens in his ruthless game.

While you couldn't deny that you shared a similar disregard for human life, having been raised in an environment where expendability was a given, there was a fundamental difference between your perspectives. You saw value in keeping people alive, recognizing their potential as tools in your own elaborate schemes. Death was not an option for you; it was a blunt instrument, a crude solution to a complex problem. People were willing to go to the extremes for their loved ones, and extremes meant profit.

There was no choice to be had in the matter of being his date, mother dearest had given you a look that said all. If you dared to defy her wishes, she would unleash a torrent of consequences, transforming your life into a living hell until she deemed your lesson learned. While you possessed a certain degree of freedom, there were lines even you dared not cross, and this was one of them.

But Coriolanus made you feel things that you thought you were incapable of, a deep burning rage that whispered at the end of it all one of you would be consumed. You could almost envision the moment when your fury would reach its crescendo, when your teeth would sink into his flesh, consuming him in the flames of your intensity.

As if life couldn't be any more cruel to you, Coriolanus had insisted that you were costumed by his cousin Tigris. Now Tigris was agreeable company, a beacon of kindness and warmth, possessed an innate ability to perceive the good in others. While you found her naivety and idealism somewhat exasperating, you couldn't deny her inherent goodness and her remarkable skill as a seamstress.

Yet, the thought of enduring the tedious process of changing into multiple outfits, each designed to enhance Tigris's artistic vision, threatened to push you to the brink of insanity, a state your mother had succumbed to years ago. The prospect of reliving her descent into madness sent a chill down your spine.

Tigris's fingers trailed along the soft fabric of the gown, carefully adjusting its folds to accentuate the curves of your body. "You know, you've got a really nice figure," she remarked, her voice laced with admiration.

A wry smile tugged at the corners of your lips. "Why thank you, Tigris. If you asked your cousin, he'd tell you I had a body made for the Districts."

Tigris's brow furrowed in confusion. "What does that even mean?"

"Oh, it's just one of his many ways of insulting me," you explained with a shrug. "He's surprisingly bad at it, considering how much he tries."

As Tigris continued her work, meticulously crafting the gown to perfection, you found yourself enjoying her company more than you had anticipated. Her easygoing nature and engaging conversation provided a welcome distraction from the simmering tension that always seemed to accompany Coriolanus's presence.

For a fleeting moment, you allowed yourself to relax, to partially let down the guard you had carefully constructed over the years. You savoured the simple pleasure of Tigris's companionship, cherishing the rare moments of genuine connection in a world that often felt cold and impersonal. Even if it was inside the Snow family penthouse.

The black velvet gown hugged your curves like a second skin. Tigris' skilled hands moved with practised ease, adjusting the intricate details of the dress, ensuring that it would perfectly complement your form.

"I think I'll add a corset effect to this," Tigris mused. "Corio has some cufflinks that were his father’s that would go well with that."

"I am but your humble dress-up doll," you teased, playing along with her lighthearted banter.

Tigris's smile widened, her laughter echoing through the opulent dressing room. "Well then, I'll have to show off my best work for such a famous doll," she declared, her voice filled with playful affection.

The light hearted mood continued for some time, eventually a servant came in to offer you tea. That ended up being your only respite as Tigris then wanted you to try on more gowns for different events. Apparently you had sparked something in her to create various things.

Perched atop a pedestal, clad only in your underwear and an arm across your bare chest, conversation flowed with Tigris, her nimble fingers expertly hemming the length of a shimmering silver gown. Your topics ranged from the latest academy and university gossip to Ma Plinth's overprotective tendencies towards Coriolanus, eventually settling on your father's renowned interior design skills. His contributions to the Capitol's architectural landscape were a source of pride for both of you.

You two had been so lost in conversation you hadn’t heard Coriolanus enter the apartment and calling out for Tigris until he was in the doorframe of the dressing parlour.

“Tigris I need you to fix this stitch on my blazer, it came undone while I was walking over here- oh.”

A flicker of surprise crossed Coriolanus's face, momentarily disrupting his composed demeanour. He seemed momentarily taken aback by the sight of you.

Tigris quickly rose, her hands reaching to cover your exposed form, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

“Corio!” she stammered, “If you can just leave it on the chair I’ll get to it shortly.”

Coriolanus regained his composure. "No need to rush, Tigris," he spoke smoothly, his voice devoid of any hint of the turmoil that he felt "I just need this done by Tuesday."

He turned his attention to you, his gaze lingering for a moment longer than necessary. "I should hope that's not what you’re intending to wear to the gala, I think your mother would throw you in the arena herself.”

Without another word, he turned and exited the dressing room, leaving you and Tigris to exchange looks.

___

Coriolanus couldn't shake the image of your back from his mind. The smooth, flawless skin, untouched by blemish or imperfection, is a testament to the care your mother had taken in your upbringing and no doubt the many concoctions she made to keep you that way. The memory of your curves lingered in his thoughts.

He had always held the opinion that your body was more suited to the Districts, a form meant for bearing child after child to provide the Captiol with more luxury. But seeing you laid bare made him reconsider your appeal.

His usual taste in women ran towards the petite, almost painfully thin, figures that could afford to forgo nourishment for the sake of fashion. They were delicate creatures, easily controlled, incapable of challenging his authority. But there was something about you, something that stirred a different kind of desire within him.

Thoughts of you under him shifted, taking on a carnal nature. The dim light in the room seemed to flicker with the intensity of the images playing in Coriolanus's mind.

You under him, tears streaming down your face, but no longer was he choking you. You cried out in pleasure begging him to never stop. Your cheeks flushed, eyes glossy, mouth open as you gasped. Neck covered in hit bite marks and hickies that trailed down your chest, heaving with exertion. His hands on your waist, pulling you closer to him as he thrust again and again, your nails digging into his forearms drawing blood.

You cried so sweetly for him, came undone so well for him. That cunning mind of yours consumed by thoughts of him. He might never figure out how to predict your actions but he could figure out your needs, your desires, what makes you tick. Pull your tongue out between his fingers and spit in your mouth. To turn you on your front and hike your hips up against his own, hands pinned behind your back.

“Corio, what's wrong?”

Coriolanus's mind jolted back to the present, the vivid images from his fantasies dissolving like wisps of smoke. He blinked rapidly, adjusting to the dim light of the room once more. Your gentle voice, using his nickname, had pierced through the haze of his thoughts, pulling him back from the precipice of his desires.

"Nothing, I was considering something for the next games," he replied, his voice slightly strained. "I do apologise, Mr. Creed. Innovation is something that weighs on me heavily.”

Mr. Creed chuckled, bassy and thumping. “ No worries my boy, your date was keeping me ample company.”

He watched as the older man's gaze lingered on your figure, a predatory glint in his eyes as it bore into your chest for a second too long.

Disgust churned within him, a visceral reaction to the blatant display of lechery. Mr. Creed's age only served to amplify the repulsiveness of his behaviour, a man old enough to be your father, yet still driven by the primal urges of a rutting animal.

Coriolanus saw through the façade of civility, the veneer of sophistication that Mr. Creed carefully maintained. Behind the polished exterior lurked a man incapable of masking his basest desires, his eyes a window into a mind consumed by lust.

He drew you in closer, feeling the heat of your skin spread against the material of his suit.

“And what company she is.” he placed a kiss on your temple with a chuckle all whistle maintaining eye contact with Mr. Creed. A man's warning not to vye for what was his. “I often say she should host the games instead of designing them.”

“Oh hush! You couldn’t possibly manage without me.”

“Well I’d have your mother.”

You giggled at that, showing that you had one too many fruity cocktails infused with a laughing agent earlier in the night, the light catching in your eyes. He could tell you were loose, more pliable then he had ever seen you. Part of him wondered if it was just all part of the act to you, playing as well behaved for him. The Capitol’s untouchable wild child made compliant in his arms.

Despite the lingering doubt, Coriolanus couldn't deny the allure of your presence. Your laughter, once a source of frustration, now held a captivating charm, and your relaxed attitude was a welcome change from your usual sharp wit and guarded demeanour.

“And with that Mr. Creed, I do think that Y/N and myself should go find Dr. Gaul.”

“Of course Mr. Snow, I look forward to your next presentation.’

Coriolanus pulled you away from the overly perfumed man and out of the garden where you had been. The president’s mansion always had half the party outside in the expansive greenery and the rest on the first floor of the building. He guided you out of the garden, the expansive greenery and lively chatter fading into a distant hum. He led you into a secluded sitting room, its dimly lit interior a stark contrast to the vibrant party outside.

Coriolanus was a man who prized possession, a collector of valuable objects and people alike. He had never been one to share, a feature made even worse after his time in District 12, and the sight of Mr. Creed eyeing his 'toy' had ignited a possessive fire within him.

You were his, he told himself, all the Capitol knew after the revelation of your made up love affair during the 15th games. But, you had made it abundantly clear that you were not his. The ownership did not extend into your life outside of performing in your role for the people of the Capitol and to appease your mother.

It was easy to keep the lines from being blurred normally but since that day in the dressing parlour something snapped within him.

Plopping down on the chaise you sighed heavily. “What crawled up your ass Corio?” To strung out every syllable of his nickname, teasing him.

A sharp exhale and her turned to face you. Watching you reapply your pristine red lipstick.

“Creed is nothing more than a pig, a bloated, self-serving creature who values nothing but his own wealth and power," he growled, his voice laced with venom.

You raised an eyebrow.

“Tell me something I don't know. One of their Avvoxes is like that because Festus saw his father with the girl, and his mother went bat shit.”

“How do you know this?”

You closed your compact with a snap and tucked it back into your clutch alongside your lipstick. "Festus told me," you confessed, a sly grin playing on your lips. "He squeals easily.”

He hummed in agreement.

“Tell me Snow, when did you start to care if some old pervert undressed me mentally.”

“Since your mother made the entire country think we’re in love.”

“But we aren't.”

“No we aren’t,” there was no love between you two “but that means you’re mine as far as he’s concerned. I don’t enjoy anyone coveting what's mine, even if this relationship is just for show.”

“Ah! Of course, there he is, the egotistical and controlling Coriolanus we all know. For a second I thought you might actually hold a shred of care for me.”

You leaned back in the chair, your dress slipping slightly down on your chest furthering the curve of your breast.

He had to admit to himself he was no more animal than Mr. Creed when the slightest slip made his thoughts race. His mind went back to his earlier thoughts now inspired by the room you were in. Bent over the chaise with your lipstick smeared, a litany of stains on his face and collar. He’d hike the skirt of your dress up and pull your top down, leaving your breasts free for him to grab at as he took you from behind, your underwear hanging off just an ankle. Festus or his father would walk in the scene and pale as Coriolanus displayed his ownership of you.

“Seriously Snow what’s wrong with you?” You’ve been distracted all night.” You shifted on the chair grabbing his arm and pulling him down to sit. “I won’t pretend to like you but you’re not yourself.”

His gaze flickered down to your chest before meeting your eyes.

Those eyes had always held the power to see through him, to strip away his carefully constructed exterior and expose the terrified child within, a child haunted by the horrors of the bombings. They roused something deep within him, something he couldn't quite comprehend. He was convinced it was hatred, an intense aversion to everything related to you. Yet, amidst the gaudy extravagance of this opulent sitting room, there was something more than hatred, a yearning, a need to possess you, not just in the pretence of a fabricated relationship, but for real.

“Nothing is wrong.”

"Bullshit," you retorted, your voice firm and unwavering. "You've been distant with me ever since that day in Tigris' dressing parlour. You refused to even acknowledge me the last time I saw you, couldn't even bring yourself to look at me."

He couldn't deny your accusation, for it was true. He had been avoiding you, intentionally keeping his distance, unable to face the tempest of emotions that your presence evoked within him.

"Have you considered that I find you repulsive and even looking at you gives me mental anguish?" he asked, his voice laced with sarcasm, a desperate attempt to deflect the attention away from his own turmoil.

"Okay, jackass," you sighed in exasperation. "I was actually trying to be nice to you here, even considering the possibility of being more amicable in the future, but clearly, that's an impossibility with you."

Standing up from your position, you straightened out your dress, your back turned to him. "I'm going to find my mother and then leave, and I don’t know how we will keep acting like we’re in love in public but we will." you declared, your voice seeming to echo in the room.

Before you could take a step away, Coriolanus' hand wrapped around your wrist. "You're hurting me," you exclaimed, struggling against his hold.

"What do you even want?" you demanded, spinning around to snatch his hand away, only to find yourself pulled down, landing directly into his lap.

