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bills5lut · 1 month ago

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festival

masterlist prompt list

warnings: dom!topbillie, sub!bottomreader, oral, fingering, some exhibitionism sorta.

synopsis: billie pulls you into a hidden corner right after her set at oshega, her adrenaline and desire crashing over you both in a fierce, breathless rush.

note: as requested by @goldwing-xx thanks pretty

The roar of the crowd is still echoing as the stage lights dim and the last chords of the final song reverberate through the humid night. You’re up on the raised vip platform tucked behind the stage, one of those makeshift scaffold areas they throw together at festivals, mostly for family and crew. It gives a wide, clear view of the main stage and the chaos below: lights flashing, thousands of fans still screaming even as the music dies.

You’re leaning against the rail, heart still thudding, your pulse matching the bass that was just shaking the ground. Sweat clings to your skin, not from dancing, not from the crush of bodies in the crowd, but from the adrenaline in the air. The kind of energy you can feel in your teeth.

Billie’s just come off stage. You spot her as she steps down the ramp from the main platform, her black oversized shirt clinging to her with sweat, her jet-black hair frizzed at the ends and damp around her temples, red roots glowing under the low amber floodlights. Her fringe clings to her forehead. She’s panting a little, her chest rising and falling with sharp little exhales. A stagehand tries to pass her a towel, but she ignores it, her eyes already sweeping upward. Finding you.

There’s a crowd waiting for her, Claudia, Maggie, her tour manager, a couple of crew guys, Patrick’s perched nearby too, clutching a water bottle, all of them buzzing, proud, trying to get a word in. Maggie calls her name, Claudia’s got her arms already reaching out for a hug.

But Billie doesn’t even blink at them. She zeroes in on you.

Her shoes thud up the narrow metal stairs to the vip riser, taking them two at a time, still slick with stage sweat. There’s a wild, open grin on her face, that post-performance high, pure and manic. She reaches you, grabs your forearm with her sticky, trembling fingers, and pulls you in close.

You blink, trying to hide a smile. “Bills,” you murmur, glancing pointedly at the others still hovering nearby, “People are trying to talk to you.”

She just shakes her head, breathless. “Fuck ‘em,” she grins, her voice rasped and blown-out from the set. “Come with me.”

You barely get the words, “Wait, where are we?” out before she’s tugging you away from the railing, your steps stumbling to match her pace. She’s hot with adrenaline, dragging you like you’re an extension of her, and honestly, you don’t want to resist. Not really. She bypasses the trailer row completely. Instead, she yanks you around the back of the scaffolding, down into a shadowed wedge of space just behind the stage structure, not fully hidden, but just out of sight enough. A stack of gear cases and lighting rigs block the view from one side, and the shadow of the stage looms overhead. There’s a thick, industrial beam rising vertically beside you, cool and rigid to the touch, the kind of thing you could brace yourself against.

The thud of music from the next stage filters through in the distance, but here, it’s muffled. It’s just you and her and the leftover buzz of twenty thousand people screaming her name. Billie spins you, pressing your back against the pole. Her fingers slide behind your neck, and she kisses you like she’s been waiting the entire set to do it. Rough. Deep. Messy. The kind of kiss that leaves you gasping.

Your hands find her face, thumbs brushing just beneath her eyes as you break the kiss with a soft laugh, lips still parted. “Billie,” you breathe, trying to level her, “calm down. You’ve just done a full set. You’re gonna crash any second now.”

She shakes her head fast, eyes glittering in the low light. “No way. No fucking way. I’m high as hell right now. On you. On that fucking crowd.” Her voice cracks, and she’s smiling too hard to speak for a second.

You huff a quiet laugh through your nose, but before you can say anything else, her mouth is on yours again, even more desperate this time, open and demanding. Her hands slip down your sides, one settling just beneath the hem of your skirt, fingers teasing the skin of your upper thigh. You kiss her back with a groan, pressing closer. You think this is just the adrenaline, just making out, just heat and contact and relief. Your fingers grip her waist, her damp shirt bunching in your fists.

