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#that’s all I’ve got for now! but I’m bound to have some more!!
mouthfullofmunson · 7 months
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can we get more of rockstar!eddie being babied by his wife
ABSOLUTELY :D
Y/n LOVES being a rockstars wife
It’s what she was meant to do, she loves being on the road with Eddie all the time, watching his preform, supporting him while he is living his dream
But he gets hurt a lot on tour
Like a lot
That’s mainly because he doesn’t know how to act when he sees how large a venue is
Or when they sold out a stadium and he goes running up and down the bleachers and then he trips and gashes his eyebrow open
And he’s really embarrassed about it but thank god his wife was the only person to witness it
So she plots down next to him, wiping his bloody gash clean and making him drink cold water. “Fine you can say ‘I told you so’.” He says with a frown
“Yeah, if you keep doing this shit you’re going to end up dead Eddie.”
And even though he knows she’s being a touch dramatic it makes him dramatic and he just settles his head on her shoulder and lets him wrap her arms around him, cradling him like he’s a big toddler. She rubs his back, kissing the top of you head.
“You know you’re probably going to need stitches. And maybe a scan if you hit your head like that again, Jesus.”
And he whines and whines about it even though he’s had stitches plenty of times
And she holds his hand the whole the at the ER <3
He gets a vocal cord injury because he’s been touring for almost a year straight and has a show about every other night
So he’s on complete vocal rest
So his wife has to make him tea 24/7, making sure he is steaming to help out, taking calls for him
Even though his vocal cords are what is hurt he acts like he’s sick with the worst illness ever
And he demands that she has to come shower with him because he’s too sick to do everything himself
And she feels bad for him (especially since he has to write on a chalk board) so she agrees to it, shampooing his hair for him and cooing to him “I know your throat hurts baby. I’m so sorry you had to reschedule your shows :( but just think you it, you’ll be better than ever before in no time. It’ll be like it never happened”
And at his shows when he runs off real quick for a bathroom break or he has to trade guitars because he broke a string or something she wraps her arms around him and plants about a hundred kisses to his lips before he has to get back to it
And he always lingers closer to the side of the stage she is standing off by because no one cheers him on louder than she does 🥹
:)
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yandere-writer-momo · 7 months
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Author’s note: I am stuck in a slump so I’m going to write a guilty pleasure of mine… the body swap trope except this time, with a twist. And of course with the one that got away trope. I adore it so very much like black cherry ice-cream.
Yandere Head Canons:
The Husband Swap
Yandere Shapeshifter x Married Fem Elf Reader x Neglectful Drow Husband
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TW: yandere content!! Mentions of smut, dubcon, tentacles, monster fucking, size kink, manipulation, voyeurism, oral, and unhealthy relationship.
Art from Veil Manga
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You had been married to your husband, Nikolai Sokolov, for many years. An arranged marriage set up amongst your people as a peace treaty… you, a high elf, wed to a drow, dark elf. And Nikolai was often cold to you… despite how often you attempted to bond with him.
Nikolai refused to eat any of the food you made and he constantly brushed aside your attempts to get to know him. He cared little for this arranged relationship and treated you as if you were some mere commoner, a fact that only made your heart sting.
Nikolai would occasionally share a bed with you, but it was often out of fulfilling his needs. He cared little for your pleasure and only cared to satiate his own.
One day, Nikolai bought you a servant just to get you to leave him alone (outside of sex). A shapeshifter.
A magic collar was bound tightly around their silver neck as a preventative to their ability to shift. They were now powerless and subservient. A trait that most shapeshifters didn’t have since they were quite sly by nature. You wondered what this creature had done to have been reduced to a servant…
Their name was Lev Snegur and they were close in age to you and Nikolai. The shapeshifter was somewhat masculine looking with sharp features and pitch black eyes. A genderless species that never uttered a sound, what wonderful company to have.
You often tried to engage in small talk with them, but they remained as silent as the depth of night. Not a peep left their lips to ever give you input. It unnerved you.
You were very sweet to them and even offered to share meals, but they only stared at you. Talking to Lev was like talking to a brick wall that nodded at times. Lev was an incredibly good listener.
Lev’s company did little to satiate the ache in your heart and the all consuming loneliness. You were so isolated in this empty home filled with bitterness. And you started to accept that you’d never find any warmth with him. Nor would you find solace in your silent servant’s company.
Occasionally you’d wake up covered in a slight sweat, a puddle of dampness below you. The room would always feel of sex, yet you hardly had any of that… but you were always a bit sore between your legs when you’d wake up on mornings like this. Had you been having wet dreams due to your consistent loneliness? Or was there something foul at play?
So it was a surprise when Nikolai bounced into your room like a puppy one morning. His arms wrapped around your side while he inhaled your scent. What on earth was he doing?
“Nikolai?” Nikolai placed a finger on your lips, a mischievous look in his crimson eyes.
“Shh, I have a surprise for you!” Nikolai gave you a bright grin that made you do a double take. You’ve never seen your grumpy husband smile in his entire life. This had to be a dream… you gave yourself a pinch and hissed at the pain you inflicted on your poor arm. Nope. Not a dream.
Nikolai lead you out of the room to where a grand meal was set before you consisting of all of your favorite delicacies. You had no idea your husband even knew you adored such food…
“Do you like it?” His face was hopeful as he took your hand in his. “I’ve come to a realization that you genuinely care for me… so I will treat you better.”
And from that day forth, Nikolai was more attentive than he ever had been. He insisted you should move into his room and he often cuddled with you… it was so odd. This entire situation was bizarre, almost as if this was another person and not your husband.
It was when Nikolai went down on you for the first time that your mind truly began to believe he was another man. When did he learn how to please you and why did he eat you out like a man starved? This wasn’t your husband… this was an imposter.
When ‘Nikolai’ made love to you, he felt bigger. You swore he was nearly two to three inches than he used to be, which made your stomach protrude like you had a baby bump. And his hands ardently grasped at every bit of your body as he could.
It wasn’t too uncommon for you to find your husband sniffing your hair like some sort of animal. You were so scared…
The longer you spent time with ‘Nikolai,’ the more paranoid you became. There were less and less drows around now and your servant was missing… you were starting to become afraid.
But you never were able to get much time to think about it too much since ‘Nikolai’ was always dutifully by your side. There was never any time to ask questions… until tonight. You decided to ask him… for you feared you’d fall off the deep end into insanity if you didn’t.
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“Where’s Lev?” You softly asked Nikolai whose fingers paused their dance over your scalp. His crimson eyes glanced over to your face.
“And why do you care so much about a shifter when your husband is here?” Nikolai asked in a bitter tone, but you could see a bit of excitement in his eye. And it made your heart pulse in your brain.
“Well, I miss Lev.” You softly whispered. It wasn’t a complete lie. You did miss your servant who always listened to you, but you preferred his silent company over the overbearing presence of your changed husband.
“Hmm… well, we can go see him if you’d like.” Nikolai rose up from the bed and wrapped a black robe over his bare chest. “He’s in the dungeon.”
You were a bit shocked by your husband’s words. “What do you mean? Lev never did anything wrong-“
“My wife is too kind for her own good.” Nikolai held your chin to pause you from rambling on even more. His eyes were filled with so much emotion, it froze you in place. “It’s what I love most about you.”
You gulped and averted your gaze, your cheeks felt hot.
Lev lead you down the hallway and down the winding stairs to the dungeon, his hand gently held yours. You felt dread creep up into your stomach the closer you went to the dingy dungeon. Your nerves felt as if they were on fire…
And the sight before you terrified you to your core, the angled corpse of Nikolai laid sprawled out on the brick flooring. His lifeless eyes turned toward the door and his mouth agape in a horrific scream forever frozen on his rotting face.
You tried to flee but your ‘Nikolai’ began to shift, slender hands now held you firmly in place while your captor’s face slowly morphed into the bewitching creature named Lev.
“It didn’t take much to overpower him. Your husband was too cocky to notice I figured out how to disarm the collar.” Lev’s voice made your blood run cold from how raspy it was. His voice low and monotonous despite the various emotions that hid beneath the surface of his eyes. “To whack him over the back of the head with a sword hilt and drag him down here. It was child’s play really.”
“Are you going to kill me too?” You whimpered when his grip tightened around your arms. His face filled with concern.
“Kill you? Nonsense, I’d never kill my wife!” Lev began to pepper your face with numerous kisses while his arms snaked around your waist. “I mean it when I say I love you, I love you more than that bastard ever could.”
You try to protest, but you feel something slimy wrap around your legs and give them a squeeze. Your eyes are wide in terror at the black tendrils that snaked around your plush thighs. What on earth?!
“And I can certainly fuck you better than he ever could… I can show you things no other monster could ever show you, so won’t you indulge me? I promise I’ll blow your mind.”
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yannawayne · 2 months
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i. what's up danger?
SYNOPSIS: "Alright, let's do this one last time. My name is Y/N Kyle. I was bitten by a radioactive spider, And I've been the one and only Spidey in Gotham. I’m pretty sure you know the rest." PAIRING: Older! Damian Wayne/Fem! Reader TAGS: Established relationship, Mild sexual jokes, Making out, Blood, Explosions, Mentions of Child Abuse, Good Aunt-Mom Selina Kyle AO3: yenwayne SERIES LINK: gotham's only spidey
 NEXT ->
༻⊰───⋅
“Uh, good morning?” you offered weakly, trying to give a casual shrug despite the mess around you. “Mom, this might sound insane. But, I think I might have accidentally discovered superpowers.”
Selina stared at you, blinking slowly as she processed the scene before her. Her lips twitched as if she were trying to hold back a laugh or perhaps some form of disbelief.
“Accidentally discovered superpowers?” she echoed. “I think you've been around your boyfriend and his family too much. Baby—”
Before she could finish, your hand instinctively reached out. With a flick of your wrist, a web shot from your fingers and latched onto the door behind her. In a heartbeat, the door was yanked from its hinges, splintering as it flew across the room and crashed into the wall with a resounding thud.
Selina’s eyes widened in shock as she turned to face the now doorless doorway. She blinked at the empty space where the door had once been.
“Well,” she said, “I guess that’s one way to explain things.”
༻⊰───⋅
Saturday, 9:02 PM - Catwoman’s Apartment, Gotham City.