You gasped in surprise, your body pressed against his, the warmth of his touch sending a jolt through your senses. His eyes, those storm-filled pools, were inches from yours, their intensity almost hypnotic. There was something swirling in them that you had never seen him express before.

“God seriously, what is wrong with you? I don’t know why my mother insists on it being you! You are the most insufferable man I have ever met. Constantly talking down to me and trying to make me feel lesser. You need to sort yourself out.”

Your voice raised, carrying into the hallway where he knew people were. He could hear their steps coming towards the door.

He watched you, his expression unreadable, his fingers still tracing patterns on your waist. It felt so breakable under his touch, like he could squeeze it ever so tightly and it would shatter. Maybe that was what was wrong with him, his image was that of strength and yet you were so fragile.

The reality was much harsher than that. He had never viewed you as a person before that day. You have been an obstacle or a pawn. Now he had to act as he loved you, craved you, desired you. Initially that was a hard ask, your very being was unpleasant to him, but since that day something had shifted in him. You were human now. And far too tempting.

The handle of the door began to turn. The narrative needed to be made, actions taken, you both were here for a purpose tonight.

His lips crashed into yours, more gnashing teeth than the delicate touch of a lover, a show of dominance and control. The frustration of this whole act and his loss of control bubbling to the surface and letting the anger out on you. You tried to pull away, speak to him maybe, but he pulled you back against him and with a hand on the side of your face pushed your jaw open letting him slip his tongue inside your mouth. It was wet and messy. His tongue running against the back of your top teeth before dancing with your own. The desire to consume you coming out on top.

“Oh my!”

He pulled away with a bite at your lip, hard enough to leave the both of you tasting blood.

A collection of Coriolanus' classmates from the Academy and a few notable members of high society, including both Festus and his father, stood at the now open french doors taking in the scene before them.

Y/N Gaul draped across Coriolanus Snow’s lap engaged in a hot and steamy makeout session. You intricate updo half udon by his actions, both your breathing labour, red lipstick smudged around both your mouths. You felt like a deer caught in the headlights. You hadn’t heard anyone coming to the room too distracted by Coriolanus’ odd behaviour which was now explained.

Coriolanus instantly snapped into character a charming smile spread across his face as he steadied a hand on your hip.

“My apologies I wasn’t aware anyone would be using this parlour tonight.” He spoke with a lighthearted chuckle. “Miss Gaul was just simply breathtaking this evening.”

Your name brought you back into the moment, the velvet of his voice soothing your panic. You moved to adjust his shirt and blazer back into place, an intimate gesture painting the two of you having a deeper relationship than people initially thought.

“Corio,” you chided gently “I told you that we needed to be careful.”

“You're right my dear. I was overconfident, assuming we had a moment to ourselves. I just can’t help myself when it comes to you.” He slipped the handkerchief out of his pocket and began cleaning up your ruined lipstick. “Please give us just a minute and we will clear the room for you.”

He finished cleaning you up and then stood, taking your hand in his. Some more apologies were given to the crowd as the two of you absconded away like teenage lovers that had just been caught. A trail of hushed whispers and lingering glances followed you out. You couldn’t catch everything but you heard one thing very clearly.

“Well there goes the gossip that they hate each other.”

#uzuri writes #hunger games imagine #tbosas #young!coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #the death of an actor #hunger games smut

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plum-writes · 1 year

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Black Noir x Piano!Player!Reader

Summary: Black Noir is known for having a knack of taking over the piano when anyone from your agency is sent to play for Vought. You’ve been warned of this, and although you have played for Vought before, you’ve never come across the mysterious hero. Something you are very grateful for. But your luck can only last for so long.

A/n: this baby doesn’t get enough love so I had to write something xx

Your fingers were on autopilot as they played the music for the prestigious party. Your ears mindlessly listened to the gossip and conversations around you as you played. The music was rather somber, the conversations consisting of information you’d rather not ever know, and no one was really paying attention otherwise to the notes you played. No one ever did, really.

The music at these Vought parties served as a filler. It was there to ward off any awkward moments, and fill a light vibe in the air between the many governing officials that more or less put up fake appearances when interacting with each other. It was just background noise to the dull, materialistic atmosphere that surrounded the party. You had done this same routine every time you were scheduled to play for Vought, and almost every time things went the same.

You got hired to play at a party by Vought for 5 hours, sitting all night long at the piano, and had a 30 minute break in between your hours. The same routine you followed whenever you were booked by Vought. No one came to check up on you throughout the party, or really make sure you were playing the music, and you were in charge of making sure you didn’t skip your break.

So it wouldn’t hurt to kick things up a bit now, would it? Not like anyone would notice, or more likely care, would they?

Your fingers fluidly transferred the slow melody into an upbeat one, your hands now dancing over the keys instead of gliding over them, a jubilant tune washing over the party. You let a little smile break your professional exterior, and your rod straight posture used when playing, relaxed slightly. As expected, no one turned around at the change of the music, too invested in their conversations to notice or care. And a little selfishly, you preferred it this way.

You played on and on, taking this opportunity to practice some music you had been rehearsing on your downtime, those moments being the only times where you spared a glance towards Madelyn Stilwell and the other Vought officials, seeing if they noticed you weren’t playing the pieces of music they requested of you. Of course, they didn’t even so much as twitch their heads in your direction, and your posture relaxed some more, this comfort allowing you to play the unapproved music for longer than what was allowed. But no harm, no foul right? No one noticed you going off script, so why not take advantage. If only you knew about the hidden eyes that were watching you from the shadows.

After about an hour of passing the time indulging yourself, you fell into the light flow of music again and went back to the scheduled sheets of music. You huffed slightly, a little disappointed at having to quit the lively tunes, but keeping the self satisfied little smile plastered on your face as you played on. After all, you couldn’t deny how good it felt to play something else other than the same 12 melodies.

So yet again, you fell into the muscle memory of the notes, eyes glazing over in the disassociation that came with doing a repetitive action, mindlessly humming the notes lowly to yourself. So blissfully oblivious and unassuming of your surroundings at the time. So when looking back at this moment in the future, you would want to slap yourself for not noticing the approaching figure that had snuck up next to you. Because you really should’ve with how many times you had been warned.

You quickly choked on your hum when you felt the weight of someone else sit down next to you on the bench, and your ghost of a smile immediately vanished when you spotted the black combat boots placed closely to your own black professional shoes.

You knew exactly who it was.

How couldn’t you?

He was somewhat infamous to you piano players who were always scheduled for Vought. The many tales of Black Noir’s taking over the piano when someone was playing for the party was one too many. Thomas, a man who played for Vought more than you, warned you many times about Black Noir’s tendencies.

“Aye, he has a knack for sitting down next to you, and just waiting for you to leave.”

You swallowed to yourself now, hating how you were in the same position right this second, your body quickly feeling a buzz that urged you to run. The only thing stopping you was the memory of the next words Thomas had told you.

“Don’t fight him on the piano if it ever happens to you, lass.” His face was uncharacteristically serious, dulled down with a grim expression, his Scottish accent losing the playful hitch it always had. It scared you a bit, quite honestly, never having seen Thomas act this way.

You had tilted your head at Thomas then, looking down, and thinking about it at the time. Of course, you would never fight Noir on the piano if he had ever done what he had done to every other piano player that played for Vought. You were so scared of the advantage supes had on you that you equated fighting any average C-List supe to fighting Homelander. But the way Thomas talked about it, holding a more serious tone rather than a bitter one of having to give away their working time just cause a supe demanded gave you a more chilling feeling than anything about them.And when Thomas had continued, it just solidified your thoughts.

“It doesn’t matter if he butts in just two hours after you started playing, and you don’t get paid for the rest of the night- It’s better not to cause any problems at Vought, lassie.”

God, did you ever agree with Thomas right now more than you ever have before.

You were tense, so tense next to Back Noir, playing with a rigid frame, and resolutely keeping your eyes on the sheet of music in front of you even though you didn’t even need to read it. Your heart was beating fast and you wondered minutely if he could hear it before scratching that thought out of your brain, and finishing the rest of the notes of the melody. The keys faded out, the music slowly dying, and you rested your hands on the keys for a few more moments after the song ended before raising them up. There was another beat of silence as you sat impeccably still, and his eyes burned the side of your face.

You turned towards him with a stiff neck, heart jumping at seeing him already looking at you. It made your hands tremble, and you clenched yours fists tight as you forced the words out of your mouth as you gestured to the piano with a small flick of your eyes. “I- it’s all yours, sir.”

You got up, trying not to make it obvious that you were in a haste to leave and at the same time trying to get the fuck away from him as fast as possible, but a gloved hand gripping your wrist had you paralyzed again.

Your breath stopped. Why? You screamed to yourself. This never happened to anyone else, Black Noir always let them leave without any struggle, what is so different about now??

You gave a trembling gasp, and turned towards Black Noir calmly. You gave him what you hoped was an inquisitive look, but you knew yourself too well to know it was anything but. Especially because he was looking at you dead in the eyes, his black mask creating an unnerving stare that you tried your best to meet. Your head snapped down at his hand that gently placed a little piece of paper on the piano keys.

‘keep playing’

You felt your breath slowly release itself, and you looked towards him again. He was still staring at you in the same way as before, but this time you felt a little less threatened.

It’s okay, it’s okay, he didn’t threaten you, and there’s too many witnesses for him to do something, right?

After a few moments of calming yourself you slowly nodded at him, your once fleeting stance relaxing some. He released his hold on your wrist, and you turned towards the keys immediately with a seat, sitting down a few more inches away from him. Your body felt a bit more grounded, and face turning more composed. Your heart was still racing, but one glance towards the person next to you let you know that he could honestly care less about that. Just play, that’s all you have to do and then he’ll leave you alone. With another deep breath that you would later chastise yourself for being so obvious, your hands started pressing down on the keys, and you resumed playing the songs Vought gave you. Though, the melody hardly went past the first eight notes because you quickly stopped when a hand reached out to grab your wrist again, this time harder to stop your from playing. You abruptly stopped with a fearful gasp, and harsh press of the keys that had some people glancing over before they looked away again.

You internally screamed to yourself, knowing that if Noir suddenly decided that he didn’t want to be so calm, no one would come to your help. You don’t allow yourself to know much about supes, but you know that they get away with almost anything.

Your head snapped up at him, and you couldn’t even hide the fear written all over your face if you tried. He placed another note next to your hands.

‘Play what you were playing before’

What the fuck? You desperately thought to yourself, immediately racking your brain for what he could mean. Is he talking about the song I played before he told me to sit back down-?

‘Not the Vought songs Play from before’

You had a look of realization on your face before you looked up at him again. He was looking at you straight in the eyes, and you felt your cheeks flush for just a second.

He heard you playing your other songs??

You felt like crawling under a rock, because dammit you thought no one had noticed you indulging in your guilty pleasure of being unnoticed at these parties to stray off script- something that would surely get you in the hot seat since Vought was notorious to always making sure everyone was sticking to directions. Instead, you swallowed the newfound terror stick in your throat and, nodded once again and turned back to the keys.

You were still so tense, your heart was still beating against your chest like a sledgehammer and you felt the weight of Black Noir’s presence weighing so heavily on your head that it felt impossible to play right now. But even so, you forced yourself to.

Your hands started dancing over the keys again, and the only reprieve you felt in this suffocating situation was that you had to focus more intently on the notes since they came from memory, and it helped you ignore the person sitting next to you. As time passed, you got more and more comfortable, and you eventually fell into a steady rhythm, transitioning into the different melodies with more emotion now. Everything started to feel a bit more natural, and a little less forced.

Next to you, you noticed how Noir leaned his head back slightly, sitting up almost as rod straight as you were, hands resting on his thighs as he slightly swayed his head to the music. You could see him tapping his fingers along to the notes on his thighs, almost as if he were playing on the keys and not you. He was listening to the music. He was listening to you play the music.

It made you more nervous than you’d like to feel right now.

Especially when people started now glancing at you two.

You could imagine the picture you two made, with Noir clearly enjoying the music with a lax posture, and you with your rigid one, fingers flying over the keys with your pale face. You would’ve laughed with how comical and absurd this all was if you weren’t solely involved in this.

You’re grateful when Madelyn Stillwell comes over and puts on her PR smile, informing Black Noir that he is needed for a charity event, notably meeting your eyes when she says this.

Yes, yes, take him. I won’t keep him from you.