You part your lips to breathe and her fingers plunge into your pussy, just like that.

Your gasp is swallowed into her mouth, knees jerking slightly. You pull back a fraction, eyes wide. “Wait” you try to say, your voice breaking on the word, but it’s already useless. Her hand is already fucking into you with practiced ease, and your moan cuts you off halfway through the thought.

“Fuck.. oh fuck Billie”

She doesn’t stop. Doesn’t say anything. Just keeps moving her fingers in hard, perfect strokes, her eyes locked on your face like she’s watching a performance of her own. One hand wedges between your thighs, the other comes up to grip the back of your thigh, holding you up as your knees start to shake.

Your head falls back against the cool metal pole behind you with a soft thud. The thrill of being out here, not hidden, not safe, shoots through you like a second pulse. You cast a glance sideways, but it’s too dark, too cluttered for anyone to notice. Still, the risk makes it worse. Makes it better.

Billie drops to her knees in front of you without warning, her mouth hot and wet on your inner thigh. Her fingers never stop moving, curling up, pushing deeper, but now her tongue finds your clit, and everything inside you jumps.

You’re gasping now, whining, one hand on her head, the other bracing hard against the beam. She’s everywhere, licking, sucking, her mouth impossibly hot. The stubble of her upper lip grazes you, just barely, and it makes you twitch, makes you curse.

“Oh my god,” you hiss. “Billie…please”

She groans low into your pussy, and the vibration makes your hips buck. She’s sloppy and thorough, like she needs this, needs to taste you, to make you fall apart. Her hair is messy between your thighs, and you tangle your fingers in it, tugging helplessly. Your legs are barely holding you. She grips one thigh harder, holding you up like she knows exactly how close you are to falling.

You feel it building, a low, deep pressure that’s burning from your spine down through your core, flooding every nerve ending.

“Baby,” you gasp, voice barely holding, “I’m gonna. Billie fuck I’m, please oh fuck.”

Billie presses her mouth harder against your clit, lips locked tight, tongue flicking fast. Then she mumbles against you, her voice thick, “Cum for me, angel.”

The words vibrate into you and it tips you over.

You cum, dribbling down her chin, your body curling, shaking, your moan ragged and barely contained. Billie holds you through it, fingers still slow inside you, tongue easing the last waves out of you until you’re gasping, trembling, boneless. You sag against the pole, trying to catch your breath, hand gripping Billie’s shoulder to steady yourself. She rises slowly, face flushed, lips glossy, her eyes dark and wild.

You laugh once, breathless. “Jesus, Billie…”

She grins, licking the corner of her mouth before wiping her face with the hem of her shirt. She moves close, fixing a strand of your hair that’s stuck to your cheek, then tugging your shirt straight again. You help her do the same, pushing back her fringe, smoothing the edges of her shirt. Your hands are still shaking.

You kiss her once, just a soft press of lips.

When you both walk back around to the vip area, the noise is overwhelming, the crowd still dispersing, someone shouting something nearby, Odessa tossing her head back in laughter.

Claudia’s the first to reach Billie again. “Bills, that was insane,” she says, hugging her tight. “You killed that.”

Billie hugs her back, finally smiling at the others, but you’re tucked right into her side, your fingers looped discreetly into her belt loop. You don’t trust your legs yet. As Claudia chats away, talking about the crowd, the pyros, something someone said on stage, you glance at Billie. She’s listening, nodding along.

But her other hand is at her side, just barely visible. Her pinky is brushing her bottom lip. Then her tongue darts out, quickly, and you watch as she casually licks the edge of her finger.

You swear your knees almost give out again. She meets your gaze. And smirks.

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cheollollipop · 1 month ago

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i’m spider-man, stop screaming. | mark lee.

genre: fluff.

wc: 1.7k

🕸️ author’s note!

i really enjoy writing these and i know i have like two series i need to be working on but these have been making me so happy 😭 i hope you all are enjoying them as much as i am! happy reading!

Mark calls an emergency hangout on a Sunday.

That's already suspicious.