SELINA'S DEFT FINGERS SLID over the fabric of the dress, adjusting and smoothing it until it drapes perfectly over your figure. The elegant emerald gown shimmered softly under the dim apartment lights, the material flowing luxuriously against your skin.
"You didn’t steal this, did you?" you murmur, adjusting the necklace that rests delicately around your neck. "I’d rather not end up in jail tonight."
"The dress? No, it’s one of my old ones," Selina scoffed, turning away and handing you a pair of black heels. "But if anyone asks about the necklace, just say it’s a family heirloom. Which, technically, it is."
You shot her a pointed look. She rolled her eyes with a smirk.
"Oh, hush. I haven’t stolen anything in... at least a month," she drawled.
"A month, wow! That’s a new record," you teased, slipping into the heels.
Selina laughed and shook her head. "Don’t get too comfortable. Just because I’m on a hiatus doesn’t mean I’ve gone straight."
"Well, let’s hope your hiatus lasts at least through tonight," you winced.
She smirked, giving you a once-over. "Trust me, darling, tonight is all about you."
You were about to respond when Selina suddenly snapped her fingers.
“Before I forget...” she said, reaching into one of her drawers. She pulled out a thigh strap and wrapped the leather around your leg, fastening it securely. 
Then, she slid one of her blades into the strap. You rolled your eyes but accepted the gesture with a resigned nod. It was Gotham, after all—being prepared was always a need.
“Damian’s got me covered tonight,” you say, trying to reassure her. “You don’t have to worry so much.”
Selina paused, her hands still on the thigh strap, and gave you a skeptical look. “Sweetheart, I worry about you all the time. It’s not that I don’t trust Damian—he’s solid. But Gotham? That’s a different story. Where those Bats go, trouble’s sure to follow.”
You chuckled, adjusting the strap to make sure it was secure. “We’ll manage, mom.”
Selina Kyle might not have been your biological mother, but she became your mother the moment you were placed in her arms years ago. In that instant, the blood that bound you was inconsequential compared to the unspoken promise she made to protect you.
To Selina, you were her child. Not because of any legal ties or shared genetics, but because she chose to be your mother every single day.
And to you, Selina was more than just an aunt. She was the lifeline who stepped in when everything else had crumbled around you.
Selina and Maggie, your biological mother, had both grown up in a fractured family. Their father was a vicious drunkard. Their mother, Maria, was a ghost in their lives—emotionally absent and detached. 
When Maria died, the world turned colder. The sisters were torn apart: Maggie was adopted by a warm, loving family, while Selina was abandoned to the unforgiving grip of Gotham’s orphanages. Those grim streets, steeped in shadows and danger, carved her into Catwoman.
But darkness has a way of creeping back into the light, no matter how hard you try to keep it at bay. Maggie, who had managed to build a life of stability and warmth, became a target for the shadows of Catwoman’s past. 
Black Mask.
Kidnapped, tortured, and left to die, Maggie was nothing but a ghost by the time the attack was done. Her husband was slain in the carnage, and the only remnant of their family was you— barely a toddler, too young to grasp the gravity of your loss but old enough to feel its weight.
With no other family to turn to, she took you in, binding her fate to yours and vowing to protect you from a world that had already taken so much from both of you.
Her life wasn’t easy. She was young, barely in her twenties, struggling to make ends meet in one of Gotham’s most unforgiving neighborhoods. The meager jobs she managed to scrape together were barely enough to cover the rent, let alone the needs of a growing child.
Selina's decision to take up the mantle of Catwoman was never about the thrill of the heist or the allure of jewels; it was about survival—yours and hers. Gotham demanded a price, and she chose to pay it herself, risking her life each time she donned the suit to give you a chance at something better.
You grew up with a keen sense of the world, your intelligence uncovering bits and pieces of her double life. The mysterious disappearances, the luxurious items that mysteriously appeared—each clue painted a picture that you slowly began to understand.
When the time came for the truth to be revealed, it wasn’t easy
Selina’s hand glided across her vanity, fingers brushing over the cool surface before settling on a sleek black clutch. With a flick of her wrist, she turned and handed it to you.
You accepted it with a gleam in your eye, stepping back as you held it close. A playful twirl sent the emerald fabric of your gown swirling around you, catching the light in a way that made it shimmer. 
“Well? What do you think?”
Selina’s stern look melted away like ice under a warming sun. Her gaze swept over your outfit, absorbing the delicate neckline, the tailored fit around your waist, and the gown’s fluid cascade to the floor. 
In this small, quiet moment, the weight of the world seemed to lift. For just a heartbeat, she allowed herself to pretend that the two of you were simply a normal mother and daughter, sharing a simple, beautiful moment together.
“You’ve always had a way of making everything around you look better,” she purred. “You’re going to knock the whole school off their feet. Damian’s going to need a crowbar to keep the other guys away.”
Selina reached out to adjust the straps on your dress, her touch precise and caring. Her fingers brushed a stray strand of hair from your face, the movement as gentle as a whisper.
“Just remember, darling,” she spoke slowly, “it never hurts to stay safe.”
Ruby-red manicured nails tapped your cheek as she straightened up, a knowing look in her eyes.
Pause. Your eyes widened as you caught the hint of her meaning. “You’re not saying I—”
“I was at that age,” she interrupted with a mock-serious tone. “I’m just saying you should be prepared. Especially with the way that boy looks at you like you’re the only person in the room. You’ve got him wrapped around your finger. Make sure he wraps something else too.”
A flush of embarrassment rose to your cheeks. You sputtered and fumbled with the clutch in your hand. “Mom! What the hell?! I think that’s enough advice for one night!”
BEEP!
Just as Selina was about to respond, a car horn blared from outside, slicing through the evening’s quiet. Both of you turned towards the window, where a Porsche 911 emerged from the darkness. It looked painfully out of place against the backdrop of your neighborhood—cracked sidewalks strewn with trash, graffiti-streaked walls, and the occasional flickering streetlamp battling the encroaching shadows.
“Looks like your chariot awaits,” Selina said, her hands sliding up your shoulders as she gently nudged you toward the door. “Have a great time, but keep your wits about you. Gotham’s never as calm as it seems.”
With one final hug, you stepped out of the apartment and descended the narrow, dimly lit staircase. As you reached the bottom, you emerged into the cool night air, where Damian stood by his car parked right under a street lamp.
He was impeccably dressed in a deep black suit that seemed to swallow the surrounding light, giving him an almost smoky allure. An emerald button-up shirt peeked from beneath the jacket, its rich hue a perfect match for the striking color of your dress. 
Damian’s smoldering gaze warmed as he saw you approaching, a small, approving smile curling at the corners of his lips. He lifted two fingers in a beckoning motion, and though you rolled your eyes, you stepped forward.
“Beloved,” he greeted, extending a hand to you. “You look stunning.”
“Hi, handsome,” you grinned, taking his hand and stepping closer to press a gentle kiss against his lips. Damian responded with a soft hum, his arm slipping around your shoulders as he tilted his head slightly. The kiss deepened just enough to make the moment linger, leaving a warmth that held between you. 
Just as you were about to lose yourself completely, Selina’s voice sliced through the night air. 
“You’re going to be late!”
Damian pulled away from you so abruptly that it looked as if he’d been yanked back by an invisible force. His face flushed a patchy red, a blend of embarrassment and irritation. He shot a sidelong glance at Selina, his eyes quickly shifting back to you.
Damian huffs, releasing a sharp exhale through his teeth. “Shall we go?”
The click of the car door echoed as Damian opened it for you, his lips twisting into a scowl. You settled into the plush passenger seat, the soft fabric of your gown rustling as Damian carefully lifted it to prevent any creases. 
While you adjusted yourself in the seat, you glanced back and waved at Selina, her silhouette framed against the windows. A snort escaped you as you noticed the deadpan look Damian shot in her direction.
Damian was always somewhat awkward around Selina. As Robin, his view of Catwoman was clear-cut—she was a criminal to be dealt with. And yet, he still held a deep respect for her as your mother.
Once he settled into the driver’s seat and started the engine, the car roared to life with a smooth, powerful purr. The sleek vehicle glided down the streets with impressive speed, Damian navigating through traffic with a confidence that bordered on recklessness. 
As he shifted gears, the radio flicked on, filling the car with a soft, pulsing beat.
This may be the night that my dreams might let me know All the stars are closer All the stars are closer All the stars are closer This may be the night that my dreams might let me know
Tilting your head back into the seat, your hair bunching around your shoulders, your thoughts drifted to the first time Damian took you for a drive. Both of you had been sixteen then, and his aggressive maneuvering had left you gripping the seat, your heart racing as if you were in a high-speed chase. Now, though, the thrill was familiar, adrenaline thrumming steadily in your blood.
The ride was brief but exhilarating, and soon the car pulled into the school’s parking lot. Sleek cars and limousines lined the lot, each more extravagant than the last. Students and their dates, dressed in their finest formal wear, mingled and laughed, making their way toward the entrance.
Stepping out of the car, the crisp night air greeted you like a refreshing embrace, carrying the delicate scent of fresh flowers and the faint strains of classical music wafting from the entrance. The soft glow of string lights and lanterns illuminated the path ahead, casting a warm, golden hue over the scene. Damian drew you close, his arm slipping around your waist as you walked together.
The ballroom was stunningly elegant. 
Crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, their shimmering prisms scattering colorful reflections across the polished marble floor. Tables draped in white linens, adorned with fresh roses and flickering candles, lined the room. The dance floor gleamed under the ambient light, already alive with couples swaying gracefully to the gentle strains of Franz Liszt. 
The whole scene practically screamed old money.
You were going to die.
You’d never quite get used to events like these. Over the years, you’d been to your fair share of galas and charity balls, mostly because of your relationship with Damian and that brief, awkward phase when Selina was involved with Bruce.  
Each time, you had a knack for stumbling through social minefields, unintentionally insulting high-profile guests or spilling wine on someone’s multimillion-dollar gown And, without fail, the next day’s press would seize the opportunity to spotlight you and your social faux pas.
Gotham Academy, with its glossy veneer and elite crowd, was just another arena 
It was a breeding ground for rich fucks, each one more insufferable than the last. The halls echoed with the chatter of kids who had everything handed to them, their lives a far cry from yours. The only reason you’d managed to slip through those gilded gates was thanks to the Martha-Wayne scholarship. Without it, you’d still be stuck in the middle of nowhere with your mother, scraping by on whatever scraps you could find.