You keep playing as she tells him, just lightly pressing down on the keys so as to not play over their conversation, eyes resolutely staying away from them. You do feel Black Noir turn towards you, his eye grazing your side profile, and you try not to look up once again.

“C’mon, Noir. I’m sure you’ll see her very soon again, we don’t want to bother her any longer.” Madelyn’s voice carry’s over you like a cold chill, making you shudder and clench your jaw even tighter.

She talks about you like you’re not even there, and she talks to Noir like a child- no. More like a dog, you conclude. Her mother knows best tone grates on your nerves, and you can hear the demanding undertone it carry’s when she talks to him.

You don’t know why you feel for him at this moment, why you feel for all supes that have to always be on a tight schedule for publicity. It doesn’t last long when you remember they’re supes and will always have more privileges than you and everyone else you know.

So you’re not too torn up when Noir gets up, and turns to follow Ms. Stillwell. They both leave you alone at the piano, playing with tense fingers and not even bothering to care about the timing you come in nor about how you press the keys too harshly and lightly at some points. You’re finally able to breathe, able to relax without a killing machine sitting next to you.

You’d say you’re allowed some leverage on your poor playing.

You sneak a look at the clock on your wrist, and finally let out your shuddering sigh of relief.

Only two more hours, and you can go home.

Only two more hours.

Once the two hour mark hits, you’re closing up with a small, light melody. One that you admittedly rush through, and as soon as the last note hits, you don’t wait for it to reverberate all the way before you’re closing the lid of the piano and getting up. You push in the bench, and straighten your work suit as you rush to the exit doors.

You walk briskly to it, smiling quickly, and nodding your appreciation to the few people who half meaninglessly praise your playing. You open the doors of the room with a desperate push, greeting the muted hallway like it’s your savior.

You feel so much better already.

You go to the elevator, and as the doors are closing you don’t know why you expect Black Noir to come out at this moment, but you do. You’ve been feeling it ever since he sat down next to you, expecting him to influence a preemptive event after all this, and you wait with baited breath as the doors close. Your stomach is turning in anxiety and fear, and you’re just waiting for the moment he comes in and- shit, you don’t even know- kill you or something. It’s something you’d most expect to happen at these Vought parties.

You were paid to much attention to to not have something happen, right?

The doors close without any interruption, though, and you go down to the bottom floor alone without anything happening. You immediately walk outside when you reach your designated floor, not wanting to push your luck. You don’t heed the front desk clerk who is wishing you a good night, feeling a bit rude but needing to get home as soon as possible.

You get in your car and practically race home, driving a little over the speeding limit, and swerving your turns. When you reach your house, the porch light still on, and nothing looking too disturbed, you park in the driveway and sit in your car for a few moments in the dark.

This is when you feel like you can breathe.

When you wake up the next morning, you feel a bit better. When you had came home last night you reasoned to yourself that things weren’t really as bad as it had felt in the moment. I mean, Noir could’ve done a lot worse, couldn’t he? And he would’ve if he wanted to surely, maybe he just really liked your playing and that’s why he decided to stay by your side for who knows how long. You got lucky, luckier than most anyone you knew.

So when you sit at your table, little dog rubbing by your feet, and a steaming cup of coffee blowing against your face, you don’t feel lucky when you open your phone and see new text messages in your box from multiple people. There’s one from Thomas, one from your hard ass boss, and one from an unknown number. They all vary in tones that an anxiety fueled pit twists your stomach. You open them before you can think, hoping that reading this messages will calm your cramping stomach. It doesn’t.

Thomas: Lassie, what’d you do?? Everyone’s going bonkers right now

Giovanni Cruz(boss): You must’ve made quite the impression at Vought. Good job, this is the type of work I’m expecting.

Impression? Your stomach dropped, and you looked at the message from the unknown number, seeing part of it in the little notification box. Before you can allow yourself to stay scared, you open the text message.

Unknown: Congratulations! Vought was very impressed by your piano skills, and our Party Planning Committee has decided to book you for all of our events this fall. Here are the dates and times, along with the prices we are offering…

You didn’t even bother to finish reading the whole text message, your phone slipping from your hands, and thumping onto the table. You were motionless, your hand limply hanging in the air where you were holding your phone, and eyes wide and unblinking as you just processed what the fuck Vought had sent you.

After a while, you started laughing.

Because when you would go back to play for Vought three weeks later, and you played a new sheet of music filled with the songs you had played for Noir last time, you didn’t even have to feel his gaze to know he was the one who wanted you back.

And when he sat down next to you on the bench, content to listen as you played, you were surprised to find yourself less tense. Less scared. You didn’t think he’d hurt you.

You hoped you weren’t wrong.

***

Thank you so much for reading <3<3 Thinking about doing a part two but idkkk, maybe🤭

#black noir #black noir x reader #black noir x you #black noir the boys #the boys x you #soldier boy x reader #butcher x reader

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youremyheaven · 7 months

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Punarvasu & Swati: Cosmogony, Reality & Consciousness

Punarvasu and Swati are deeply intertwined nakshatras with very similar patterns and themes. Punarvasu's deity Goddess Aditi embodies infinity and vast primordial space. She is boundless and limitless. Swati's deity Vayu is the ruler of air & wind and connected to the life force or prana (or qi).

Both these nakshatras connect to space, infinity, abundance and are known for being wealth giving nakshatras.

Ruth Handler, the inventor of Barbie had Swati Sun & Mercury along with Ketu in Punarvasu

Margot Robbie who played Barbie has Swati Moon & Punarvasu Rising

I had briefly mentioned this in my Tomie post but Swati & Punarvasu's themes are manifest in Barbie because Barbie is not a person, she is a type of doll, and she can be anyone or anything. Barbie is a whole universe into herself, this is the cosmic abundance and infinitude of Swati & Punarvasu.

My Tomie post also talks about how Tomie is a Punarvasu so do check that out!!

I have always thought that Punarvasu & Swati are related to time travel which makes sense provided the cosmic infinitude embodied in these naks.

Predestination, a time- travel movie starring Ethan Hawke who is Swati Sun (do watch it, its really good))

Bruce Willis has been in several time-travel movies, including 12 Monkeys & Looper. He has Jupiter in Punarvasu atmakaraka

The 1960 movie The Time Machine stars Rod Taylor who has Ketu in Swati.

The Terminator movies starring Arnold Schwarzenegger- Punarvasu stellium (mercury, venus & rising). Arnold like many Punarvasus have been in many sci-fi movies that concern the nature of reality, in fact his own autobiography is called Total Recall (he's been in a movie of the same name and its about what is real and what isn't- peak Punarvasu behaviour I must say)

Planet of the Apes stars Charlton Heston who has Punarvasu Moon, Swati Rising

Frequency stars Dennis Quaid who has Punarvasu Moon & Ketu

The Matrix/ The Lake House/Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure are all time travel movies starring Keanu Reeves who is Punarvasu Moon.

Its interesting to me that many Punarvasus have often spoken about "creating your reality".

Octavia Butler, the writer has Punarvasu Rising (the themes of this nak is vv apparent in her work but I'll perhaps discuss that in a future post) and this^^ is a page from her journal that she wrote in the 1970s wayyy before manifestation was a "thing".

Butler grew up very poor in an era of racial segregation and suffered from dyslexia. She overcame great odds to become one of the best-selling sci-fi novelists of all time.

Miranda Kerr- Punarvasu Moon often talks about the power of our thoughts and has referenced writers like David R Hawkins (who talks about the nature of consciousness) a lot. Here's a quote from her book.

“Start each day by saying to yourself: ‘How amazing it is to be alive! What a wondrous feeling I have inside! I am awake, healthy and full of joy!’ Visualise every cell in your body being filled with vitality, health and love.”- Treasure Yourself

Miranda grew up quite lower middle class on a farm in rural Australia and then went on to become one of the best known models in the world and is now married to a billionaire.

Arnold Schwarzenegger- Punarvasu Rising (and stellium)

If you've read his autobiography or watched his Netflix documentary yk that he talks constantly about the power of the mind, having focus etc

He grew up in a small town in Austria (after WW2) with an abusive father and also suffered from dyslexia. He then went on to become one of the biggest movie stars of all time and was the Governor of California???

Ariana Grande- Mercury in Punarvasu sings about manifestation and law of attraction quite a lot. She was a side character on a Nickelodeon show and 10yrs later she's one of the biggest pop- stars.

Nikola Tesla, Punarvasu Sun & Venus

Tesla discovered automatic current transmission & generation technology which is responsible for modern day wireless connections. He's also super Punarvasu core as a person, he had eidetic memory, apparently did not sleep more than 2 hours per night, was interested in Vedic cosmology & philosophy (he used terms like akasha & prana to describe the relationship between matter & energy). I find this quote by him very interesting, "To me, the universe is simply a great machine which never came into being and never will end". I personally don't believe in the Big Bang theory and I'm inclined to believe that the universe has always existed instead of having come into existence at one point, which imo, is a very anthropocentric idea. Tesla's quote is a reflection of the boundless nature of Aditi, who is the cosmic mother, she embodies creation.

fun fact: Elon Musk who named Tesla after him is Punarvasu Mercury & Rising.

Interestingly enough, several decades before the Big Bang theory gained mainstream acceptance and was studied by scientists, Edgar Allan Poe published a lecture/essay on the matter titled Eureka: A Prose Poem in 1848 (!!!!). He had Swati Rising

Can you believe that he, a man with zero scientific background essentially came up with ideas that would serve as the basis of 20th century scientific discoveries & theories??? That too in 1848???

Analysis of Eureka's scientific content shows congruities with modern cosmology, stemming from Poe's assumption of an evolving Universe and it also contains ideas about the unity of space and time, the mathematical equality of matter and energy, the velocity of light and a rudimentary concept of relativity, black holes (including one at the centre of our Milky Way), a "pulsating" universe that renews itself eternally, and other universes in other dimensions with different laws of nature.

A writer & poet who dropped out of college came up with all that in 1848. Swatis & Punarvasus have the ability to understand complex concepts, systems, and processes intuitively. This is why they are so good at analysis, strategy and planning. They have a futuristic vision because its easy for them to see how current events will affect other things and manifest in the future. Those who don't have these placements will struggle to understand what this is like because most of us aren't endowed with this sort of ability to see the trees and the forest all at once.

Interestingly, the scientist Georges Lemaître who first proposed the "Big Bang theory" of the origin of the universe, calling it the "hypothesis of the primaeval atom", and later calling it "the beginning of the world" is a Punarvasu Sun.

Leonardo da Vinci is known for his foresight and is considered a visionary. He, in the 15th & 16th centuries, pondered upon the possibilities of human flight and left behind diagrams and models of the helicopter, the parachute, the machine gun, the humanoid robot, the revolving bridge, the ideal city and much more. He had Ketu in Punarvasu.

Carl Jung created some of the best-known psychological concepts, including synchronicity, archetypal phenomena, the collective unconscious, the psychological complex, and extraversion and introversion. He had Punarvasu Mercury & Venus and it explains why there was such a heavy emphasis on "darkness" vs "light" in his work (Punarvasu being "the return of the light").

He is the father of Analytical Psychology which seeks to "analyze the relationship between a person's individual consciousness and the deeper common structures which underlie them. Personal experiences both activate archetypes in the mind and give them meaning and substance for the individual. At the same time, archetypes covertly organize human experience and memory, their powerful effects becoming apparent only indirectly and in retrospect. Understanding the power of the collective unconscious can help an individual to navigate through life."

In fact, vedic astrology (Jung did use astrology as well btw) serves as a very interesting way to explore the collective unconscious and the many archetypes that are manifest in individuals possessing them.

I will make a post in the future comparing Freud & Jung and how their different astrological placements contributed to their similar but differing views.

George Orwell, who was a fierce critic of totalitarianism had Swati Rising, if you read his works, you can see how he's able to analyse the effects and consequences of the same, especially 1984 which was sooo ahead of its time in the sense that much of what was written in the book is eerily similar to what's going on in the world right now. The novel examines the role of truth and facts within societies and how they can be manipulated.

Swatis & Punarvasus are super Futuristic, as individuals or visionaries as well as in their art & work. They dominate in the surreal/scifi genre.

Robin Williams- Swati Rising stars as an android in Bicentennial Man which is a movie about a robot who learns how to be human. Transcending humanity is a big theme in the works of Swati natives.

On this note, I have noticed several Swati & Punarvasu natives star in movies featuring/about cloning 👀 This does not surprise me as I had already mentioned this in my Tomie post but it is fascinating how Swati & Punarvasu's ability to be many many versions of themselves is made manifest in this trope of clones.