Sunday is sacred. Jaemin's face mask day, Haechan's day of sleeping in until 4 p.m., and Jeno's scheduled "do nothing but wear sweats and watch cat videos" rotation. For all three of them to be vertical and in Mark's apartment before noon? That's either love or fear.

Possibly both.

So when they walk in and see Mark pacing like he's waiting for a jury verdict, the mood shifts.

"Did someone die?" Jaemin asks, setting his boba down like it's a glass of aged whiskey.

"No one's dead," Mark says, still pacing.

"Are you dying?" Jeno squints, eyes full of genuine concern.

"No!"

"You better not be," Haechan mutters, flopping onto the couch like a Victorian widow. "If you make me cry before I finish this milk tea, I'm haunting your hoodie collection."

Mark stops in front of the window, stares dramatically into the middle distance like he's in a tragic drama. "I just—need to tell you something."

All three of them go dead quiet.

Too quiet.

Jaemin tilts his head. "Wait... are you and YN having a baby?"

"WHAT—NO!" Mark yells, turning an aggressive shade of red. "OH MY GOD. NO."

Then he turns to me, eyes wide. "Wait... you're not pregnant, right?"

"Mark. We've never even had se—"

"OKAY!" Jeno exclaims, face flushed. "So it's not a baby. Got it. Great. Moving on. Please."

"Are you moving?" Jaemin offers.

"Are you joining the military?" Jeno asks.

"Are you secretly British?" Haechan deadpans.

Jaemin gasps, eyes huge. "ARE YOU BALD UNDER THAT HOODIE?!"

"Guys!" Mark groans, dragging a hand down his face.

Then he stops. Takes a breath. A real one. Like he's about to jump off a cliff.

And says it.

"I'm Spider-Man."

Silence.

Jaemin furrows his brows. "Like... a fan?"

Mark deadpans, "No."

"You like Spider-Man?" Jeno asks slowly, cautious.

"No."

"You had a dream you were Spider-Man?" Haechan tries.

"No."

"You are Spider-Man emotionally?" Jaemin suggests.

"WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN—no. I'm actually Spider-Man."

He pulls off his hoodie in one swift motion, revealing the unmistakable red-and-black suit underneath. It's scraped up. Real. Lived in. Battle worn.

Then he pulls his web-shooter out of the duffel bag and holds it like it's proof of life.

Silence.

Longer silence.

"You cosplaying?" Jaemin tries again. "Is this a Comic-Con thing? I love the commitment."

Mark's eye twitches.

"It's me," he says. "I'm the one on the news. The scaffolding incident? The giant rhino guy downtown? The time someone live-tweeted me chasing a car thief on a CitiBike? That was me."

"I thought that was CGI," Jeno whispers.

"It was me!"

"You're not jacked enough to be Spider-Man," Haechan says bluntly. "Like respectfully. Your arms are straight noodles, my guy."

"I carry grown men across the city!"

"But like... do you bench though?"

Mark's eye does a full-body twitch this time.

Jaemin stands up, arms crossed like he's in court. "Do the web thing. Prove it."

Mark lets out a suffering sigh. Raises his wrist.

THWIP.

A web launches across the room, smacks Jaemin's boba cup, and yanks it straight into Mark's hand with surgical precision.

Jaemin SCREAMS.

Jeno SCREAMS.

Haechan SCREAMS.

And I am laughing hysterically.

All three of them launch themselves behind the couch like it's a warzone.

"WHAT THE—"

"MY BOBA—"

"IS THIS A DREAM?!"

"AM I DEAD?!"

Mark just stands there, holding the cup, looking completely done with all of them.

"You done?" he asks.

Jeno peeks up from behind the couch cushion like a nervous meerkat. "That was a real web."

"Correct."

"You're really Spider-Man."

"Yup."

"And you stole my pearls," Jaemin says, betrayed. "That's, like, the best part!"

Mark groans. "That's your takeaway?!"

"This is so much," Haechan says, half-curled into fetal position. "I need a snack and a nap and maybe a cleanse."