“Ya amar, are you going to keep staring at the floor? Or may I have the honor of requesting a dance?”
Damian’s voice cut through your self-deprecating spiral as he snapped his fingers in front of your eyes.
Blinking up at him, you pursed your lips. “I don’t know... this is a really interesting floor.”
Damian raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise. “Oh, really? Pray tell, what makes it so interesting that you’d rather stand here instead of dancing with me?”
“I don’t know. I could stare at it all night,” you hummed, crossing your arms. “Plus, we’ve got to keep our thing going, you know? I can't give in that easily.”
“Our thing? What thing?” Damian blinked.
“The thing where we act like we hate each other but still want each other carnally,” you said, throwing your head back as you laughed.
"Tt," Damian deadpanned, reaching out to grab you by the waist. He lifted you off the ground, your feet barely brushing the polished marble beneath. You wrapped an arm around his neck and giggled, holding on as he carried you toward the center of the ballroom.
“You never miss an opportunity to mortify me, do you?” Damian scolded, gently setting you back down on the floor. Both of you assumed a waltz stance, your hands finding their places on each other’s shoulders and waist.
“I think I just enjoy keeping you on your toes,” you replied with a grin, swaying gracefully with him as the music enveloped you.
Damian's lips curved into a wry smile, despite his grumbling. "You know how much I despise these games you play, Cat."
“Oh? Cat?” you laughed, the rich, velvety fabric of your dress brushing against Damian’s sleek suit as you danced. “Are we going for the classic Batman and Catwoman trope here? Because once Selina retires, I could always take up the mantle of the next Catwoman.”
Damian’s smile dropped, replaced by a look of exasperation. “Please do not. I fear what will become of you then."
“Why not?” you asked, batting your lashes coyly. “Does the idea of me as Catwoman not thrill you?”
Damian made a noncommittal sound, his ears tinged with red as he averted his gaze.
“Don’t get shy on me,” you said with a grin, your voice dropping to a teasing purr. Your hand glided up his jaw, your touch lingering just enough to be felt.
A shadow of something intense flickered in the depths of his jade-green eyes. Damian’s grip on your waist tightened slightly, his gaze narrowing into a mock glare that barely concealed the warmth beneath.
“I guess I would not... be entirely opposed to that idea,” he muttered.
He led you into a slow dance, his movements fluid and graceful, reminiscent of those quiet, moonlit nights in his manor’s kitchen. You recalled late evenings when the room was bathed in the soft, silvery glow of moonlight streaming through the windows. On those nights, the world outside felt far away, leaving just the two of you swaying gently to the soft strains of music playing from his phone’s speakers.
It was moments like these that peeled away his walls. In the soft glow of the ballroom lights, the tender, affectionate side of him emerged—like a rare flower blooming in the quiet of twilight. Each layer revealed a deeper, more intimate part of him, offering you a special kind of attention that made every shared glance and touch feel intimate.
“This crazy, almost maddening attraction I have for you makes me feel like I want to stab myself,” Damian murmured as he spun you around, the fabric of your dress flared out like a blooming flower at his feet.
“Wow, you really have a way with words,” you said with a smile. “Admit it—you love every second of it, don’t you?”
Damian’s lips curled into a smirk.
“Perhaps,” he conceded. He drew you back into his embrace as he guided you across the dance floor, your bodies moved in perfect harmony, like two pieces fitting together in a delicate puzzle.
The world around you seemed to blur into a gentle haze of soft music and swirling lights. Damian’s gaze, however, remained sharp and vigilant.
“I don’t like how they’re staring at you,” he murmured, his green eyes narrowing as they scanned the crowd. His voice carried the familiar edge of possessiveness. “Perhaps they need a reminder of whom you belong to.”
“Damian, no—”
Before you could protest, Damian leaned in, closing the distance between you with a smooth turn of his head. The kiss was tender yet heated, his teeth gently tugging at your bottom lip.
Anyone who glanced your way would see Damian Thomas Wayne with his lips pressed against yours, making it clear who he was with. It wasn’t the first time he’d been so overt—there was that incident when you both ended up in detention because he couldn’t keep his hands off you by your locker.
You whined softly, trying to pull away, a thin strand of saliva connecting your lips in a delicate, glistening thread. “We’re in public—”
“Shut up,” he murmured against your lips, his voice rough yet tender, before diving back in. The breath you had been holding escaped in a slow, shuddering sigh, mingling with his as he drew you closer, his hands firmly cupping your hips.
Damian seemed to swallow every sweet sound you made, chuckling softly as you mumbled curses against his lips, your grip on his tie tightening. The world around you blurred into insignificance, leaving just the two of you enveloped in a bubble of intense sensation. Your breaths came in ragged bursts, eyes fluttering open and then closing again, lost in the heat of the moment. When you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathless and flushed, the lingering electric buzz of the kiss still crackling in the air between you.
Damian and you locked eyes, his face blank until a shit-eating grin slowly spread across his face.
"I hate you so much," you scowled. “You’re impossible, Damian Wayne.”
“Perhaps,” he murmured, his voice a low, teasing whisper. He leaned in, using your own words against you. “Admit it—you love every second of it, don’t you?”
Before you could respond, he tilted your chin up, his lips brushing lightly against yours as he whispered, “Let them see. They’ll just have to get used to the sight.”
The kiss was softer this time, more tender, as you swayed gently against him, savoring the moment of calm.
BOOM.
Without warning, the tranquility was shattered by a deafening explosion. 
The sound of shattering glass and a violent burst of energy tore through the ballroom, turning the once elegant space into a scene of utter chaos. Crystal chandeliers swung erratically from the ceiling, their light flickering in disorienting patterns as debris rained down like confetti. The room erupted into a frenzy of screams and frantic movement as everyone scrambled for cover.
“Holy shit!” you gasped, your voice barely piercing through the screams and destruction.
CREAK.
A sudden, ominous groan echoed through the room, drawing your gaze upward. The chandelier, swaying precariously, seemed to shudder as its support gave way. Then, with a heart-stopping creak, the massive fixture began to fall. 
Without a moment’s hesitation, Damian’s hand shot out, grabbing your arm with a firm grip. 
“Move!”
You scrambled to keep up with his rapid pace, but your long gown snagged on the edge of a flipped table, sending you sprawling to the floor with a jarring thud. Your hand slipped from his grip, and Damian, realizing you were no longer beside him, turned back in a surge of panic.
With no time to guide you gently to safety, he yanked you up from the floor. He pulled you both behind the overturned table, using it as a makeshift barricade.
The chandelier crashed down with a thunderous roar, sending shards of glass, splintered wood, and shattered fragments spiraling through the air. As the debris rained down, you screamed and reached out desperately for Damian. Without hesitation, he rushed to your side, enveloping you in his arms. He pulled you close, pressing your face into his chest and shielding you from the rain of debris with his body.
Finally, the noise of destruction faded into a heavy silence. Damian lifted his head slightly, peering down at you.
“Are you okay?” he panted, voice edged with worry.
Shaken up, you heaved and shook your head vehemently, unable to find the words through your trembling fear.
“What the fuck was that?” 
"I don't have a single clue," Damian shrugged, eyes still scanning the room as he peeked over the edge of the table.
From the smoke emerged a middle-aged man, suspended in the air by his mechanical arms—sleek, metallic, and bristling with a variety of intimidating gadgets. The arms whirred and slashed through the air with deadly force, carving through the walls and sending more chunks of debris down.
“You think you can just throw away everything I’ve built?” the man roared. “This school, this place, it’s all been a mockery of my work, my life! I’ve sacrificed everything for this and you’ve repaid me with nothing but scorn!”
Damian cursed under his breath. He settled back down, biting off the fingertip of his glove and pulling it off with a grunt. Pulling up his sleeve, he tapped an emergency button on his wrist, activating a silent alert to his family.
“We have to go,” Damian whispered. He shrugged off his suit jacket and wrapped you in the fabric, pulling you close. He lifted you effortlessly, cradling you in his arms as he sprinted through the chaos.
He carried you swiftly through the building’s hallways, the shrill sound of distant alarms and the echo of your hurried footsteps reverberating off the walls. When you finally reached a safer location, he paused briefly, his sharp eyes scanning the area for any further threats.
“I’ll be okay,” you said, your voice trembling as he gently set you down. You gripped his hands tightly, trying to steady your breath. “Do—do you have your suit?”
“It’s in the car,” Damian grumbled, frustration evident in his voice as he ran his thumb over your knuckles.
“I’ll stay here and start helping with evacuations,” you say, already moving to slip out of your heels, the shoes discarded onto the floor.
Damian opened his mouth to protest, but you cut him off, shaking your head firmly.
“No,” you said firmly, your scowl sharpening. “None of this again. I make my own decisions.”
Damian’s expression hardened. “You’re not a trained fighter. You’re not supposed to be in harm’s way.”
"It's just evacuations. I’m not going to be fighting," you met his gaze as you stood up straight again. “And I’m not going to stand by while others are in danger.”
“Fine,” he said begrudgingly, “but stay hidden and keep away from the villain.”
“I know,” you said softly, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. You met his gaze lovingly before turning to re-enter the chaos. The corridors were now a frenzy of frantic students and faculty, desperately trying to evacuate.
Damian shot you one last look before sprinting back toward the parking lot.
You slipped back into the ballroom, heart pounding in your chest. The smoke swirled around you, as decor and debris lay strewn across the floor. Amid the chaos, you spotted a girl trapped beneath a toppled table, her muffled cries barely reaching your ears. Clutching your dress in your hands to avoid tripping, you hurried over to her.
“Hey, we need to move!” you called out, shoving aside the debris and wrestling with the heavy wood. With a determined push, you finally freed her from the wreckage. She wobbled as she stood, but you swiftly caught her, your grip steady and reassuring. “You’re okay now. Let’s get out of here.”
“Where’s everyone else?” she asked, her voice trembling.
“Everyone’s heading for the exits. We need to move quickly,” you replied, guiding her toward the nearest emergency exit. The sounds of the villain’s rampage echoed through the room, punctuated by the distant wail of sirens.