I have to mention how both Rahu & Jupiter have a very boundless, obese energy that is hard to contain. This can be manifest negatively because its very easy for energy of this proportion to be misused and misdirected but when they're harnessed positively, these individuals are capable of envisioning change that have few/no other parallels.

Moon (2009) is a movie that features the main character and his clones. Sam Rockwell, Swati Sun plays the main character.

Tom Cruise, Punarvasu moon (acc to Claire Nakti) stars in Oblivion and plays a clone of himself. One version of him is good, his "clone" is evil. The battle between good & evil within oneself is a VERY Jupiterian trope (and I shall make a post solely about that in the near future).

Multiplicity is a 90s scifi-comedy about a guy who clones himself so that he can do all the things he wants to do. Michael Keaton who plays the protagonist has Swati Moon

The Sixth Day is a movie starring Arnold Schwarzenegger (Punarvasu stellium) and it is about cloning. The title is a reference to the Abrahamic Genesis concept of how God created mankind on the sixth day.

This in itself is very interesting because Punarvasu is the 7th nakshatra and in the Bible, it is said "And on the seventh day God finished the work that he had done, and he rested on the seventh day from all his work that he had done. So God blessed the seventh day and made it holy because on it God rested from all the work that he had done in creation."

7 is a number that has profound spiritual meaning and is present in many religions as a figure of significance. From this verse taken from the Book of Genesis, it is interesting to note that ""7" is the culmination of creation. It is the day on which God rested because he had already created. It is not nothingness, it is the day on which everything already existed. This is a significant Punarvasu theme.

Replicas stars Keanu Reeves (Punarvasu Moon) as a neuroscientist who tries to revive his deceased family members by cloning them.

Its interesting how in these films, natives appear either as a clone or as the ones who do the cloning, furthermore connecting it back to Punarvasu's creation trope.

Harrison Ford, Punarvasu sun & moon stars as in and as the Blade Runner (1982) where he must "pursue and terminate four replicants who stole a ship in space and have returned to Earth to find their creator."

David Cronenberg is a director best known for making really weird, surreal, futuristic movies that heavily feature themes related to the nature of reality, consciousness etc

He is a Punarvasu Moon & Jupiter

Gakuryu Ishii, Punarvasu Moon is another filmmaker who makes movies that heavily centre around truth, reality, consciousness, the future etc.

I recommend his movie Mirrored Mind which heavily deals with identity, consciousness etc (its vaguely reminiscent of Perfect Blue)

Robert de Niro Punarvasu Rising, stars in the movie Awakenings (based on a true story) as a catatonic patient who has an "awakening" before tragically going back into catatonia, Robin Williams, Swati Rising stars as the doctor who administers a drug that induces this awakening.

In Vedic philosophy, there are 3 gunas, Rajas, Tamas & Sattva.

Tamas is a state of darkness, inertia, inactivity,

Rajas is a state of energy, action, change, and movement.

Sattva is a state of harmony, balance, joy, and intelligence.

Punarvasu belongs to the Rajas guna whereas Swati belongs to Tamas guna.

Tamas can be described as a state of statis or stagnation as there is no transformation and thus no change. Punarvasu natives are prone to passivity and it is only when they face their own destructive shadow, do they emerge out of passivity to their natural state of Rajas. In this movie, Deniro's experience where he emerges from his catatonia with a desire for freedom and to live life to the fullest before eventually accepting the fact that his condition cannot be remedied inspires the Doctor played by Robin Williams to emerge out of his own shell and live life more fully.

Punarvasus are often restricted by situations beyond their control yet they are possessed by a yearning to live life to the fullest. Swatis often have unmeasured freedom and do not know how to utilize it, they are restricted by their own character.

The Gaia Hypothesis proposed by James Lovelock (1972) suggests that living organisms on the planet interact with their surrounding inorganic environment to form a synergetic and self-regulating system that created, and now maintains, the climate and biochemical conditions that make life on Earth possible.

It is a holistic view, which is generally not appreciated in science that likes to favour randomness, chance or whatever instead of the innate harmony and union behind creation.

James Lovelock has Punarvasu moon & Swati rising

Lynn Margulis who co-developed this theory with him most likely has Revati Moon and I will be exploring her symbiotic view of evolution on a different post as it goes beyond the scope of this one.

Edit: as @brundlefly333 pointed out, the French philosopher Henri Bergson (Punarvasu Moon) has a book called Creative Evolution which extrapolates that whilst "evolution of species can come from external factors "like natural selection", it most importantly (comes) from an internal impulse (a creative force). This creative force is inherently unpredictable and non-linear, leading to the emergence of novelty and complexity in living organisms over time.

I find his "Cone of Memory" (depicted above) hypothesis very fascinating.

The Cone of Memory model can be imagined as an inverted cone, with the apex representing the present moment, the base symbolizing the entirety of one’s past experiences, and the cone’s vertical axis signifying the flow of time. As the present moment progresses, the apex of the cone moves upward along the axis, continuously stretching the cone outward as it incorporates new experiences and memories into a person’s consciousness. The memories from our past experiences are layered into the cone, with the most recent memories residing closer to the apex and older memories located further down, towards the base.

Bergson’s model emphasizes the active role of individual perception, memory, and experience in shaping one’s consciousness. The human mind, as depicted by Bergson, interacts with the objective world while drawing from its accumulated memories to create individual experiences in real time. The Cone of Memory focuses on the dynamic interplay between perception, memory, and experience, hoping to account for the generation of novel understandings and interpretations of reality.

Bergson’s emphasis on experience at the personal level also has significant implications for how we understand the self. In his view, the self is not a static entity but rather a constantly developing process, shaped by the dynamic interplay of perception, memory, and experience. This more fluid conception of the self contrasts sharply with many traditional notions of a fixed, unchanging identity. It also invites us to recognize the transformative power of our own experiences and encounters in the continuous interweaving of the past and present in our temporal consciousness.

It can be summed up with this quote:

"To exist is to change, to change is to mature, to mature is to go on creating oneself endlessly"- Henri Bergson

Rudolf Steiner- Ketu in Punarvasu, Swati rising

Steiner's breadth of work encompasses many fields, he pioneered modern-day organic farming, anthroposophical medicine (what we call alternate medicine including homeopathy, massages and frequency work etc rooted in the human body's ability to heal itself) invented the Waldorf education system (alternative schooling) and tried to merge science and spirituality.

All of this is vvv Punarvasu & Swati coded because its these natives who are frequently drawn to non-traditional systems of thought & experience and also merging a vast variety of techniques + being well versed in a lot of different fields etc comes down to having the inner space to hold all of it. This is literally not something most other people can do. Pursuit of knowledge can easily drain/deplete people but Punarvasu & Swati natives have a boundless thirst for knowledge and innately understand the profound truth that everything is connected.

Symbiosis, synergy, syncretism etc are all themes prominent in the works of Swati & Punarvasu natives who tend to view things as a coherent whole and not separate from one another; everything in creation exists to serve one another and exist in perfect harmony. Its not by "accident" that human beings took shape on earth where all the elements exist to continually support human life, every tiny detail is manifest in divine perfection and it helps us understand that we are a part of a larger system and that what we do affects changes at both the micro and macro level.

"Synergetics is the empirical study of systems in transformation, with an emphasis on whole system behaviours unpredicted by the behaviour of any components in isolation. R. Buckminster Fuller (1895–1983) named and pioneered the field. His two-volume work Synergetics: Explorations in the Geometry of Thinking."

Buckminster Fuller had Punarvasu sun & jupiter

I think I had made a post about how Punarvasu natives tend to make geometric art that features repetitive patterns and motifs. I thought Fuller's use of the term "Geometry of Thinking" was very Punarvasu of him.

Pls look him up and his work, its very interesting and if you have Punarvasu placements you might find things you resonate with. I dont want to make this post any longer so I'm not including more of his work although all of it really fits with the theme tbh.

Amartya Sen, the Indian economist and philosopher has Swati Sun, he is best known for his contributions to welfare economics, social choice theory, and development economics. His work incorporates the same holistic view of how everything exists in close interaction with everything else, interconnectedness as well as an all encompassing-ness are themes that dominate his work. Society affects the market, the market affects society, all of this affects interpersonal relationships, it takes a Swati/Punarvasu native to deeply embody this sentiment in their thought/work.

George Harrison aka the Spiritual Beatle had Swati moon, Jupiter in punarvasu amatyakaraka.

"It's being here now that's important. There's no past and there's no future. Time is a very misleading thing. All there is ever, is the now. We can gain experience from the past, but we can't relive it; and we can hope for the future, but we don't know if there is one."

This quote by him really sums it up.

Robert A Heinlein had Punarvasu sun, jupiter and rahu

Heinlein used his science fiction as a way to explore provocative social and political ideas and to speculate how progress in science and engineering might shape the future of politics, race, religion, and sex. Within the framework of his science-fiction stories, Heinlein repeatedly addressed certain social themes: the importance of individual liberty and self-reliance, the nature of sexual relationships, the obligation individuals owe to their societies, the influence of organized religion on culture and government, and the tendency of society to repress nonconformist thought. He also speculated on the influence of space travel on human cultural practices.

This is yet another example of the interconnectedness of Punarvasu as well as the analytical nature of these natives.

I will end this post here because I've been rambling for too long but I hope this was informative!! Apologies that this was kinda science heavy and not very pop culture centric :/

#vedic astro notes #astrology observations #sidereal astrology #vedic astrology #nakshatras #astrology #astro notes #astro observations #astrology notes #astroblr #Punarvasu #swati #Jupiter #rahu #carl jung #Freud

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tobyscloset · 6 months

Text

Okay based on the trailer I would like to make some headcanons :3

- what I noticed was that Darius' first instinct when he heard a noise outside; that his first instinct was to immediately zap it, no thought about what it could be, he just used that zappy thing with no hesitation, and was genuinely surprised to see Ben.

- and it wasn't Ben's first time catching the rod either, you could see he wasn't phased at all, he just said like calmly "Hey Darius :]" so I like to think that Ben knows that Darius is scared and traumatised from the island, and he expects Darius to lash out with the rod, which is why he reacted so quickly.

📌 - also that Darius has like 394777 things set up to make noise if anything passes, like to get warned beforehand, you can really tell he's genuinely paranoid

- I feel like Isla Nublar ruined dinosaurs for him, yes, he still loves them. But he wasn't as paranoid about them as he is in Chaos theory, he admired them in camp cretaceous but now it just feels like he's scared, scared of whatever dinosaur there is. Even if it's little.

- why is Ben so tall (i personally LOVE his design but they could give him a fringe or something he looks like a dad 😭)

- DARIUS' FRECKLES. NO EXPLANATION NEEDED.

- Someone is hunting them, the conclusion I came up with is Kenji's dad, he was so pissed off that he got defeated by 6 teenagers. A millionaire with mind controlled Dinos.

- In conclusion I'd genuinely like chaos theory to focus more on Darius' issues, which I feel like were never really brought up in JWCC. Like yeah they brought up Ben's "death" and his dad's death, but they didn't bring up Kash, how he was forced to hurt both his friends and the animals he loves(d), how he was the leader at the ages of 12-13 and how he would do anything to get the others off the island. Yes I have my hopes up for benrius, but I genuinely hope that Darius gets to open up about how he feels, during and after the island.

📌 [I circled the bottles/bells that make noises to alert Darius]

#camp cretaceous #jwcc #darius bowman #ben pincus #chaos theory #benrius #jwct #Tobias ranting for a long time #jurassic world chaos theory #jurassic world camp cretaceous #:3 #headcanon #benrius 2024

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thesimline · 11 days

Note

Can I please request some hair bands / glam rock type of hairstyles please? Maxis Match or Maxis Mix if possible. Thank you so much, love your blog!! ❤

Thanks so much for sending through such a fun CC request! I've tried to include a mix of styles influenced by the glam rock and hair metal artists of the 70s, 80s and 90s, so hopefully I've captured the vibe you were looking for. Be sure to toggle off the masculine filter in CAS as a lot of these hairs are tagged as feminine. CC links under the cut.