After several deep breaths and one emergency pudding break, the chaos settles into stunned silence as they all sit in shock.

Mark explains.

How long he's been Spider-Man. How it started. Why he kept it a secret. How I found out the night he saved me in the alley, how he'd webbed a knife clean out of someone's hand and I didn't run.

"I almost lost it that night," he says quietly. "But YN saw me. And stayed."

"I would've fainted," Jaemin says, spooning pudding into his mouth.

"I almost did," I mutter.

"I was very emotionally taxed," Mark defends.

"I'm just saying," Haechan starts, eyes wide, "you being Spider-Man is like... finding out my rice cooker has a double life as a ninja."

Mark throws a pillow at his face.

Finally, Jeno sits up, serious for once.

"I get why you didn't tell us. I really do. But... you don't have to do this alone anymore."

"Yeah," Jaemin adds. "We're your guys. Your ride or dies. Your emotional support gremlins."

"I want matching suits," Haechan announces. "Sidekick chic. I want capes."

"Spider-Man doesn't wear a cape," Mark mutters.

"Well I will," Haechan says. "My superhero name is The Napper."

"Call me Bubble Boba," Jaemin says solemnly, still mourning his drink.

"I just want a utility belt with snacks," Jeno shrugs. "Something practical. Like trail mix. And revenge."

Mark buries his face in his hands. "This was a mistake."

"We're gonna be SO annoying about this," Jaemin beams.

"Yeah. I figured," Mark sighs.

But when Jeno holds out his fist, Mark bumps it without hesitation.

Then Haechan.

Then Jaemin, who whispers, "Welcome to the web, baby," like it's some secret club.

And Mark just smiles.

Mark barely has a second to enjoy the moment of quiet.

Because the next thing he knows, Haechan is holding the web-shooter like it's the freaking crown jewels. "Okay. Okayokayokayokay. Let's just test it. Just a little web. One baby thwip."

"No," Mark says.

Haechan's already aiming at the lamp. "What's the worst that could happen?"

"THE LAMP, HAECHAN—"

THWIP.

The lamp goes down like a wounded soldier.

Everyone screams again, including me.

Except Mark, who just facepalms.

"Do you want me to web you to the ceiling?!" he hisses.

"Lowkey?" Haechan says, still gripping the web-shooter. "Yes?"

Mark groans and retrieves it from him. "None of you are responsible enough to even look at this thing."

"You say that like I didn't just prove I'd make a fantastic sidekick," Haechan replies, smug.

"You almost gave the lamp a concussion!"

Jaemin is already standing on the coffee table with both hands in the air. "I VOLUNTEER AS FIRST FLIGHT."

"I'm not swinging you," Mark says.

"Why not?"

"You weigh more than my moral compass."

"RUDE!"

"I can do a pull-up!" Jaemin insists. "I'm agile. I do Pilates. I'm emotionally limber."

"Still no."

Jaemin gasps like Mark just insulted his skincare routine. "Is this because we called your biceps soft?"

"Partially."

Suddenly Jeno's next to him with puppy eyes and his arms already outstretched. "What if I go second?"

"There is no first!"

"But you love me."

"That's emotional manipulation."

"I'm your favorite."

"You ate half a stick of butter once because you thought it was cheesecake."

"ONE TIME, MARK. LET ME FLY."

"I'm not a theme park ride!"

Too late.

Jaemin is already wrapping a throw blanket around his shoulders like a cape. "Just once around the room. Let me pretend I'm in a drama action sequence. I've got the inner monologue ready."

"Absolutely not—"

"I'm the misunderstood heir to the chaebol fortune who moonlights as a vigilante web artist and falls in love with the bakery girl next door—"

"I said no—"

"SWING ME, YOU COWARD."

Mark looks like he's aged twenty years.

I can't stop laughing.

Haechan shoves a helmet on his head that came from God knows where. "I'm ready for battle," he says solemnly.

"That's a bicycle helmet," Mark points out.

"I'M READY FOR BATTLE."

Mark groans into his hoodie again. "Why do I have friends."