Once the girl was able to get back on her feet and run on her own, you rushed to assist another group, directing them towards the exits and making sure they stayed calm.
SWISH.
There was a sudden, sharp slice, and you snapped your head back toward the ballroom. Damian had reappeared, now clad in his suit.
“Robin?!”
With a decisive, diagonal slash, his katana cleaved through one of the villain’s mechanical arms. The blade sliced through the metal with a sharp, resonant hiss, and the arm’s severed end burst into a cascade of dazzling sparks. Pieces of twisted metal flew through the air like shrapnel, their jagged edges catching the erratic light from the shattered chandeliers.
His cape, a deep, blood-red shroud, billowed behind him like a dark wave, trailing in his wake as he moved. The clash of his katana against the villain’s mechanical arms echoed through the room, each strike a precise blur of red and black. 
Amidst the fight, your eyes were drawn to a figure huddled in the far corner. The student, paralyzed with fear, was frozen in place, eyes wide and fixed on the destruction unfolding before them.
Without a second thought, you sprinted towards them, nimbly navigating through the scattered debris and overturned tables. As you reached the student, you crouched beside them and gently placed a reassuring hand on their shoulder.
“Hey, it’s going to be okay. Alright? We’re going to get through this, but you need to move—now!” 
The student’s terrified eyes flickered with a glimmer of hope as they slowly began to rise with your help. Their breath came in shallow, panicked gasps, each exhale mingling with the smoky haze that filled the air. You grunted, your muscles straining as you slipped your arms beneath their shoulders, lifting them to their feet.
"Move!" you urged, guiding the student toward the doors. Their feet stumbled over the debris, but you kept a firm grip on their arm, pulling them along through the chaos. As you hurriedly navigated the wreckage-strewn floor, you felt a strange tingling sensation creeping up your leg.
It started as a subtle prickle, almost like static electricity, but quickly grew into an unsettling sensation that made your skin crawl. You glanced down, trying to pinpoint the source, but the shifting shadows and debris obscured your view. 
The legs of a spider, sleek and shadowy, crawled up the fabric of your emerald dress. Its tiny, pulsating body was nearly camouflaged against the rich material, and its eight eyes glinted with an eerie green glow, peering out from the shadows of the gown. 
Oblivious to its presence, you continued leading the student toward the safer part of the ballroom, focused on ensuring their escape.
The spider’s glow intensified, its eerie green light pulsating with an ominous rhythm as it crawled up your arm. Just as you pushed the student to safety, a sharp, burning sensation erupted where the spider sank its fangs deep into your skin. A piercing scream erupted from your lips.  The searing pain surged through your body, radiating outwards from the bite like a fiery wave. In a frantic, instinctive reaction, you slapped at your bicep, your nails digging into the skin. 
Panicked, Damian’s head snapped in your direction, eyes widening in alarm as he spotted you writhing in pain. In his moment of distraction, a metal arm swung violently towards him. The arm connected with a sickening thud against his side, the force of the impact sending him hurtling through the air. 
Damian crashed into a wall with a bone-jarring slam and his body crumpled to the ground, the force of the impact visibly shaking him. He lay there, gasping for breath, spit and blood spilling from his chin.
Groaning, he raised his head, feeling the crack in his mask press against his face. Strands of dark hair fell over his single exposed eye, partially obscuring his vision. Squinting through the haze of pain, he cursed under his breath as he saw the villain advancing toward you.
The spider's venom surged through your veins, a wave of searing, unbearable pain radiating from the bite. You stumbled and collapsed to the floor, struggling to stay upright. Pain tore through you as you crawled toward a nearby pillar, your fingers clawing weakly at the surface
Through the haze of your deteriorating vision and the throbbing fog that clouded your mind, you could barely make out the figure of the villain advancing toward you. His mechanical arms whirred with a menacing hum, their sharp, glinting edges catching the dim light of the ruined ballroom.
The last thing you saw before darkness swallowed you was a blur of red.
With a snarl, Damian lunged, his katana slicing through the air with deadly intent. The blade crashed into the villain's mechanical arm, the impact resonating like a gunshot. Sparks exploded from the severed joint, showering the room in a cascade of crackling light as the villain staggered, his metal limbs convulsing with malfunction.
Sliding across the debris-strewn floor, Damian executed a perfect skid, coming to a stop on his knees. He positioned himself between you and the advancing threat, his katana held in a poised, defensive stance.
“Is this all you’ve got?” Damian seethes. “A pathetic tantrum because your grandiose plans fell apart? You’re nothing more than a washed-up has-been clinging to your failures.” 
“You think you know what it’s like to sacrifice everything? To watch your life's work crumble? You have no idea what I’ve lost! My research was going to change the world!”
The villain’s mechanical arms flared up in response, their whirring growing louder as he prepared to strike again. Just as an arm was about to land, the piercing whir of a batarang sliced through the air. It struck the villain’s mechanical arm with precision, a bright explosion erupting from the impact. Damian grunted as he braced himself, holding firm against the shockwave, his muscles straining to keep steady. One hand instinctively dropped to your head, shielding you from the force. 
The villain recoiled in surprise, momentarily disoriented by the sudden blast, his movements faltering as the shockwave threw him off balance.
Suddenly, the room was engulfed in darkness. The lights flickered and died, plunging the space into a pitch-black void. Shadows danced along the walls, punctuated by loud bangs and the crackling of debris.
Through the darkness, Batman emerged, his imposing figure cutting through the shadows. The sound of his cape rustling was almost like a herald of doom as he got into a fighting stance.
“Robin,” Batman’s voice was a low, commanding growl, “take the girl. I’ll handle it from here.”
Damian wasted no time, swiftly scooping you into his arms. The icy chill of your skin against his own drove a spear of terror through him. The panic clawing at the edges of his mind was a monster he couldn’t afford to face, not now. He focused on keeping you as steady as possible, though your limp form felt like dead weight against him.
He tore out of the ballroom, his shoes skidding on the polished floor as he barreled into the hallway. His breath came in ragged gasps, each inhale burning in his lungs, but he didn’t slow down. He couldn’t. The entrance was just ahead.
Bursting through the doors, Damian propelled himself into the open air. The scene outside was pure pandemonium. Parents screamed for their children, kids clung to each other in terror, and the harsh wail of sirens pierced the night. Ambulance lights flickered like distant stars in the dark, red and blue blurs.
Now outside, Damian spotted a group of paramedics and, without a second thought, sprinted toward them. His hands shook slightly as he laid you down on the gurney, the coldness of your skin searing itself into his memory.
“She’s unresponsive,” he rushed out in a pant. “Pale skin, cold to the touch. Vital signs are unknown. She needs immediate attention.”
As he spoke, Selina rushed over, her fur coat billowing with each urgent step. The strands of her short, dark hair whipped wildly around her face, framing eyes wide with fear.
She bent down to your level, her breath visible in the cool night air as she placed a trembling hand on your forehead. Her fingers, warm against the alarming chill of your skin, recoiled slightly at the clammy coldness that greeted them. Selina winced, her gaze hardening as she took in the stark contrast between your deathly pallor.
“What happened?” she demanded, her voice taut with concern.
A paramedic, swiftly assessing your condition, replied, “We think she’s in shock. We’ll stabilize her and check for any other issues.”
Selina’s eyes, reflecting a storm of emotions, darted between you and Damian.
“Go,” she urged Damian, her voice carrying a firm edge despite the underlying tremor of her fear. “I’ve got this under control. Go take down that bastard and make him pay for what he did.”
Damian hesitated for a heartbeat, his gaze lingering on you. Every muscle in his body screamed to stay, but there was still a threat that left no room for hesitation. He nodded and without another word, turned and sprinted back toward the building. His cape flared out behind him, a streak against the night sky.
Selina's eyes followed Damian's retreating figure momentarily before refocusing on the paramedics. She watched them with sharp eyes, taking in every action and every word. Her hand never left your forehead, each pass of her thumb trying to provide comfort that her heart couldn’t.
As the haze of unconsciousness began to lift, you slowly became aware of your surroundings. The dim, unfamiliar light filtered through your closed eyelids, and a dull, persistent ache from the bite lingered in your arm. You winced, raising a hand to your arm to find that the pain had subsided, leaving only a faint, dull throb. There was no scar, just a vague sense of discomfort. 
Was that just a dream?
Before you could think about it anymore, your aunt's face was already in your peripheral. 
Selina's voice caught in her throat as your eyes began to flutter open. Her grip on your hand tightened involuntarily, a mix of relief and worry playing across her features.
"Hey, there," she said softly. "You gave us quite a scare, sweetheart."
You stared at her in confusion, teeth chattering against the biting cold. Selina’s eyes softened and she shed her coat, the plush fur rustling softly as it slipped from her shoulders. With gentle hands, she draped the coat around you, the dense, velvety texture brushing against your skin. The rich, warm scent of her perfume mingled with the coat’s embrace. As the coat enveloped you, its heat began to seep into your shivering body, gradually easing the icy grip of the cold.
“You’re going to be okay,” she whispered, the words more for her own reassurance than yours.
The night was supposed to be a celebration, a rite of passage, a milestone to cherish. Instead, it had turned into yet another brutal reminder of what Gotham’s streets truly were: a merciless battleground that chewed up hope and spat it out with a sneer.
God, this city was shit. 
Selina sighed, pushing those thoughts aside for the moment. The priority now was clear: get you home and into dry clothes.
"How are you feeling?" she asked softly, her fingers tracing a path along your cheek as if trying to reassure herself that you were truly okay. 
“Dizzy,” you mumbled. A soft groan escaped your lips as you tried to shake off the haze clinging to your senses. Your eyes fluttered shut for a moment, only to snap open again with a jolt as a sudden realization struck you.
“Damian—where—” you gasped, your voice barely more than a hoarse whisper. In a frantic attempt to sit up, you tried to push yourself upright, but the paramedics and Selina were quick to intervene. Their hands gently, yet firmly, guided you back down onto the gurney.
“Whoa, easy there,” Selina murmured soothingly. “Don’t push yourself. The paramedics said you’re in shock. You need to stay still for now.” 
You could feel the gentle pressure of her hands, steady and reassuring, as they anchored you in place. Her eyes, bright green, locked onto yours, conveying more than words ever could. She took a breath, her gaze flickering to the paramedics who were working swiftly around you.