1 - Nebula by Clumsy Alien

2 - Rod's Sailing Hair by Birksches

3 - Stevie V1 by Serenity

4 - Mike by JoshSeoh

5 - Long Wavy Over Shoulder by Birksches

6 - Long Rose Petals by Daylife Sims

7 - Natan V2 by Natalia Auditore

8 - Tam by Daylife Sims

9 - Frisbee by Birksches

10 - Ronna by Sunivaa

11 - Axel by Mellosaki

12 - Steampunk Master by Daylife Sims

13 - Trevor by JoshSeoh

14 - Aurum by Tianshi

15 - Felipe by Merci (TSR)

16 - Mandy by Clumsy Alien

17 - Eddie by Simstrouble

18 - Rami by Birksches

With thanks to some amazing creators: @clumsyalienn @joshseoh @natalia-auditore @daylifesims @mellosakicc @serenity-cc @simstrouble

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theitgirlnetwork · 4 months

Text

Earn It

Ch. 5: Pretend With Me

Note: Hello! Thank you for all of the support you've all shown this story. Thank you for the notes, reblogs, messages, and comments I love interacting with you all! We've got our first time skip so I hope it's not too confusing. Once again, I'll remind everyone that the characters are meant to be just as complex as those in the movie and so they will do...questionable things. But that's part of the fun...not being them! So I hope you all enjoy! <3

Warnings: Cheating (fr this time y'all :(), explicit sexual content (MDNI!!!!!), small mention of disordered eating, and some strong language.

Taglist: @spookystitchery@anehkael@fkaams@butterflyybabe@sun2flower @holierthancunt @silkenthusiasts @wolflover384 @liziihorta @summerssover @jackierose902109

Present Day (California) :

“They won’t answer any questions about that, don’t bother asking. Make sure there’s at least one close up on the ring and we only film from the angles we discussed, understand me?” Kiely takes a deep breath, brushes her hands down her dress, straightening out the wrinkles at the bottom and noting to herself that she needs to stop by Target today to get a new steamer.

This job is a big opportunity, she can’t afford to fuck it up. Out of all the applicants they decided to give her a chance. She pushes through the dark front doors, fixing a potted flower plant hanging near the doorway before glancing back sternly at the camera crew and closing the door.

Kiely does wish that her trial week wasn’t the same week as this interview.

She presses her finger to her earpiece to turn on the speaker as her heels click across marble floors, her steps are long strides. “Crews’ in place, we need a clear house, just the family. They want this in one take. Let’s go.”

The blonde woman raises a shaky fist to the Grenadil African Blackwood door, knocking softly once before steeling herself and knocking more assertively the second time.

“Yeah?”

Kiely turns the cold golden door knob and stops right at the threshold of the master bedroom, her back rod straight as she addresses the people in front of her.

“Mr. and Mrs. Donaldson? They’re ready for you.”

12 Years Earlier:

3:22 p.m.: So, that smoothie that you recommended? It’s fucking disgusting.

Heaven giggles at her phone before flipping it over so she can’t see the front of the screen, sliding down into a split to complete her stretches. She hums in satisfaction to herself as she stretches forward to reach her front foot. It’s peaceful like this.

She loves coming to the studio early. After the bullshit classes she takes to remain eligible for the dance program, she rushes here to just dance. No other dancers, no teacher or choreographer watching. Heaven can just be with the choreography.

She has a habit of getting fixated on a piece and doing it over and over until she masters it. Then, she does it over and over until it’s not fun anymore. It’s her award winning strategy, to actually fall in love with the pieces she dances to.

For some reason, she was struggling to become Juliet. She knows she has the technique for the dance, that much is obvious. But something about this role wasn’t connecting for her. She just feels like she can’t force herself to give the vibe of a 15 year old girl whose parents were absent enough to let her fall in love with a 20 year old loser.

Oh and Romeo can’t fucking dance.

Correction. Peter who is supposed to be Romeo can’t fucking dance.

Heaven stands from her split, grabbing her phone with her to respond to the text waiting for her, not noticing the uncontrollable smile that had formed on her face.

3:30 p.m.: It’s not supposed to taste good, it’s supposed to be good for you, Arthur.

They had been texting back and forth a lot since the birthday party. Not many phone calls, but messages here and there. They range from checking in to arguing about the various media they both consume. It’s like an unspoken agreement they have not to talk about Tashi or Patrick. Anytime they did the jokes would halt and suddenly Heaven would feel a rock in her stomach, unable to text back.

Her phone buzzes again and before she can open the little white envelope on the screen she hears several sets of footsteps behind her. Without turning around she rushes over to put her phone in her duffle bag and heads back to the middle of the room, settling into first position next to Peter and staring tensely forward as they wait for the rest of the cast and the premier maitre de ballet, Madame Fontaine. Along with the older woman is her assistant choreographer, Fallon, the only other person who will acknowledge that Peter can’t fucking dance.

“Afternoon, all.” Madame Fontaine offers the group a brief, tight smile as she stands before them, her flats clicking on the stage. “Romeo, Juliet. We will work on the pair of pas de deux performances after warm-up.”

“Madame.” Heaven nods, turning to go to the bar toward the back of the room. She can feel Peter behind her, looking at her. His cheap ass cologne fills her nostrils as he leans forward to murmur in her ear.

“Think you can actually act like you at least like me today?”

Heaven slips into third position, facing forward as she continues through her warm up, shrugging at his question. “I don’t need to like you, Juliet needs to be in love with Romeo. The dance will show that.”

“Maybe if we spent some time together-”

“I’m in a relationship.” she dismisses.

“Really?” He scoffs. Gripping the bar Peter stretches his leg into the air, watching Heaven do the same, he strains to get his kick as high as hers. “What does your boyfriend do?”

“He’s a professional tennis player. So is my girlfriend.”

Peter’s brows furrow as he watches the woman in front of him wrap up her warm ups, cracking her neck absently as he stares at her. “You…so…”

“Okay.” Heaven huffs, turning to the man, craning her neck and fixing him with a wary look as she stands facing him with her arms crossed. “Yes, I have a boyfriend, his name is Patrick. I also have a girlfriend, her name is Tashi and she is the girl you saw here before. Yes, they are also together, no we’re not looking for a fourth and if we were it would never be you. No, we aren’t open so don’t ask me out again. And Peter, even if I was single, I would literally fucking never fuck someone who can’t do a simple fucking lift.” With that she pushes past him to find Madame Fontaine stopping when she hears him over her shoulder.

“Well maybe if you weren’t so heavy I could lift you easier.”

Heaven doesn’t even bat an eyelash at the insult, instead just pursing her lips and getting into the position for the first pose of the “Love Dance”, the first pas de deux of the piece. As she goes through the movements on the stage no one would be able to tell that Peter had said what he said.

She holds him close and twirls prettily. She leans into him with all of the trust of the world as he butchers his half of the piece, failing in the lift not because of her weight, she tells herself, but because his hand placement is wrong.

Heaven thinks logically, like Tashi would tell her to. Other people have lifted her before. It’s not her.

So she can swallow the lump in her throat until after rehearsal is over.

“Answer.” Heaven bites her lip as she drums her fingers against the steering wheel, her phone is balanced between her cheek and shoulder, vibrating against her ear as it rings. “Tashi, answer.”

Hi, this is Tashi Duncan, leave a message after the beep, thanks.

She shouldn’t have come. Tashi has two matches this week, Pepperdine and then Princeton, she doesn’t need to be distracted. She doesn’t have time to be distracted. That’s not what they do to each other, she knows Tashi needs to focus before a match just like Heaven needs to be distracted before a performance.

But after rehearsal ended, her focus on the beautiful dance, and getting her body to move the way it needed to to tell the story faded. Then all she was left with was the sound of Peter’s voice mixing with her mother’s and the personal trainer she’d hired her when she was only 10. And suddenly she found herself speeding down the road in a silent car, driving 5 hours and 13 minutes to Stanford.

She told herself as she weaved through the cars that she just needed to get away. That this was okay because she was supposed to be heading down the next day anyway. That she was only here to see Tashi.

“Fuck.” The girl huffs, pulling the phone away so hard one of her hoop earrings falls out of her ear, tumbling to the floor as she dials another number. Unlike Tashi, he actually picks up.

“Hey, babe.”

“Hi, baby, hi.” She sits up against the leather seat. “Are you, um, busy, or…”

“Uh, no, not-not really.” Patrick’s muffled voice through the phone settles her nerves a little. “What’s up?”

“Nothing I just wanted to talk to you or something-” Heaven hears laughter and the clattering of glass in the background. She can faintly make out the words to Candy Shop playing in whatever bar he was pretending not to be in. “You’re out.”

“Babe, I can talk, are you okay?”

“Mhm.”

“I hate that ‘mhm’, ‘hm’ shit you guys do just…Heaven, just tell me what’s wrong.”

“I had, like, the most shitty rehearsal.” Heaven looks out at a couple of students stumbling drunkenly, shaking her head to herself as she sees a t-shirt with distinct letters spelling out “The Duncanator” on it. “The guy playing Romeo, he’s like a fucking idiot and he wants to fuck me-”

“Don’t most people?”

“I’m not-” Heaven huffs out a breath, head dropping forward against the wheel in annoyance. This is who her boyfriend is. He makes jokes about serious things. He doesn’t take anything serious because it never fucking is. But what is she supposed to do? Berate him for trying to make her laugh when she’s upset. Get mad at him for perpetually being in a state of relaxation that she’s almost never in. Heaven doesn’t want to live in the land of not giving a fuck about anything, she isn’t built like that. “H-yeah. That’s funny.” she forces a giggle, scrubbing her hand angrily at the drops that managed to squeeze their way out of her eyes.

“Good, you’re laughing, m’glad you’re feeling better.”

“Yep, thank you, Patrick.”

“No problem, Hev, look I’m out right now but I’ll see you tomorrow right? You’re coming down to Stanford right?”

“Um, yeah.” She says staring out at the school buildings from the parking lot. “I’ll be there.”

After a couple more slurred jokes from her boyfriend who shouldn’t be drinking while on tour and a couple attempted calls to Tashi, Heaven climbs out of the car, deciding to just go to the girl’s building herself.

She was determined not to go crawling to he who shall not be named. No. She would not see Art, because then he would give her that look. That look he does with his stupid monochromatic eyes that puppy dog look he gets when she’s happy, when she’s sad, when she’s anything. Like he’ll just do anything. It’s distracting and it makes her feel weird.

And she’s taken. So, they’ll stick to texting, that’s safe. So, no, she won’t call him. Not to tell him about her shitty day. Not even to ask him where the actual hell Tashi’s building was.

So instead she planned to wander aimlessly until she saw a building that looked familiar.

She walks along the cobblestone roads, squinting to find something that would remind her which direction she was supposed to be going in.

“Heaven?”

The woman freezes at the voice behind her, cursing herself and whatever god that curated this situation as she slowly turns to see Art. “Arthur.”

Her breath catches as she gets a good look at him. He’s even hotter than she remembers, standing tall amongst a group of his teammates. His racket bag slung across his back, the strap tight against his chest that was currently filling out the dorky ass Stanford Men’s Tennis shirt that he was somehow making look like the sexiest outfit ever.

This college tennis shit was really working for him.

But what brings the wide smile to her face that she couldn’t bite back, despite how much the logical part of her brain telling her she needed to, is those damn puppy dog eyes and the bright crooked smile he offers her.

Art takes a step forward, it almost looks like a reflex, but he pauses, smile dropping slightly as he tucks his hands into his tennis shorts, waiting to see what Heaven does.

And she can’t help it. Her legs move on their own, she can swear she didn’t consciously take three quick steps over to Art. And she didn’t take two more big ones when he met her the rest of the way, arms open as he dips low lifting her up and hugs her waist. And she definitely doesn’t wrap her legs around his waist when they meet. “Hi.” he says softly, swinging her back and forth.

“Hi!” she smiles back.

“What are you” he places her down so close to himself that their chests brush, craning his head down to look at her, brushing his thumbs over her hips through her t-shirt before releasing her fully. “What are you doing here?”

“Um, Pepperdine.” She tries to shrug easily, struggling to focus with him this close.

“You’re…uh, you’re a day early.” Art says, biting his lip a little, rocking on his feet.

“I know, I just had a rough day and I came to, um-”

“See Tashi.” He finishes for her, nodding his head. “You had a rough day?” He asks, eyes searching hers as he ignores the calls from his friends behind him, demanding that he introduce them to his hot friend. Art’s lips part as if he’s planning to say something before he snaps it shut, a beat passes before he trusts himself to speak again. “She’s gonna be on the court until late.”

“Fuck, yeah, she’s gonna be pissed, she hates when I throw her off before matches, she has this whole ritual situation, I just really couldn’t be at school right now.” Heaven groans, tossing her head back in frustration.