"Because we're adorable," Jeno says, already tying Jaemin's shoes together "for aerodynamic purposes."

"You're sabotaging his ankles," I say.

"Science!" Jeno declares.

Eventually, Mark gives in with the most dramatic sigh known to mankind.

"Fine. ONE SWING."

The room goes feral.

Haechan grabs a camcorder from the kitchen drawer.

"You have a camcorder?" I ask.

"For occasions, YN. This is historic."

Jaemin is bouncing like he's about to launch into orbit.

Mark shoots a web toward the ceiling. Wraps an arm tightly around Jaemin's waist. "You scream, I drop you."

“I scream for joy, KING."

They swing.

They actually swing.

Jaemin shrieks, not joyfully.

"IT'S SO FAST—MY LASHES ARE INVERTING—"

They land with a crash onto the couch, limbs tangled and both of them wheezing.

Jaemin immediately sits up. "I HAVE NEVER FELT MORE ALIVE."

Jeno is already in position. "Me next. I'm ready."

"You're wearing oven mitts."

"For grip."

"I hate this," Mark mumbles, but he's already webbing up again.

They each get a turn.

Haechan insists on doing a mid-air spin and nearly knees Mark in the face.

Jeno attempts a superhero landing and sprains nothing but his dignity.

When it's my turn, Mark holds me tighter than he did any of the others and whispers, "Don't let go."

I grin. "I trust you."

He smiles.

And then Jaemin yells, "KISS WHILE SWINGING," and the moment shatters like Jeno's emotional stability.

Mark flushes red and accidentally slams us into the wall.

Later, they're all lying on the floor, groaning, limbs sprawled in every direction.

The apartment looks like a tornado met a Marvel movie and then lost a fight with four idiots and a web-shooter.

Mark sits against the wall, hair a mess, hoodie half-on, eyes tired but soft.

"This is the worst thing I've ever done," he mutters.

"I've never been happier," Jaemin says from upside-down on the armrest.

"Do you regret telling them?" I ask, nudging Mark gently.

He glances at all of them. Jaemin humming the Spider-Man theme, Haechan trying to web his own face, Jeno using the oven mitts to clap like a seal and finally looks at me.

And smiles.

"No," he says. "This was inevitable."

Jaemin raises a juice pouch in the air. "To the Web Gang!"

"We're not calling it that," Mark groans.

But he clinks his pouch anyway.

「 🕷️masterlist🕷️ 」

⤷ network tags: @k-films @neocity-net

#k films #neocity-net #mark lee #mark lee oneshot #spidermark #spider man au #nct mark #lee jeno #lee haechan #na jaemin

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detaia · 3 months ago

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Gavv might has such good fight choreography. Just finished ep 8 and the way Valen and Gavv coordinated?? Valen falling but Gavv using his back to catch him and we get a slow-mo of Valen upside down vertically back-to-back with Gavv as they both dual wield pistols against a swarm of fish trying to kill them??

Or Valen's first transformation where he and the Granute was on top of some scaffolding, so Valen shoots the scaffolding frame beneath him, the scaffolding becomes a slope and the Granute falls and rolls down towards Valen, who slams his gun into the Granute's gut and uppercuts them into the air while repreatedly firing into their stomach?? and then Valen points his gun at the sky and fires his Chocodon finisher into the air and the Granute falls, covered in chocolate, and we watch them EXPLODE behind Valen as he turns and limps away.

Or the way the gummies in Gavv's transformation are used to block attacks, or shred an enemy Granute, or even as a gag where Shouma is trying to hide all the gummies so Valen doesn't notice his transformation.

Or when Gavv was fighting Agents and they fired at him mid-transformation and Shouma dodges but the bullet grazes their cheek and leaves a red line of blood? OH THAT REMINDS ME in that same episode Gavv starts cranking his belt but an Agent grabs his hand so he can't finish charging his attack? So Gavv does a backflip that completes the final crank and readies his finisher??

Fuck its so good. Such a pleasure to watch. Those are standout moments but even the basic exchanges are so good. The choreo of course but also the editing the use of environment the different camera angles.....