“And Damian is... with his father,” she said, her voice trailing off as she gave you a look, the unspoken meaning in it clear.
Selina’s gaze shifted back to the paramedics with her usual air of confidence. She squared her shoulders, her tone now authoritative.
“Is there a chance I could take her home?” Selina asked, brushing her fingers through your hair with a gentle but firm touch. “It’s getting late, and I’d really rather have her safe in her room.”
The paramedic, a no-nonsense woman named Helen, gave Selina a critical once-over before shifting her gaze to you. Her eyes, sharp and assessing, took in your pale face and the faint tremors still running through your body.
“Well, she’s stable enough for transport, and we’ve done the basic stabilizing procedures,” Helen said, her tone pragmatic. “But she’s still in shock, and it could be risky to move her too quickly. Are you sure you can handle her?”
“She’s my kid. I’ve dealt with worse, believe me,” she replied with a wry grin.
Helen’s gaze softened slightly, though her voice remained stern. “Alright, but she’ll need monitoring for the next 24-48 hours. Light meals, plenty of rest. And no strenuous activity. She should see a doctor as soon as possible.”
Selina’s fingers idly traced patterns on the back of your hand as she listened intently to Helen’s instructions. 
“I’ll make sure all of that’s taken care of. Thank you,” Selina said, her voice carrying a rare note of sincerity. Helen nodded, seemingly satisfied with Selina’s response. She handed Selina a card with basic instructions and a phone number to call if any complications arose.
Despite your reluctance to leave while Damian was still knee-deep in the battle, your hazy mind and Selina's insistence eventually led to you being pushed into the back of your aunt's sleek convertible.
The drive was a blur of city lights and concerned glances from Selina. You leaned back, your head resting against the cool, smooth leather of the seat. The gentle hum of the engine beneath you was a steady, rhythmic comfort, a small solace amidst the turmoil. 
"Don't worry," Selina murmured, her eyes flicking to the rearview mirror to check on you. "Damian can handle himself. And the Bat will make sure he's safe. You rest. I'll tell you if anything happens to him."
Her words were a quiet promise amidst the rush of the city outside. You nodded weakly, feeling the weight of exhaustion pressing heavily on your eyelids. As the city sped by, its neon glow and shifting shadows blending into a dreamlike haze, you closed your eyes. The fatigue finally overtook you, and you drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep.
༻⊰───⋅
 Sunday , 9:02 AM - Your room, Catwoman’s Apartment.
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
There was a deep, throbbing ache in your arm, an insistent rhythm that seemed to pulse with each heartbeat, dragging you reluctantly from the depths of sleep. Your eyelids fluttered open to the soft, golden light spilling through the curtains, bathing your bedroom in a warm, comforting glow.
Through the thin walls, the distant murmur of the waking metropolis began to seep in—honking horns, the rhythmic rumble of early morning traffic, and the intermittent chatter of pedestrians starting their day. Occasionally, a siren's wail pierced through the background noise, a sharp reminder of the city's ceaseless pulse.
Faintly, through the walls, the muffled sound of the living room TV drifted to you.
“Good morning, Gothamites! Looking for another beautiful day here in the city. Clouds to start off with, but a pleasant afternoon ahead. Temperature’s in the high 40s—”
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
With a groan of frustration, you reached out to silence the blaring alarm clock. As you swung your arm toward it, the clock was crushed under the force. It slammed into the table, which splintered and buckled under the impact. Wood cracked and shattered, sending fragments skittering across the floor. The sudden and violent destruction jolted you fully awake. You stared, wide-eyed and disbelieving, at the mess, your arm still extended in mid-air as if it was frozen.
“What the—?” you muttered, your voice trailing off as you inspected your hand. It looked like your hand, perfectly normal and familiar. Just a normal hand.
Carefully, you climbed out of bed, wincing as you surveyed the mess of splintered wood and scattered debris strewn across the floor. 
You paused. A sudden, sharp tingle pulsed through your arm, like an electric jolt that raced beneath your skin. It was both invigorating and disorienting, sending a rush of awareness through your senses. Instinctively, you turned your head, your reflexes sharp as your hand darted out to catch a fly that had buzzed too close.
To your shock, your fingers closed around the tiny insect with a reflex you didn’t know you possessed. You stared at the fly, trapped gently between your fingers. Carefully, you opened your hand and let the fly go. 
It darted away, disappearing into the room. 
“Okay... That was new,” you muttered, shaking your head as if trying to clear away the confusion.
The tingling in your arm surged again, sharper and more insistent this time. You winced, the sensation both alien and unsettling, your mind struggling to grasp what was happening. Instinctively, you extended your hand, your gaze fixed on it in growing confusion.
Then, without warning, your fingers curled involuntarily, and something shot out from your wrist. A thin, silvery thread erupted into the air, glistening with a strange, iridescent sheen. 
THWIP.
The web snaked through the room, swift and fluid, before anchoring itself with a solid thunk against the wall. The sight of it—a web, unmistakably organic, stretching taut and firm—left you gaping in shock.
“What the actual fuck,” you freaked out. You took a hesitant step forward and tugged on it, half-expecting it to dissolve under your touch. But the webbing held firm.
You tried to pull it away, but it stayed stubbornly in place. Grunting, you pressed a foot against the wall for leverage and yanked harder. The webbing resisted with surprising strength, and a series of warning cracks echoed before a chunk of concrete broke away, crumbling under the strain.
The sudden release caught you off guard, sending you stumbling backward. You lost your balance and fell hard onto the floor, the impact knocking the breath out of you. For a moment, you just lay there, sprawled across the hardwood, your chest heaving as you tried to make sense of what just happened.
“What the fuck did I just get myself into?” you muttered to yourself, a disbelieving laugh bubbling up in your throat.
When you finally moved to stand, curiosity got the better of you. Experimenting, you aimed your hand at different parts of the room, determined to understand this strange new ability. 
This time, when you extended your hand, the web shot out with precision, latching onto a nearby lamp. You gave it a pull, and the lamp skidded across the floor toward you.
There was another tingle, and you perked up. The sensation was almost electric, a ripple of anticipation that seemed to focus on your bedroom door. As you turned toward it, the door swung open and Selina stepped in, dressed in her pajamas.
"What's with the noise...?” she trailed off and froze in the doorway, her eyes widening as they took in the chaos of the room. Broken wood and scattered debris covered the floor, interspersed with strands of glistening webbing clinging to the walls and lamp.
“Oh,” Selina murmured in surprise. She stepped cautiously over a particularly large piece of broken wood, her eyes darting around the room. Her gaze lingered on the webs, her brow furrowing as she raised an eyebrow at you. 
“Uh, good morning?” you offered weakly, trying to give a casual shrug despite the mess around you. “Mom, this might sound insane. But, I think I might have accidentally discovered superpowers.”
Selina stared at you, blinking slowly as she processed the scene before her. Her lips twitched as if she were trying to hold back a laugh or perhaps some form of disbelief.
“Accidentally discovered superpowers?” she echoed. “I think you've been around your boyfriend and his family too much. Baby—”
Before she could finish, your hand instinctively reached out. With a flick of your wrist, a web shot from your fingers and latched onto the door behind her. In a heartbeat, the door was yanked from its hinges, splintering as it flew across the room and crashed into the wall with a resounding thud.
Selina’s eyes widened in shock as she turned to face the now doorless doorway. She blinked at the empty space where the door had once been.
“Well,” she said, “I guess that’s one way to explain things.”
You stood there, face heating up as you tried to pull your hand back. “Y-Yeah, I think I need to work on my control.”
Selina shook her head, a frown on her lips. “Okay. First... Let’s get this mess cleaned up before the landlord starts asking questions. And maybe—just maybe—try not to redecorate the whole apartment with your... spider silk.”
༻⊰───⋅
A warm mug of coffee was placed in your hands as Selina settled beside you. You took a sip, but your knee continued to bounce in an anxious rhythm. She had called the school earlier to inform them that you would be taking it easy for the week, citing sickness as the reason.
You cast a glance at the puncture marks on your wrists with a mix of disgust and unease.
Oh, you felt sick alright.
"Alright," Selina said, taking a sip from her own coffee mug and setting it down with a clink. "We need to figure out what’s going on and how to handle it. The sooner we get a grasp on this, the better."
You nodded absentmindedly, flexing your fingers around your mug.
Selina sat with a laptop positioned between the two of you, its screen a chaotic mosaic of open newspaper articles and news websites. Humming softly to herself, she clicked through the pages, her eyes darting across headlines and images. The rhythmic clatter of her clicks was punctuated by occasional pauses as she focused on key details.
“Am I a meta?” you blurted out, staring at your reflection in the dark liquid of your coffee.
"Well," Selina began, her tone measured, "based on what we've seen so far, you're likely displaying meta-human traits. Though," she added with a wry smile, "I'm pretty sure I’m human despite the whole cat shtick. Same goes for your mother. Your father...well, that’s a different story."
You raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "What do you mean by that?"
"Secretive guy. Kind of insane," Selina murmured to herself. "He did genetics research—"
She paused.
"Wait a minute," she said, her voice trailing off as she seemed to piece together something significant. "Your father was involved in genetics research..."
Selina licked her lips before grumbling and typing into the laptop. The screen flickered, and she pulled up a dense academic paper with your father's name prominently displayed. The title read: "Genetic Enhancement through Arachnid DNA Integration: Potential and Pitfalls."
She stared at the screen for a moment, a mix of disbelief and concern crossing her face. "Total nutjob," she muttered, shaking her head.
You squinted at the screen, trying to make sense of the technical jargon. "So... what’s it say?"
Selina’s fingers danced over the keyboard, scrolling through the dense paragraphs. "It describes experiments involving spider DNA to enhance human traits—strength, agility, and reflexes. Medical use too."
RING!
The sharp ring of your phone shattered the silence, jolting you both. Startled, you fumbled with the mug in your hand, which slipped from your grip and tumbled toward the floor. Your reflexes kicked in, and your foot shot out, catching the mug mid-fall with a swift kick, sending it flying back up into your hand. You blinked.
Selina’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, her gaze flicking from the mug in your foot to you. She grabbed a notepad from the desk, her pen already poised, and began scribbling furiously.
“Fast reflexes,” she muttered.
You scrambled to set the mug back on the table, your hands slick with sweat as you snatched your phone off the couch.