“You could, you could come with me. I’m gonna go off campus for a little bit, go to Dave & Buster’s with my friends, you should come and blow off some steam, Hev.”

Heaven glances around suddenly conscious that she drove all the way here in a haze like a maniac and despite telling herself she wasn’t here for Art she managed to be here, standing in front of him, notably not with Tashi. And yet, next thing she knew, she was kicking her feet, sitting on Art’s bed while he took a shower, so they could go to Dave & Buster’s.

Art knows that what he’s doing is not…healthy. It’s not good that he’s currently out with his best friend’s girlfriend (though one might still argue that Patrick had two and Art had none.) and he was enjoying the fact that everyone here thought she was his.

It had started with his teammates. They’d seen the movie scene-esque display of Art lifting the girl in the air in excitement upon seeing her and suddenly, murmurs of the fact that Art doesn’t really entertain any of the girls who talk to him on campus seemed to make sense to them. They nudged him as they walked and wiggled their eyebrows as he held the door open for Heaven, guiding her with his hand on the small of her back.

He’d tried correcting them. Originally. Sort’ve.

Well, Matt asked if she was his girl and he’d responded with ‘c’mon man, what does it look like?’

Jesus, maybe there is a reason me and Patrick are friends.

But they were having so much fun, playing games and Heaven had been smiling so much. At him. And he didn’t have to share it. He was fucking happy.

“Let me get you something to eat, on me, Hev, come on.” Art says nudging her as he pulls their game card out of the skee ball machine. “Then we can talk about your shitty day.”

Heaven’s nose scrunches in a way that makes Art want to kiss it, her lips, whatever else she has to offer and she snatches the game card from him and takes a couple of steps back, a smirk on her face as she holds it away from him. “Or…we could play some more games.”

“I’m hungry.” Art cocks his head to the side, reaching for the card and laughing when she snatches it away. “And I want you to come eat with me. Please.”

“One more game.”

“Come on, Art, the lady wants one more game.” One of his teammates, Kyle says smugly, tossing his arm around Heaven as he approaches from behind.

Heaven’s lip curls in dismissal for a moment before her expression morphs into something more sinister. “Yeah,” she says sweetly, “M’just asking for one more.”

“Hev.” Art scoffs, holding his hand out again, embarrassed at how irritated he is by Kyle’s arm over her shoulders.

“How about ping pong? If you win, we’ll go get some food and talk about whatever you want to talk about. And if,” her manicured hand reaches up and pats the one Kyle is dangling off her shoulder. “Kyle wins, I’ll play some games with him.”

Something feels so familiar about this moment. The innocent look on her face was only marred by the challenging raised eyebrow that Heaven couldn’t help but have. The look of expectation. It reminds Art of the day he’d lost to Patrick. The expression of ‘is that all?’ on her face.

This is stupid. He thinks, working his jaw as he stares down at the girl. It’s dumb.

“This is really fucking dumb.” he laughs, bouncing the ping pong ball on the table, rolling his eyes when Heaven shrugs, tilting her head as if to say, ‘go on’. “You’re seriously gonna go with him if I lose?”

“You’re not gonna fucking lose.” she murmurs under her breath. “We’re just having fun.”

“You’re trying to get out of talking about whatever you’re upset about, but m’not gonna forget-”

“Kiss for good luck?”

That has him whipping his head to her. He would be embarrassed if he could think about anything other than the offer she’d placed on the table. Like a dog to a bone immediately all of his focus is drawn down to her lips. “What?”

“You heard me, Arthur.” Heaven grabs his hand holding the paddle and brings it up between their faces, switching it’s position so that he’s holding the handle out to her and brings her glossed lips down to it, kissing it softly. “Kay, good luck!” she chirps, bouncing away from him to watch the game.

“That’s not fair!” Kyle calls from the opposite end of the table.

“Shut the fuck up, Kyle.”

As dumb as Art thinks this stupid little was, he absolutely demolishes Kyle. Like it wasn’t even fun, at least, not for Art’s opponent. The blond played like he was at the fucking US Open and didn’t let the guy get more than one point that he only got because Art briefly looked away, eyes following Heaven as she skirts off to use the bathroom. “I think I won that one, Kyle.”

“Jesus, Donaldson, I wasn’t really going to get to go off with your girl. It’s fuckin’ ping pong at Dave & fuckin’ Buster’s.” His teammate rolls his eyes, tossing the paddle on the table before stalking off.

Art feels the heat rise to his face. All night while he’d been enjoying playing pretend he’d somehow avoided Heaven hearing what the guys were saying. He was quite literally ready to tuck his head to hide from the embarrassment when he felt an arm slide and loop with his.

“Oh, what the fuck ever, he’s a sore loser, you were better, that’s why he’s not fucking ranked like you are.”

He wants to ask her how she knows that. Did Tashi tell her or did she look up the men’s teams rankings on her own. But instead he just guides her over to a table to collect his prize.

“Take the last one.”

“Mm no, can’t have it.” Heaven says, taking a sip of her water.

Art’s jaw clenches as he thinks about how the smallest attempt at a bullshit comeback from some dickhead had her questioning herself when Art thinks she’s the most beautiful thing in the world. “He’s an asshole.”

“I agree.”

“And he’s wrong, Hev.”

“Not completely.” she shrugs, swirling her straw in her glass. “Not statistically…for a ballerina.”

He crosses his arms, leaning back against the red booth seat. “Well, maybe male ballerina’s need to work out more then, I can pick you up just fine.”

“Art.”

“I’ll come be Romeo. Put him out of a job and get to kiss you, that sounds like a pretty good deal.”

Heaven laughs, shifting in her seat, lifting one leg into the chair, wrapping her arms around it and resting her cheek on her knee. “Thank you for letting me talk about it.”

“Yeah.” Art smiles, quietly taking a sip of his own water.

“Now say what you wanted to say.”

“I didn’t wanna say anything.”

“Yes you do,” Heaven scoffs, you’ve got that look on your face, you wanna say something just say it, Arthur.”

“I told you I hated that name and you haven’t stopped saying it since.” he snorts.

“It’s your given name.” She exclaims. Her big brown eyes stare up at him from across the table and he can feel his heart racing in his chest. “Okay. Art. You always let me talk to you. Talk to me.”

Art swallows deeply. This is the part where she runs. He gets real and honest about his feelings and she retreats to Tashi’s side or under Patrick’s arm. He knows this isn’t healthy to do to himself. But then he has the shittiest thought that crosses his mind.

This time they’re not here.

He’d won the game today. There was no Patrick to beat in tennis, he wasn’t in a tug-o-war with Tashi. He wasn’t distracted by anything. He should at least try, shouldn’t he?

Like, how long could the situation between the 3 of them last anyway. Here she was again, upset, alone, and where were they. Tashi might have some years on him regarding Heaven but Art knows Patrick. He loves the guy, but he’s not good for them, either of them. This was just some fantasy for him, having two girlfriends, it wasn’t real for him. That’s why he’s here and she’s not. That’s why he was there when Heaven needed him when Patrick was out doing god knows what.

“Why didn’t you call me when you were upset? We text all of the time.”

Heaven breathes out heavily as she nods her head, as if she’d been expecting this conversation. “I called my girlfriend. She was busy.”

“And then?”

“And then I called my boyfriend, Art. Your best friend, Patrick, remember him?” Art scoffs, shaking his head and Heaven sits up fully. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“No, what?” she persists.

“It’s just, what makes him your boyfriend? Because I just…Patrick Zweig isn’t really the boyfriend type, is all.” He shrugs.

“Maybe he changed for me and Tashi. We tend to have that effect on people.” Heaven jokes.

Art laughs humorously. “I know.”

“Oh.”

“I just want you to be with someone that loves you.” He says in a tired tone. “That’s all I’ve been wanting for you-” He knows he should stop here. That placing seeds of doubt wasn’t the way he should win her. This was fucked up. She’s his friends’ girlfriend. His friend.

“And, you don’t think I have someone like that now?” She asks. That same brow raised as she crossed her arms, staring him down. It's the same bone chilling look she gave Tashi when she’d asked her about her audition dance. He can’t help but wilt a little under the stare, not backing down completely but suddenly questioning his decision to open this line of discussion.

“I…I just want you to be with someone who loves you, Heaven.”

Her face softens and Art can breathe a little easier. Brown eyes wide as she takes him in, shifting in her seat back and forth as if she was really thinking.

“You really mean that, don’t you?”

Art nods solemnly, hesitating slightly before standing, stepping out of the booth and walking over to Heaven’s side, holding his hand out to her. “I know what I’m about to say is so fucked up, and if you dont want to, I’ll listen. We’ll be friends, but…let me show you. I’ve, jesus this is embarrassing, I’ve been pretending you were mine all night. Pretend with me for tonight. Let me show you. Please.”

They're quiet the whole way back to campus. Heaven held Art’s hand, or maybe she let him hold hers…neither of them were quite sure. And they made their way back. And they both waited. They both were on the edge of their seats to see what happens next. They waited for Heaven to open her mouth, to ask him with indignity to direct her to Tashi’s dorm because, surely, the girl was back from the gym now.

They waited for the wave of guilt to hit Art, for him to remember who she actually belongs to, to remember that she’s only his in his fantasies and send her on her way to wait for Patrick to get here tomorrow. But instead, when his phone vibrates in the cupholder of his car with a text from his best friend, he simply flips it over before Heaven can see.

Once they’re safely inside his dorm Heaven is basically shaking next to him and he pauses, brushing his thumb against the smooth skin of her cheek. “Sweetheart, we don’t have to do anything.”

I’ll just die if we don’t, that’s all. He thinks.

Her eyes are shut tightly but she leans her face into his hand. “I’m scared. Meeting you guys was just supposed to be fun. This feels…” serious. “I’m…I’ve never felt like this for anyone other than her. So I was trying to avoid you.” she whispers, finally opening her eyes to look at him.

His heart almost hurts because he’s causing her stress. Almost. But this was the first time that she’s been clear that she’s feeling what he feels, and he physically cannot stand not kissing her. “I’m sorry.” He breathes, leaning down, brushing her lips with his own. “M’sorry.”

The gap finally closes between the two of them and Art feels like he’s really breathing for the first time. Like, up until this point he’d been holding his breath his whole life, like he had a taste of real air when they’d kissed in that theater and now he was breathing. The only air worth breathing is Heaven’s.

Heaven’s head swims as Art lifts her up, laying her down onto his small bed, placing her gently as if she was fine china. It feels unfair. She didn’t know that something could feel this good. Being with Tashi and Patrick, it’s the first time she’s really felt something. Tashi was the first person Heaven ever loved. But it was so alarming how quickly Art was making all of that feel less all consuming. All she could think about was him. The only time her mine was this clear, this focused, was…when she danced.

Art places kisses along Heaven’s cheek, jaw and neck before making his way to her ear, groaning when he feels her hand in his hair. “Heaven, baby, let me touch you, please.”

He pulls back to look at her to wait. He needed confirmation. He needed to know she was okay with it. That it would make her happy. “Okay.” she looks up at him from his pillow with a soft look, lifting her hand to his cheek and smiles gently as he kisses the palm of her hand.

“Yeah?” He asks desperately as he kisses his way up her arm.

Heaven brings Art’s hand to her lips, mirroring his action and kissing his palm before nodding.

That’s all he needs.

He has to focus hard as he breathes in her sweet, flowery scent as he drags his lips along her torso before he reaches the edge of where her t-shirt meets her pants, nudging the fabric up with his nose to expose the skin of her stomach and kissing his way back down. He feels himself hardening in his own pants and wills himself to calm down so he doesn’t cum before he even gets to really touch her. He reaches his hand down, undoing her buttons on her pants and looks up to the ceiling briefly as he hears her kicking the fabric down her legs, counting backward from 20.

“Kiss me again?” she asks sweetly.

The question barely leaves her lips before he’s racing up to meld their lips back together, humming in relief when he gets to breathe from her again. When he finally lets her get some real air, she takes his dominant hand this time holding it in both of hers. “I love your hands, Art. They’re strong,” she kisses one finger, “and talented,” she kisses the next, “and part of you. Let you play some really good fucking tennis.”

Art’s laugh turns into a moan when she places the two fingers into her warm mouth, staring up at him through her lashes. “Oh fuck, Heaven.”