#kamen rider gavv

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tianjinwellmadescaffold · 10 months ago

Video

youtube

Shoring Frame Scaffolding Manufacturing - OD60mm Hi Load Capacity Design...

#youtube #This is a type of shoring frame scaffolding with OD60mmx4.0mm Verticals. It is designed for high-load shoring purposes for European countrie

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winntusformworksystem · 1 month ago

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In the fast-paced world of construction, every contractor is looking for ways to increase efficiency while maintaining safety and quality. Centering Plates, often overlooked, have emerged as a key element in streamlining the process of concrete pouring, particularly for slab construction. These simple yet essential components can significantly reduce time and cost on-site while improving the precision of the construction process.

#Centering Plates #Scaffolding Verticals #Steel Shuttering Plate

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iamthekaijuking · 2 years ago

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suaropods on earth are the absolute upper limit for land vertebrates, but is it because they have four legs? cause i was working on a scifi spec evo idea where the endoskeletal vertebrate-analogs have eight legs and it got me wondering if it means their sauropod equivalents can be even bigger in a similar earth like gravity

If it was just about leg numbers then land mammals wouldn’t be smaller than the biggest dinosaurs

In reality you need specific evolutionary pressures, circumstances, and unique and efficient anatomy to get big.

For sauropods it was entirely due to their internal anatomy. Sauropods are saurischian dinosaurs, which have hollow bones with internal scaffolding that likely made them stronger than if they were solid, as well as a very extensive respiratory system that included numerous air sacks, many of which ran through their bones. This ultimately allowed saurischian dinosaurs to massively cut back on volume and allow them to cool off easier and have more efficient respiration. There’s things we still don’t know about sauropod anatomy though such as how their circulatory systems combated their sheer verticality. Dinosaurs also have unidirectional respiratory systems, which is more efficient than mammalian two way airflow.

For modern baleen whales it has more to do with the aftermath of the last ice age and how it impacted the location of their food (keep in mind this explanation of the evolution of baleen whale size is based on my current understanding and might not be correct). Baleen whales actually used to be much smaller, around bus size. But during and after the last ice age the ocean currents changed and krill populations became concentrated around the poles. Because of this, baleen whales needed a way to eat as much as possible in one sitting and travel long distances efficiently. The easy solution was to get big, which became easier as their predators the macroraptorial sperm whales and Otodus megalodon gradually went extinct. A thing to note however, is that because they need more resources due to their size, the number of baleen whale species is lower than it was several million years ago. Also also, blue whales are getting bigger.

On earth, 200 tons is more or less the maximum size for animals, as the biggest whales, ichthyosaurs, and sauropods got around that size.

There’s more things to note though:

No, higher oxygen levels don’t make things bigger. Not even bugs. Modern arthropods are actually on average bigger than their Carboniferous counterparts, and the oxygen levels were way higher back then. And griffinflies, very active flying insects, lasted all the way into the Permian, when oxygen levels were lower than in modern day.

It’s important to consider what the bones of animals are made of as well as their structure. Different internal structures can handle stress better, and different materials can handle pressure differently.

Eight legs might be too many, as having more legs, while very stable, can be more energy costly. Two legs might not be able to support as much weight as four, but it is more efficient.

A very big thing animals have to fight with when it comes to size is something called the square cube law. Basically as something gets bigger its volume (insides) increase way faster than its outsides (surface area). If you had a 1 centimeter cube and doubled its size, the surface area would quadruple but the insides would increase eight times. But there are ways of combating this such as decreasing volume with things like air sacks or increasing surface area by being very wrinkly (that’s how human brains fit so many neurons!). And because things with a metabolism generate heat, big animals have to combat overheating because they have a lot of insides. That’s why elephants have such big vascularized ears and why their skin acts like a sponge to soak up water.

Also I have no idea how perucetus got so big, that glorious fatass

#ask #questions #anon #anonymous #biology #paleontology #palaeoblr #speculative evolution #speculative biology #speculative anatomy #speculative zoology

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