"Hello?" you answered, nervously wiping your damp hands on the fabric of your jeans. "W-Who’s this?"
"Beloved?" Damian’s voice crackled through your phone, sharp with an edge of worry. Arabic curses slipped through his words. “I’m sorry for calling so late. I didn’t mean to. I was knocked out after the confrontation.”
Your heart skipped a beat. “You got knocked out? What happened?”
"Just a minor inconvenience for someone of my skillset," he said dismissively. "I’m fine now. But what of you? Father mentioned that Selina told him about your sudden absences from school.”
You hesitated, glancing at Selina, who shook her head vehemently. She pressed a finger to her lips, urging you to stay silent about the spider situation.
"Fine!" you squeaked. "Totally fine. Just... family matters."
Damian’s voice was laced with skepticism. "Family matters? Are you sure you’re alright?"
"Yep," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady despite the strain. "Absolutely. Just... you know, the explosion rattled me a bit. The paramedics said I needed some rest for a few days.”
"I can head over to care for you—"
Selina rolled her eyes and extended her hand.
“Give me the phone,” she said, her tone brooking no argument. You hesitated for a moment, but the stern look on her face made it clear you had no choice. Reluctantly, you handed it over.
"Damian," she greeted him with a sickly sweet tone, "this is Selina. Everything is under control here. There’s no need for you to come breaking into my apartment."
There was a grunt before Damian responded, "Miss Kyle, I insist. It’s no trouble. I should be there to help. As any partner would."
Selina’s eyes flashed with irritation as she leaned against the couch, arms crossed. "I appreciate your concern, kid. But it’s really not necessary. She’s fine."
"Fine?" Damian’s voice took on a mocking tone. "After a confrontation like that? I highly doubt it. Recovery after such an incident can be complicated.”
Selina scowled. Her voice cut through the phone line with a sharp edge. "Damian, do you seriously doubt my abilities as a guardian?"
There was a pause.
"With all due respect—"
"I've got this!" Selina hissed. "She's safe, she's resting, and you're not needed here right now. Understood?"
There was another pause before Damian reluctantly agreed. "Understood. But if anything happens—"
"You'll be the first to know," Selina assured him "Now, go take care of yourself. I have got this handled."
"Fine," Damian said, still sounding begrudging. "Take care."
Selina handed the phone back to you, her expression exasperated. “He’s persistent, I’ll give him that.”
“You couldn’t even imagine,” you snorted as you pressed the phone back to your ear. “Hi, baby.”
Damian’s voice crackled through the speakers, the faint static only adding to the gruffness of his tone. 
"Tt. Hello," he grumbled, his tone falling flat. You couldn’t help but snicker, the sound escaping despite your best efforts to stifle it. 
“Don’t be mad,” you whisper into the phone. “I’ll only be gone for a week. You’ll survive. Mom's right—I’m in good hands. You need to focus on recovering too.”
“Anything at all. Father and Alfred have confined me to my bed, but the window to my bedroom remains open. The sheer ignorance of their restraint measures astounds me—they failed to account for my skills in evading such confinement.”
"Please, don’t try to escape through your window on my behalf. I really don’t need Bruce lecturing us again,” you groaned, pressing a hand to your forehead. 
“Very well,” Damian said with a hint of a pout, “but do remember, I am at your disposal if you should require anything.”
“Uh huh,” you hummed. “I’ll see you soon. Take care of yourself, Dami.”
“And you, my beloved,” he said, his voice softening. “Until then.”
There was a beep, and the call ended. You sighed, letting your hand drop.
Selina took a sip of her coffee, her lips curling into a wry grin. “He’s just like his father—equally obsessive and protective. Must run in the genes. That or we just have a knack for ensnaring emotionally constipated men.”
You laughed, a light, nervous sound that filled the room. As you tried to drop your phone back on the couch, you were met with unexpected resistance. The phone stubbornly adhered to your hand, as if it had decided to become a permanent accessory.
“Uh…” 
You squinted at the phone, wriggling your fingers and trying to shake it off. No matter what you did, the phone remained firmly in place, glued to your palm.
"Sticky hands?" Selina suggested, glancing at the notepad in her hand now filled with scribbled notes and observations. She made a note with a touch of amusement, her pen moving quickly across the page.
Grumbling under your breath, you made a few more attempts to pry the phone off your hand. “Looks like it. Just another thing to add to the list of weird,” you huffed.
With furrowed brows, you used your other hand to grip the phone, attempting to twist it away. In your distracted state, you failed to account for your newfound strength. The device crumbled under your grip, shards of plastic and glass exploding across the couch.
You stared at the wreckage in disbelief, your heart sinking. Not missing a beat, Selina quickly scribbled down “Enhanced strength” on her notepad.
You grumbled as the remnants of your phone fell to the floor, a mix of frustration and embarrassment washing over you.
"Can't we—can't we call Batman for this?" you asked, your hand nervously tangling in your hair. "Why'd you stop me from telling Damian anyway?"
Selina’s expression turned severe. Her hands gripped your shoulders firmly, guiding you to face her.
"Listen to me. Batman, Damian, or anyone else cannot know about this right now."
"What—Mom—"
"Not a word," she cut in sharply. "This is meta-level stuff we're dealing with. The Bats don’t handle metas well. We need to keep this under wraps until we fully understand it. The last thing I need is Bruce doing something to hurt my daughter."
Your face fell as her words sank in.
Selina’s grip on your shoulders relaxed slightly, and her gaze softened. Her voice took on a gentler, more empathetic tone. "Power frightens people, especially when it’s something they don’t understand. When they encounter something extraordinary, their confusion often morphs into fear. And fear... well, fear can make people see threats where there are none."
She took a deep breath, her expression grim. "Batman, in particular, has contingency plans for every potential threat, even for his closest allies. We—I can't risk him viewing you as one." Her fingers tightened on your shoulders, a silent plea for understanding.
"Alright," you said quietly, trying to steady your voice. Lying to Bruce was one thing. But Damian... Damian was different. The thought of deceiving him felt like a weight pressing heavily on your chest.
Selina seemed to sense your hesitation. Her gaze softened, and she placed a hand gently on your shoulder. “I know it’s not easy,” she said, her tone soothing. “Damian is—”
“Different,” you finished for her, the word catching in your throat. “He’s always been there for me, and now... I’m just lying to him.”
Selina nodded. “I understand. But you know, that boy looks up to his father. There’s no telling he won’t spill something. I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
"I get it,” your lips pursed. “But... what do we do now?"
Selina’s expression shifted from intense to thoughtful as she took a step back, her grip loosening. She glanced at the scattered remnants of your phone, then at the notepad filled with her hastily scribbled notes.
"Well," she sighed, "we need to find another space. I think you've done enough damage in our apartment."
 ༻⊰───⋅
NEXT ->
644 notes · View notes
ronwestbreeze · 7 months
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you're gonna go far | 10
pairing: jake sully x neytiri x tsu'tey x fem!human! reader summary: a scientist arrives on pandora (unwillingly) a year after the exile of the rda. now she must deal with the likes of a clan leader, a great warrior, and a thanator rider. word count: 3.9k
read on AO3
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You eventually decided to forget your body for now and leave it to Norm to take care of it. All you were focusing on was burying yourself further into work.
Which included going back to tending to your garden by planting and replanting a few seeds and veggies. Then there was checking up on the baby who was bound to be due soon, you’d spend the last few hours of the day with her until eventually, you forced yourself to sleep in the Avatar Compound.
That was your schedule throughout the next couple of days. Along with that, you took on more work to distract yourself such as restocking more link shacks and taking care of the land along with the other avatars. It was one of the many deals the humans made with the People in exchange for letting them stay instead of going into exile. It kept you busy whenever you didn’t need to tend to your garden. Any free time that you happened to have would’ve been filled up with something else to keep you busy.
The only peace you got was at the end of the day when you were in the tank room.
“I’m sorry I’ve been gone, little one.” You said to her the first night you returned to Hell’s Gate. “I was unfortunately a bit distracted. But now I’m here and I’m never leaving you that long again. That is, until you’re born of course.”
There was a subtle shift in the stomach, bringing you a slight sense of comfort that she still remembered your voice. You didn’t know why it was comforting though. You wouldn’t be the one to hold her in the end. You probably wouldn’t be able to see her much once she was with her rightful parents…
Stop—stop.
Then there was foraging.
You enjoyed wandering around the forest to both discover new things and become well acquainted with the familiar routes. Going to your mother’s grave, finding the shack you had been trapped in, and even venturing further out just to see what was out there. Things you’ve missed.
It would’ve been nice if there was some comfort to all of it. But it made you forget. Made you think less. That was enough for now.
Until you eventually had to return to the clan’s base for Mo’at’s checkups. And not wanting to anger the Tsahik, you went anyway despite your reservations about it. All you could do was pray you didn’t run into Jake during the short visit.
So when you saw Tsu’tey with his brother inside her hut, you were strangely relieved which quickly made your stomach churn at the very thought.
His brother, Arvok, noticed you first as Mo’at was working on his abdomen. Surprisingly, he offered a white yet tired smile your way, “Ah, my savior the dreamwalker! I thought I was dreaming before.”
He ended up sitting up a bit as he spoke but Mo’at forced him to lie back down, “Hold still.”
“No need to thank me. It was nothing.” You mumbled, face impenetrably impassive.
“Nothing?! I heard you died because you saved me. How is that nothing?” Arvok sat up a little again only for his head to be forced back down by an irritated Tsahik.
You tried not to acknowledge the younger male’s words. Tsu’tey watched you for a beat before nudging Arvok’s shoulder gently, “Mawey, tsmukan.”
Not bothering to try and understand what he had said, you muttered again, this time sternly, “As I said, it was nothing—frankly, you should be more worried about yourself and the person who stabbed you.” Finding the new topic, you quickly steered the conversation in that direction. “By the way, who injured you in the first place—”
“That is none of your concern,” Tsu’tey said simply with his face somewhat screwed into his usual scowl.
You nodded expectantly, “Yeah, I thought so.”
Arvok then nudged his arm, hissing at him in  Na’vi. Tsu’tey didn’t appear happy but spoke again, “It is clan business. Something that you should not concern yourself with. You have been too involved enough as it is.”