She pops his fingers out of his mouth and she wraps her arm around his neck to hold his face close as Art slides hand down her body, holding the wet fingers away as he pauses briefly to squeeze her breast, drinking in the sound she makes. He would say he wants that noise as his ringtone, but then other people would hear it. Heaven. That’s what she is. His own personal heaven.

As he pushes his fingers into her his own grunt frustrates him as he tries to memorize the gasp that falls from her plump lips and chases it with his own. He pushes his fingers in and out of her again and again to hear her voice pitch as she chants his name and gasps obscenities. His own moans and whines fall from his lips and his ears and cheeks turn red at how loud he is.

His suitemates have to be used to the sound of him cumming with her name on his lips by now, especially considering his one attempt at not being in love with his best friend’s girlfriend that led him to stumble home from a bar just off campus with a sorority girl who promptly slapped the shit out of him and stormed out of the suite screeching when she’d given him head and he cried Heaven’s name when he came. To be fair, he’d gotten her off first…and apologized immensely.

But this? They weren’t gonna wanna room with him next semester. Fuck them.

He shivers as he feels her tugging his shirt over his head before pulling him back down to her, kissing him deeply again. “I’m gonna cum.” she whimpers, burying her face in his shoulder.

“Wait, wait, wait, please let me look at you.” Art pleads. Heaven’s head falls back against the pillow as her back arches slightly off of the mattress as she reaches her peak and Art nearly loses it from the sight. Not yet.

“Shit.” Heaven breathes kissing his cheek and neck, running her hands through his blond hair. “Let…let me-”

“One more.” Art blurts, sitting up and looking down at her, smoothing his hand along her body in awe. “Let me have one more, please. Let me taste you, baby. You’re so pretty, Hev. You’re,” he kisses her lower stomach, blue-brown eyes on her as he bites her panties, pulling them down with his teeth. “You’re a goddess. I want…I love you.”

“Art-” she gasps, pushing up onto her elbows to look down at him between her legs.

“One more, Heaven, please.” He pleads one more time, stopping just short of his destination to give her time. If…if she didn’t want it he wouldn’t do it. But he’d die. He would, he’d fucking die.

But all she does is bite the collar of her shirt. And Art could fucking cry at how good she tastes. He kisses her center deeply, licking his way up her slit, sucking on her clit, holding her legs open as she squirms above him. Murmuring against her through his own moans. “I know, baby, I know.” He reaches his hand up tugging the fabric of the shirt to pull it from her mouth to stop her from muffling her cries. “Heaven, beautiful, talk to me, honey, please.”

“I-I’m, it feels so good.”

“Yeah? I wanna make you feel so good.” he whines against her thigh.

“Fuck, Art-” she turns her head to muffle into the pillow, squeaking when he gently tugs her down the bed away from it.

“Please don’t fight it. Cum for me baby, please. One more, Heaven.”

“Fuck.” She gasps.

This time when she cums Art can’t help it. Between her sounds filling his ears, her scent in his nose and her taste on his tongue, he was moaning out her name and cumming in his pants before he could stop it. He breathes heavily and sits on the bed because he’s genuinely worried he’s gonna pass out, the black spots in his vision apparently an after effect of coming harder than he’d ever had. “Fuck, Heaven. Heaven?” He breathes, confused when he can finally see again and the girl is no longer in his bed and his room door is open.

She comes padding back through his door and Art thinks if he wasn’t empty, he could cum again to the sight of her stumbling back on wobbly legs, wearing his shirt, holding a washcloth. “Least I could do since you tried to kill me by making me nut.” She sits next to him and he intakes a breath as she unbuttons his pants, coaxing him out of them and his boxers and taking the warm cloth and cleaning his dick.

“Fuck, baby-” he whines, burying his face in her hair. “Okay-”

“You know you sound like you’re having sex when you play tennis? Or you’re playing tennis when you have sex. Since you played tennis first.” She smiles, smoothing his messy blond hair.

“Fuck tennis, I wanna do that.” He jokes, lifting his head and reaching for a clean pair of boxers from his drawer before climbing into his bed and holding his arms out for her to climb into.

“As a pro? That’s prostitution, handsome.” she smiles, laying herself between his arms and entangling their legs.

“M’not chargin’ you.” he mumbles sleepily, kissing her head.

“Shut up, go to sleep.”

#oc #love #art donaldson #art donaldson challengers #art donaldson x you #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x tashi duncan #art donaldson x oc #art donaldson x patrick zweig #patrick zweig x oc #patrick zweig x tashi duncan #patrick zweig #tashi duncan x oc #tashi duncan x reader #earn it #challengers spoilers #challengers movie #challengers 2024

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epicbuddieficrecs · 2 months

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Weekly Recap | July 15th-21st 2024

I have a week off of work, woohoo! This week I mostly read all of my favourite WIPs that updated multiple times, thank you all for keeping me well fed 😎

Complete

is there some place where we can go right now? (i don't think that it can wait) by sibylsleaves/ @sibylsleaves (Established Buddie, Bar Sex, PWP | 2K | Explicit): Buck, Eddie, and the inside of a bar bathroom

you call me pretty little thing by sibylsleaves/ @sibylsleaves (Established Buddie, Panty Kink, PWP | Explicit): “Buck,” Eddie breathes after a moment. “Are you wearing—?” Buck nips at Eddie’s slack mouth and says coyly, “Why don’t you see for yourself?” Eddie, it seems, doesn’t need to be told twice. He shoves Buck off his lap, tearing his sweatpants down his hips to reveal the tiny, pink lace panties Buck has on beneath them.

looking for something dumb to do by sibylsleaves/ @sibylsleaves (Buddie Wedding, PWP | 4K | Explicit): It’s also not unusual that the app bay is almost empty when they walk inside, save for one engine parked along the side. What is unusual is the rows of white folding chairs facing the back wall. And the archway adorned with greenery and pale pink blossoms set up beneath the loft. And all of their friends milling about the app bay, dressed up like… Like they’re attending a wedding.

Hell or High Water by glorious_spoon/ @glorious-spoon (4x04: What's Your Grievance, PWP, First Time | 5K | Explicit): That’s Buck’s cue to put a stop to this before it crosses a line they can’t come back from. Before he says something or does something that means Eddie will never touch him or smile at him or let him into his home again. Buck breaks things; that’s what he does. And he’s tried so hard not to break this.

🔥 my man says he loves me (never says he loves me not) by colonoscopys/ @colonoscopys (Post-S7, Identity Porn | 9K | General): It’s the summer after Eddie blows his life up that he realizes he kinda wants to do it again. He’s looking at the TV, watching some shitty, fuzzy screen show that Buck favored on his last shift, and letting sleep kinda wash in and wash out. There’s an ad after a while. “Are you struggling with being in love with your best friend too?” The man asks. “You should sign up for inlovewithmybestfriendandgoingtodie.com. A support group dedicated to people in love with their best friend, inlovewithmybestfriendandgoingtodie.com is a great way to learn how to cope and survive when you’re in love with someone you’ll never have!” Eddie gapes at the screen.

WIP

🔥 Held Up a Lightning Rod (Wonder Why I'm Struck) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Not A Firefighter Eddie, Sugar Baby Buck | 17/22 | 88K | Explicit): When Eddie Diaz stumbles his way into money, he finds himself one of the most eligible bachelors in Los Angeles - to his dismay. He needs a way to get people off his back without confessing his messy marital situation, and Shannon's still not answering his calls, so he caves to a friend's suggestion: hire someone to pretend to be his partner. Enter Evan "Buck" Buckley: sugar baby, fire fighter, and the man about to turn Eddie's world upside down.

🔥 Long Death by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Post-S7, Vampire AU | 8/12 | 33K | Explicit): In the summer of 2024, a never before seen form of vampirism breaks out in Los Angeles. Just as Eddie is about to get his son back. Six months later, Buck's life is permanently changed.

drift past the flowers. by dylaesthetics (Post-S6, (Un)requited Love | 6/12 | 18K | Teen): OR Buck and Natalia get engaged, and Eddie flees the state about it. A petty email correspondence ensues.

🔥loves a game, wanna play? by 42hrb/ @exhuastedpigeon (Post-S7, Love Island AU | 6/13 | 26K | Mature): In the aftermath of Chris leaving for the summer, Buck convinces Eddie they should apply for Love Island together.

🔥 Things We're All Too Young to Know by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon S1-S6, Divergent Post-S6 | 131/? | 413K | Mature): This is a love story. Even if it doesn’t always look like it. Even if it doesn’t always feel like it. A look back on Eddie and Buck's lives up to now, and what led them to each other, interpreted from the current 9-1-1 canon.

🔥 If You Can Make the Music by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon Divergent, | 4/5 | 11K | Mature): Spin-off Sequel to Evan Buckley & the Coma-Verse of Madness - Chapter 5 (Seaside): A year after a whirlwind two week love affair with bartender Buck in Galveston, Texas, Eddie Diaz finds himself coincidentally relocating to the area. But when he attempts to reconnect with Buck, he's in for an unfortunate surprise. (Part 3 of Coma-Verse)

#epic buddie fic rec #buddie fic rec #buddie fanfic #buddie fic #buddie fanfiction #buddie

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copperbezel · 1 month

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Zephyr Slip

At the end of last year, before I'd begun working on Bit Cobalt, I ran into some paleoart of Austroraptor, a dromaeosaur (raptor) from Argentina. Austroraptor is one of the largest dromaeosaurs, with a long, narrow, Big Bird snoot, conical teeth that probably point to fishing, and small forelimbs, as well as leg proportions that hint at a runner. Much of the paleoart I saw depicted Austroraptor in waterbird colors, which gave it a soft and friendly appearance, immediately my new favorite dinosaur.

So I drew an Austroraptor and then a robotic one, adding a quail topknot or ahoge feather, and started to think about making a transforming figure that would change from this animal into a humanoid robot. But a transformation from cute robot girl to cute robot girl, except one of them is a dinosaur, seemed a bit redundant, and there would be compromises in both directions that would detract rather than add.

But a couple of months later, I saw a particular motor scooter and something clicked, and the game was on. I love motor scooters, and they're a fantastic accessory for other figures on the shelf. I went through two foamcore prototypes to nail down the transformation, making it as simple and sturdy as I could manage and making sure both modes would scale well with other 1/12 scale figures.

I also started collecting some reference images for details I could nab and integrate, and to nail down the scaling of the scooter.

After I had something that worked, I drew up some concept art for both modes and started modeling. I was able to streamline the design a couple of steps further in the 3D model, and then it was all carving up shapes, fine tuning, etc. Probably the longest phase of modeling was after I had my model roughed out into shape, but needed to build the joints, firm up the edges, define all the contact surfaces, and apply subdivision surfaces. I found it useful to rig the model and set a couple of animation steps in Blender for the two modes so I could simply page back and forth between them.

I had to set the design on the back burner while I worked out the kinks with my 3D printer and built my last couple of projects. Then I made a test print to identify any trouble spots, and after a couple of tweaks to get the feel right, it was time to print and finish the real thing. Zephyr Slip is the first thing I've printed in "color", and thanks to some dyes I need to experiment with more, she won't be the last. That means a much more durable finish for parts that have to slide against one another or clip into place. I did add a gloss coat to some surfaces of the black elements, but it shouldn't show chipping much. (Unlike the kickstand, thanks to my terrible decision to paint its feet.)

Like my previous figures, Zephyr's eyes (and console) are just printed gloss paper under a coat of gloss varnish, and her headlights and taillights have some clear resin poured in over the paint and cured into place for lenses. Cutting plastic windows like the ones on my Vertigo GT for the lower headlights didn't have the same effect, so they got the same clear resin treatment. The decal designs themselves were made in Blender, because I've given up on Inkscape's interface, but I think they came out okay.

The joints are almost exclusively 3mm ABS rods, although her hip joints are Kotobukiya Hexa Gear joints, which gave me a sturdy pin and hinge in a compact package and without visible pegs. I'm looking into options to make the pegs show less while being easy to remove for the construction and painting process. Despite some care with the tolerances, I did have to widen some peg holes and mush some pegs during assembly to get her pose well and snap together tight into either mode. But everything does clip solidly into place, resulting in a really playable figure.

As my first fully transforming figure and also my largest, Zephyr Slip is definitely the biggest figure project I've tackled so far, and I'm extremely happy with the results. Posability is probably her weakest area, but she can pounce and emote, and with her solid handfeel and satisfyingly snappy transformation, I'm happy with the design.