“Ha!” Mo’at huffed earning a glare from the Olo’eyktan. She did not offer more and continued tending to Arvok.
“Well,” You frowned, clenching and unclenching your hands. By then you realized you were still standing while the other three were much closer to the ground. “I did get poisoned by this clan business but you’re right. I suppose it is none of my concern.”
At this, Mo’at finally stood and scowled at the two of you—more specifically Tsu’tey, “If this is how your interactions will be during this time, then I must ask you to leave and come back when you are ready to speak with her correctly.” She gestured for Arvok to sit up—albeit slowly—and dismissed him, “You must continue resting. It will be a long while before you can hunt again.”
“Yes, Tsahik.” With a grumble, Arvok slowly pushed to his feet, the wince clear on his youthful features. But he looked better. Better than you had expected someone to have been stabbed to look. Then again, Mo’at must’ve been working on him while you had been unconscious—dead—so he had time to get better.
He held his abdomen gingerly as he walked past you, sending you a quick nod before he finally left. “You!” At that, your attention turned back to Mo’at who was now pointing at the spot Arvok had been, “Sit. Now.”
Obediently you sunk to the floor and allowed Mo’at to start her work on you. Tsu’tey surprisingly didn’t leave and just lingered in the background much to your dismay. But your body wasn’t tense because of his presence. You were constantly glaring at the doorway, waiting for him to show up at that point, waiting with your guard up, waiting for yet another fight with that damned asshole.
“You shouldn’t be putting so much strain on this arm. You should be resting as well, let yourself get adjusted to your new body.” Mo’at instructed sternly as she applied new green mush to your arm.
You winced, both at the subtle sting in your arm and the easy way she mentioned your transference. As if it was another day. You couldn’t tell whether that pissed you off or made you quite relieved that at least someone was making a huge deal out of it. You’d already cried everything out of your system. Now you just wanted to allow yourself to feel numb.
Just until everything came back up again. If it ever would.
In the corner of your eye, Tsu’tey shifted onto the mat further behind you.
Mo’at pressed her hand against your arm, “Have you buried your former body yet?”
You chewed on the inside of your cheek, “Why are you asking me that now?”
“Some questions will be hard to answer. It is the way of life.” She replied easily as she began unwrapping the bandage on your shoulder. “But it is okay to not be ready. Are you not read, dreamwalker?”
“Sure.” It was all you offered.
You left the body to Norm now. You made him swear not to tell you where he planned on putting it. And you were okay with that.
You were fine—you were fine—you were fine—
Eventually, after enduring a long silence—which you were quite comfortable with—Mo’at finished and stood. You moved to get up as well but she pressed her hand down on your shoulder and shook her head, “You speak with Olo’eyktan first. Then you leave.”
With that, she stepped out of the hut and you, after great reluctance, looked over your shoulder at Tsu’tey to find him slightly sitting hunched over on the ground, playing with something in his fingers.
You weren’t going to speak first. He wanted to speak with you. You would wait for him.
And eventually he did, “When Mo’at brought up the potential—that you could be our fourth mate—what did you think?”
The question startled you. It was the last thing you ever thought he’d ask. And the fact that it was Tsu’tey himself asking you this and not Neytiri or hell, even Jake.
But you remained on guard anyway, “Do you care?”
At that, he raised his gaze from whatever was in his hands to look at you, “Many people have made their opinions known about the matter. All but you. It’s as if your voice is drowned out by an unforgiving storm. I am asking you, dreamwalker. What do you think of it?”
For a moment you considered your words carefully. The conversation wasn’t adversary so you lowered your defense, only by a little bit. And as you thought about your answer, you realized you hadn’t even had the chance to think about what you truly thought about the idea of being their fourth mate. Neytiri had mentioned them looking for one long ago but you never imagined it would be you. You never imagined—
You never imagined you’d be loved.
And because of that, it was simply never in the cards for you. Even if there were moments where you—
“Why does it matter anyway?” You glared down at your fingers, watching as your nails dug into your palms. “Can you honestly imagine us as mates? I mean have you thought about it yourself? Can you even imagine Jake and I as mates? After the other night? Tsu’tey, I think the answer’s pretty clear.” You faced him, jaw tight and your voice quiet despite your steeled spine, “I’m too broken. And it would be cruel—I am not cruel and I’m not selfish enough to allow you three to drag yourselves to the bottom because of me. And that’s what I think. It’s quite simple actually—”
“To your human mind, yes.” Tsu’tey shook his head and stood, turning his back to you. He paced for a moment, eyes searching the room until he finally spoke. “But it is about duty. If Eywa has favored you then I must do my job as Olo’eyktan and honor that. If you are our fourth—”
“You don’t know that.”
“You are right, I do not!” He hissed but stopped, almost as if he were restraining himself.
You clenched your hands together again, glaring down at the matted floor. For a moment, the two of you were silent. This had to be the longest conversation you and Tsu’tey had ever had. And of course, it was about something heavy, something complicated, something difficult to even comprehend. Why couldn’t it have been something simple? Why couldn’t things be simple?
“I have failed my people.”
A beat went by and you looked up, wondering if that was all he had to say only to find his gaze on you. Intense and yellow. Unreadable yet uncomfortable to receive, nonetheless.
But his face was gentle as he spoke. His voice was quieter, “And in some ways, I feel I have failed our Great Mother. I feel I have failed my mates. My son. My unborn children. My mother. My brother. My father. Perhaps you do not understand it, dreamwalker, but it is my sworn duty to do what I must for my clan. To be the leader that they deserve. And I am not.” He stepped forward until he was standing in front of you and dropped something into your hands.
It was pretty. A handwoven string of beads and gems, almost too gorgeous to belong to someone like you. You held it limply in your hands, not wanting to touch it any further.
“I am not a good mate.” He continued, now his face unreadable. You weren’t really sure what yours looked like at the moment but you hoped it didn’t convey what you felt at the moment as he spoke.
Utter dread. Shock. And pity.
“If I had proposed to you, I would have thought that I had done right by the Great Mother.”
He said it so simply. Proposed? Tsu’tey? To you? How come he didn’t appear affected when he said these words? Why was it you that was struck frozen by this revelation?
Perhaps he was good at hiding it. Perhaps you were too.
Tsu’tey knelt in front of you and looked down at the string, his face still a mask. “I would take care of you, just as I do with my other mates. I would treat your children as my own, I would be okay with not being in love with you for the sake of duty.” Unconsciously, your fingers wrapped around the string as you took in his words. Very deliberate, very careful, very real. “But you would have said no. And I would be okay with that too. Because I cannot commit to my duty. Because I am a bad Olo’eyktan. And…” The words seemed difficult to spill out from his mouth but he forced it out anyway. “And I am not cruel enough either, dreamwalker.”
For a moment, you did not say a thing. For a moment, you wondered if you were dreaming. For a moment, you wondered if there could be a world where you and Tsu’tey weren’t hostile to each other like now. You wondered if there could be a world where you’d look at him as something more.
Because in the end, you appreciated his honesty. Frankly, that was one of the best things you liked about the Na’vi. They weren’t like humans. They didn’t hold anything back because they didn’t see a reason to.
And it made your next words clear and firm, “Your search for worthiness isn’t on me, Tsu’tey. And a proposal definitely wouldn’t have been able to fix that.” You frowned and glanced down at the string and then back at him, “That wasn’t a proposal, right?”
Tsu’tey stood then, his tail swishing behind him. “I suppose it was. In a way.” He looked at you expectantly, “And your answer, dreamwalker?”
He held a look that told you he already knew your answer. You stood as well and handed him back the beaded string with yet another impassive mask, “No. That is my answer. But you knew that.”
Wordlessly, he took the beads back, his gaze never leaving it. You stood there for a moment, feeling exhausted once more. And again, Tsu’tey allowed himself to appear the same.
Too tired for this world. Too tired to carry on.
You steeled yourself away and stood straighter, “So you agree. This isn’t what Eywa wanted.”
At that, his ears twitched, “We do not know what she wants. It has always been that way. And it will remain so.”
Nodding, you moved past him and toward the entrance, only to stop short. Your brain was muddled, your emotions were tangled, and yet you spoke clearly. “If your deity is as great as you all say she is, then I’m sure she wouldn’t want you to suffer.”
Without waiting for a response, you left. Not daring to look back. Not daring to ponder questions you’ve never thought about until now.
Enough. Enough of all of it.
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“Any day now.” You mumbled, staring bleakly down at the table as Norm was checking the ultrasound. It was weird being several inches taller than him now when in human form he had quite the height over you, “We just have to watch her closely now.”
Norm nodded, “Good, good. That’s great news. I’ll let the parents know. You good staying here for a bit?”
“Always.” You watched over the tank as Norm left the room. Tucking the tablet under your arm, you placed your hand against the class, “Can’t wait to meet you, finally. I wonder if you’re gonna be as quiet when you’re born.”
The silence was suffocating, and So were the tears. They had finally come.
God, you were so angry.
Was this really all you were worth? An obligation? Something so worthless that you needed empty protection? Was that all they saw in you? Was that all you’ll ever be to them?
You sank into a nearby chair, allowing the silent tears to fall.
It wasn’t what you wanted. You didn’t want to be the outsider—the intruder. All you wanted was to save a bunch of trees and now you’re here. A stain. An inconvenience. Blood red on a perfect white canvas.
This baby girl didn’t deserve someone as shattered as you. She deserved the loving parents that claimed her from the beginning. Protected and kept away from your storm.
“I hope this world doesn’t hurt you, little one.” You wiped at your eyes, beaten and bruised already.
Norm eventually came back moments later. You hadn’t gotten up from the chair. He saw your dried tears and cleared his throat, “Jake said he’s already on his way, um,” He appeared careful and gentle as he spoke, “I’ll take over if you need a break.”
“You don’t have to.” Was your attempt at a protest.
But he shook his head adamantly, “No, I will. You’ve—it’s been pretty rough for you. It’s the least I can do for…”
You frowned as he avoided your gaze.
“I could’ve done better—more to save you—”
“Spellman, you're fine,” You shook your head and stood. “I don’t blame you—couldn’t if I wanted to. You’re the only one that has my back here. Well, maybe besides Neytiri.”
“Are you going then?” He asked as you walked passed him.
“Yeah, I’m gonna try to cool off. Maybe go on a walk.”