Paleontologically, I've followed most of the proportions of the real animal, although her torso should be a little bit longer, and her tail half again as long. She should also have visible first fingers, and I'm playing into the paleoart meme of bare snouts on dromaeosaurs that shouldn't have them. The proportion of thigh to shin is exaggerated, and the tail should have some left-right sway even if it's inflexible in the vertical axis. But it pleases me that she is both a roughly accurately scaled Austroraptor, and also a fairly realistically scaled scooter (if a bit chunky).

As always, due credit to @aprilpowered and Workbenchmaniac for support and feedback along the way, as well as Nemocyte (Tumblr | Twitter), whose feedback helped me to work out (among other things) the articulation needs of a theropod figure, something I'd never had to think about before.

#3d printing #3d modeling #action figures #transformers #robot girl #dinosaurs #austroraptor #dromaeosaur #1:12 scale #motor scooter

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redr0sewrites · 2 months

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As you're writing for DC now, can we get pegging headcannons for Harley Quinn, Poison Ivy & Wonder Woman x male! reader?

🥀A/n: UHM YES HELLO??)? i genuinely cooked so hard w this one ngl.

🥀Character(s): Harley Quinn x reader, Poison Ivy x reader, Wonder Woman x reader

🥀Cw: smut, pegging, sub!male!reader, slight feminization in HQ's part, impact play, bondage, cock/strap used interchangeably, strap sucking, oral fixation mention, dirty talk

🥀minors dni

Harley Quinn:

Harley would be soo mean about it, she's definitely mocking you and giggling the whole time while forcing you to take her strap. she takes prep very seriously, and would absolutely make you wear a butt plug beforehand to make sure you're nice and prepped for her

speaking of her strap, it is very her. its a bright red with glitter, and is definitely at least 8 inches. it has a very prominent tip with the slightest arch that can reach all the sweet spots inside you. you cannot tell me she wouldn't buy a vibrating strap for shits and giggles, she loves to torture you (lovingly ofc)

definitely buys you one of those monster dildos/straps as a gag gift, im talking a full 12 inches with tentacles and ridges. it starts off as a joke, but it isn't long before curiosity gets the best of both of you and she's bending you over the mattress, splitting you in two with her "monster cock" as she calls it

Harley has a brutal pace when pegging you, she's fast and rough and oh so mean. definitely hits it from the back, she looves doggy style and when you get all weak and shaky under her touch? it only makes her even meaner

likes slapping your ass and pushing you around while she pegs you. is infatuated by the sight of her cock sliding in and out of your hole, and loves to watch your ass cheeks jiggle with each thrust. if you're down for it, Harley would definitely buy you a pretty collar she can tug and play with while she fucks you senseless. she loves to mark whats hers, and makes sure to leave a heft amount of bite marks and hickeys across your necks and shoulders.

buys you lingerie just to peg you in it. lacy thigh garters with pretty panties in the color scheme of her clown costume, with a frilly bralette to match. Harley doesn't care how embarrassed you get, she's fucking you silly while switching between calling you her pretty princess or her dirty slut

loves groping your pecs and calling them tits while she fucks you, and when you whimper or complain she coos about how you're such a whiny whore. claims you "cry like a girl", and mocks you for being all needy and depraved

"aw, takin' me up the ass so well, dolly. betcha never played with your prostate like this before, huh toots? who knew all it took was f'me to fuck ya, and then you'd behave like the little bitch you are.."

very rarely touches your cock while pegging you, she's confident you can get off from the prostate stimulation alone. however, she's definitely down for double tapping and would love to fuck you from both ends with her strap and a sounding rod one day

while she can be very rough and degrading, i do think Harley finds importance in aftercare and is very sweet with you once it's all over. she'll tease you a bit, but will get you a warm towel to wipe you off and bring you some food and water. she has a very high libido though, so showering after sex with her often leads to another round... not that you'd mind

"you really are a little slut, aren't cha?" sharp, red nails leave a crescent shaped mark on your hips while Harley's free hand presses down on your lower back, forcing you into a deeper arch as she fucks you senseless. your drooling and moaning into the pillows while your thighs shake from the brutal pace she's set. the lacy thong she had bought you for the occasion had been torn off, but the thigh high socks, garters, and glittery, sheer bra remained untouched- for now.

your cock twitches, pressed between your tummy and the mattress, and you can't help but hump slightly, desperate for friction. you can't tell if you're grinding downwards against the bed for relief for your hard cock, or if you're grinding backwards for more friction against your abused hole. Harley leans onto you a little more, forcing your ass higher into the air so her strap can reach even deeper inside your gummy walls.

Harley watches, mesmerized, as her thick cock slides in and out of your leaking hole, ramming against that sweet spot inside you with every thrust. she notices your desperation, watching closely as you grind like a bitch in heat. the hand on your hip suddenly moves to grasp your leaking cock, and she snickers when you whimper. your dick twitches in her palm, desperate for any form of stimulation.

"aw, are you gonna cum all over yourself? jus' from me fucking ya silly?" she sneers as you grind your cock against her hand, mind lost in pleasure. "what a pretty, dumb whore you are," Harley coos, her pace unrelenting as you begin to sob. "go on doll, you can cum. but don't think 'm done with ya just yet~"

Poison Ivy/Pamela Isley:

Pamela probably wouldn't know much about pegging to begin with but is definitely willing to try it. she's a very confident and self assured dom, so as long as you're comfortable she's down to try pretty much anything

her strap is very pretty, a matte black or green with a few prominent veins. i think her strap would be about 7-8 inches but no more than that, but it would have a decent girth to it as well. big enough to where you feel the stretch, but not so much that it hurts (unlike Harley who wants you to suffer)

fingers you for prep, loves stretching you out and making you cum before she even puts her strap in. her fingers are long, slender, and very pretty, perfect for hitting that sweet spot inside you

i think Pamela would prefer to have you in her lap when she pegs you, with your hands tied behind your back with her vines. she's not as mean as much as she's condescending, switching between praising and degrading you so much it makes your mind all fuzzy

loves to tie you down in general. Pamela very rarely lets you touch her while she's pegging you, instead keeping you bound (and sometimes gagged) and completely at her mercy

COCKWARMING!!!! teases you mercilessly while forcing you to sit on her lap, staying immobile for what feels like hours while she toys with your nipples or kneads the flesh of your thighs. she'll occasionally stroke your cock with her nails, dragging upwards from the base to your twitching tip, only to stop when you do so much as gasp or whine. absolutely makes you suckle on her tits, the sight of you looking up at her with big, innocent doe eyes with one of her breasts in your mouth makes her absolutely feral

loveeesss when you struggle to ride her, grinding down on her strap and blushing like a mess. Pamela forces you to make eye contact with her as she finds it very intimate, and will get irritated if you look away or cover your eyes. she'll also get annoyed if you try to hide your moans or stifle any of your noises

if youre being bratty, she will sometimes offer to let you "take control" and fuck yourself, claiming that "since you're a big boy and can handle yourself, you can pleasure yourself as well". you both know that she's gonna take over for you eventually, but she just enjoys watching you squirm and struggle

puts your cock in a chastity cage while she pegs you so you can't even cum, but will be praising you for taking her so well the entire time. i think she'd find twisted pleasure in watching you cry or beg, so she's definitely edging you until your pleading with her to cum

makes you call her ma'am or mistress, and very occasionally will refer to herself as mommy

Pamela is a little bit into breathe play/choking imo. not enough to make you pass out or hurt you too badly, but definitely to the point where her hand is clamped tight around your throat as she fucks you. she'll keep her hand tight on your throat to help maneuver you as well, especially when she's trying to switch positions or force you to make eye contact

she hates when you get shy or awkward. shes splitting you open on her cock and you're looking away from her? how rude! she's pegging you hard until you apologize, murmuring in your ear and treating you almost like a child. she whispers to you about how she's seen you in even more compromising positions, so don't look away, or else she'll be forced to punish you.

definitely has a high stamina, and probably rides you for a little after pegging you just to bring you both to one more release. Pamela is very cleanly in my opinion, so she definitely prefers to shower or bathe after sex. she's very sweet w aftercare, and will massage you if you're sore.

the familiar feeling of vines wrapping around your wrists makes you shudder, nuzzling deeper into the crook of her neck. Pamela's flowery scent overwhelms your senses as her cock nudges against your prostate, yet she refuses to move. your cock, erect and needy, slaps against your tummy as you squirm.

"i need you to look at me, darling," she coo's, slender hands finding purchase on your hips. "mhm," you murmur, forcing yourself to meet her gaze. "oh? do you want me to fuck you or not?" you realize your mistake, and quickly correct yourself.

"yes, ma'am. m'sorry f'not addressing you," you murmur, and Pamela smirks. "oh, good boy. so polite~" she murmurs, rocking her hips up against yours, making you whine. "good boys deserve rewards, don't you think?"

Wonder Woman/Diana Prince:

listen, i feel like Diana is more experienced than she lets on. theres no way she's never pegged anyone before- this is Wonder Woman we're talking about.

Diana cares mostly about your comfort and pleasure, she's definitely a pleasure dom and wants to make sure you're satisfied. if you're into it, she's down to try it.

her strap is long, i'd say about 9 or maybe even more inches with a prominent tip and a few ridges. i don't think its too thick, but there's definitely enough girth where theres a bit of a stretch, especially at the base. i also think its a plain matte black, she isn't one for extravagant colors and such

very gentle, and cares a lot about prep. definitely fingers you beforehand to stretch you out, and makes sure to use a comfortable amount of lube. i also think she's the type to have you suck her off, even though she doesn't feel anything its SO attractive to see you on your knees and slobbering all over her strap. def fucks your face a little, claiming she needs to make sure her strap is all slick for entry- but really she just loves feeding into your oral fixation

Diana prefers simple missionary position when pegging you, there's something very intimate about watching your expressions and holding intense eye contact. she isn't opposed to the mating press either, and she loves how the angle allows her to fuck you deeper. she often isn't aware of her own strength and, much to your delight, tends to bully her cock deeper inside you by force of sheer will. you are undeniably going to be sore once she's done

wraps her arm beneath you to pull you up against her chest, supporting bot of your weights with just one arm so you can suck on her tits. definitely shoved her boobs into your face, and whether or not that's intentional or not it up to you

speaking of, Diana is literally soooo strong its uncanny. while she prefers the intimacy of the bed, she can definitely peg you up against the wall and hold you up without breaking a sweat. she loves how each thrust causes your hips to slam against the wall, and will force you to wrap your legs around her waist so she can reach even deeper inside you

she's very adamant about praising you, and making sure you know just how much she loves you. Diana definitely has pegged you in front of a floor to ceiling mirror, forcing you to watch her simultaneously peg you and jack you off while praising you the entire time.

"you are taking me so well, beloved, you're so strong and gorgeous... absolutely divine.."

maybe im crazy but. Diana with a breeding kink. HEAR ME OUTTTT. she knows its biologically impossible for her to impregnate you or even cum inside you, but that doesn't stop her from buying one of those straps that allows her to "cum" to satisfy those urges. and satisfy it does. the next thing you know she's fuckinv you absolutely silly, praising you for taking her so well while turning you into her own personal cumdump. its not so bad when she's cooing to you how gorgeous you look like this, and how much she wants to fill you up...

out of the three, Diana is by far the best at aftercare. she'll get you food and water before wiping you down and running you a bath, and then switching the sheets and blankets while you get in the tub before joining you. she gives wonderful massages, and praises you so much you nearly cry.

"your taking me so well, darling," Diana murmurs, pressing a kiss to your brow. you whine, your cock slapping against your tummy as she gazes down st you intently. her thrusts begin to pick up speed and your back arches, desperate to feel her even deeper. Diana slides one hand beneath your thigh, hooking it over her shoulder before repeating the motion with your other leg, until she has you folded in half and is practically splitting you in half on her strap.

the new position allows her to practically rearrange your guts as she drills into you, your gummy walls clamping down around her cock as she whispers sweet nothings into your ear. "you're such a good boy, so pretty f'me," she sighs against your skin. she very rarely slurs her words, but she's caught up in watching you unwind with each thrust. the pure ecstasy on your face is reflected in your wanton moans, and she continues to indulge you. you feel your release approaching as your cock twitches, desperate for attention.

Diana notices immediately, wrapping a hand around your base and pumping your length. "go on, darling, let go for me~" she coos, and you do, spilling onto yourself and making a mess. Diana gently fucks you through your orgasm, watching intently as you come down from your high. "you did so well dearest, i'm so proud.."

ok why did i cook with this hello⁉️ i genuinely love this so much like aaaa i need all of them in my bed asap

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