“You sure? Don’t get another chunk of your skin bitten off again. Or poisoned.”
“Ha-ha.” You responded dryly.
Deciding you wanted fresh air, you left out of Hell’s Gate and went into the forest.
You had marked the places you passed with small white strips in the past, tying them to smaller branches. It allowed you to venture further away from the base this time. And by the time the sun began to set, you found yourself at the waterfall, the same one you were at with Tsu’tey before.
And you stayed there. This time you went toward the waterfalls’ mist surrounding you the closer you got to the waterfall itself. The water moved up toward your waist until you were practically floating above water.
For a while, you stayed like this. Until night came. You stayed like this until your hair stuck to the back of your neck.
Eventually, you passed through the waterfall. Breathing out a long and delicate sigh.
These waters relaxed you. These waters made you forget.
Once you reached the other side of the waterfall, there was a rock large enough for you to hoist yourself on. And sit there. You didn’t know how long you’d stay there and you didn’t care. The world outside of this place didn’t matter to you. For a while, you just wanted to forget. To become stone.
Half alive and half buried in the ground.
That is until the world called for you to come back. Until the world wrapped its grip on you and yanked you back into reality.
Until something whizzed past your face, cutting some of the strands from your unbraided hair.
And now across from you was a spear lodged into the stone. Whoever had thrown it had great strength. Whoever had thrown had meant to kill you.
Instantly, you froze. Heart pounding against your chest, blood rushing to your ears.
“Demon!” AN unfamiliar voice shouted further away—possibly on land away from the waterfall. Quickly, you lowered yourself on the rock. Most of the water from the mountain and mist hid you, so there was a chance that the attacker couldn’t see you. “Come out and I kill you!”
You didn’t move from the rock. From what little you could hear, the voice spoke in Na’vi as if he was giving orders to someone. Which meant this guy wasn’t alone. The many splashes coming toward you only confirmed that.
As quietly as possible, you slid off the rock and toward the spear, yanking it out of the wall with what little strength you had left. A shadow then passed you as you ducked behind the rock just as a figure stepped through the waterfall. He was wearing strange armor and his war paint was different from what you had seen the Omatikaya wear. Which also told you that these warriors that surrounded you were from a different clan. A clan you were sure that weren’t reluctant in having to kill the likes of you for being human.
 The warrior had an arrow pointed and ready. Fortunately, he hadn’t seen you yet.
But before you could take your chance at escape, a quicker shadow to the right dived through the falls, aiming another spear at you.
It was so quick, you hadn’t heard the other warrior coming and barely dodged the sharp end of her spear as you slid off the rock and into the deep waters.
The spear didn’t slow and sunk into the water with you. You swam away from the two, going deeper underwater until you weren’t able to be spotted. You continued swimming away from the small enclave and made it to the other side of the waterfalls.
Praying that the mist continued to cover you up, you came up for air and climbed onto a nearby rock. You still had the discarded spear and gripped it in your hands as you hopped onto another rock—not even stopping when you heard a bunch more splashes and shouts in Na’vi coming toward you.
Once you were sure they were far enough away from you, you continued hopping on the rocks until you finally reached land. But you didn’t run, knowing that it would make too much noise. Instead, you clutched the spear to your chest and slinked into the forest, just as how Neytiri had done it when the two of you would travel through the forest together.
Be one with the forest and all that shit.
God, you couldn’t catch one break. First Jake, then Tsu’tey, and now this? It was like the universe hated you for some reason.
As quickly and as quietly as possible, you put some distance between you and the waterfall. When you got far enough, you ducked behind a thick tree, pressing your back against it while taking in shaky breaths. You kept the spear close to your chest as if it were a shield while praying that you had been quiet enough to escape.
Something sharp pressed against the side of your neck, instantly squashing any hope you had left.
“You are loud, demon.” She spoke in Na’vi. It was one of the only sentences you recognized since Neytiri used to say it to you all the time in the beginning.
You remained still, staring at the warrior in the corner of your eye.
She took the spear from your hands and tossed it to the ground, not lowering hers.
“Where is your clan, sawtute?”
Okay, she spoke a little English. Which meant this clan had lived around humans at some point,.
“I don’t have a clan.” You gritted out shakily, “And I’m not trespassing—”
“Demon! All of you!” She hissed, the tip pressing further into your skin. “I kill you and bring your head back to my clan. The rest of you demons will follow!”
You glanced toward the spear on the ground, trying to figure out how fast you’d have to move to get it and escape.
But you nor the warrior didn’t get a chance to do anything as an arrow flew through the trees and hit the warrior in her shoulder.
She stumbled back, you took the chance and grabbed the spear from the ground.
As the warrior fell to her knees, your savior stood further away behind her. Bow raised with another arrow pointed at her.
You breathed out shakily, “It’s you.”
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(i'm not adding any more people anymore!)
taglist: @doggyteam2028 @bigbootahjudy @innercreationflower @n7cje @celi-xxmoon @readerofallthingss @sillyblues @saturnhas82moons @1mawh0re @aprosiacperson @loserwithnofriends @garfieldsladybird @slutforsmut4ever @lik0
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781 notes · View notes
moonstruckme · 6 months
Note
HII I LOVE YOUR WORK SM!! I literally can't stop reading them 😭 I love you so much for making all of them !!
May I ask if we could get more of shy Remus?? As soon as I read the first one I immediately fell in love !
Thank you so much!! 🫶🏽
Hi lovely, thank you! Sorry this took me so long, I've wanted to write it ever since it came into my inbox but it took me forever to come up with an idea </3
cw: very vague implication of smut
shy!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 1k words
Remus looks surprised when he opens the door, and immediately after that embarrassed. For what, you never know. 
“Hi,” he says, lips curving into a smile as if of their own volition. “Um, I haven’t missed anything, have I?” 
You laugh. “No, you’re fine. I was just nearby and thought I might return your jumper.” 
It’s a half-truth. You’re ambushing him and you know it, but Remus’ reticent disposition means you know next to nothing about his life and after weeks of dating you’re really itching for a peek behind the curtain. You’ve brought chocolate muffins to make up for it. 
“Oh, that’s thoughtful of you.” Remus’ voice is soft as always, that adorable smile still playing on his lips until you both hear footsteps bounding down the stairs inside. He glances behind him, moving a bit more in front of the door. “While you’re here, maybe we could go have coffee or—” 
“Who’s that?” 
The voice seems like a sound of much dread for Remus, if his expression is anything to go off of. He ignores it, speaking only to you. 
“Or there’s a park just down the way—”
“Remus.” It’s a different voice this time, yet the effect upon Remus’ countenance is the same. “Who do you have there?” 
“Hi!” you say over his head, mutinous. 
“A girl?” Remus’ entire body seems to sag in resignation. “Remus Lupin, stop hiding her from us immediately.” 
“Sod off.” He says over his shoulder, as brash as you’ve ever heard him. It’s a bit thrilling. 
“I will not. Reveal your secrets, you dirty dog.” 
You actually do feel quite bad for Remus, a blush spreading all the way up to the tips of his ears, but he lets go of the doorframe, letting himself be wrestled out of the way. 
“Hello.” A dark-haired boy weasels his way into Remus’ place, giving you a salacious up-down. You raise your eyebrows at him, delighted. So this is who Remus associates with when he’s not with you. “My, you’re a pretty thing. And you’re here to see Remus?” 
“I am,” you confirm. “I’m here to bring back his jumper.” 
“Which would lead one to believe, “a second boy appears behind the first, both of them keeping Remus from reclaiming his spot at the door, “that you’ve seen him before.” 
You laugh. “I have. We’ve been dating a few weeks now.” 
“Remus!” The second bellows, eyes blowing comically wide behind his glasses. “Weeks? Weeks, and you haven’t said a word. How could you?” 
“I don’t suppose you have a bit of time on your hands,” the first boy says smoothly. 
“I’ve…” You check the time. “I do, actually.” 
He grins, wolflike. You’re not sure who the prey is. You worry it’s your date. 
“Yes!” The one with the glasses is effervescent, brimming with eagerness. It’s contagious, you find; you’re smiling too. “You have to come in, please.” 
You’re dying to, but you peer past them, locking eyes with Remus. He looks to be wishing for a swift and painless death, but he gives you a soft smile anyways. Nods. 
“Sure,” you say, “I could join you for a bit.” 
Some of the boisterous energy settles as they usher you inside, the need for urgency vanquished now that they’ve got you in their clutches. Begrudgingly, Remus introduces you, and the other two hassle him about taking off your coat and showing you where to put your shoes before he gets a chance to do either. Soon you’re settled comfortably in the armchair they tell you is Remus’ favorite. 
“Can I make you a cuppa?” Remus asks, and James and Sirius both oooh as he rolls his eyes. You nod at him, eyeing the other two amusedly. 
“He must really like you,” James says, “if he’s offering to make you tea.” 
“Hence why you’re not getting any,” Remus says over his shoulder as he stalks for the kitchen. 
“Prick,” Sirius calls after him. “We didn’t want any anyways.” But he crosses his arms, sulking back against the couch cushions. James, on the other hand, leans towards you. 
“So,” he says severely, “what are your intentions with our Remus?” 
A quiet sound of distress comes from the kitchen, but you all ignore it. “Your Remus?” you ask. 
James nods self-assuredly. “We’ve known him since primary school. If you two get married, I’ll be the one giving him away.” 
You raise your eyebrows. Remus’ head pops out of the kitchen, glaring daggers in a way you didn’t know he knew how. “You will not.” 
“What?” James looks gutted. 
“That’s not the point.” Sirius waves both of his friends off, though James looks like he would very much like to continue on the topic. “Tell us about you two, gorgeous. Where did you meet, how long have you been dating, has Remus told you where he hides his chocolates?” 
“Alright, that’s enough,” Remus says, coming back with your tea. He passes it to you carefully, handle out, and both you and James hiss at him for holding the hot part. 
“We haven’t even gotten her to answer anything yet,” Sirius complains. 
“It’s not her fault you haven’t given her the chance.” Remus perches on the armrest of the chair. It's probably so he can avoid sitting next to his nosy friends, but pride swells in your chest anyway at being chosen. You take his hand, and he squeezes your fingers in response. 
Sirius coos. “Only a few weeks of dating and he’s already holding her hand. I’m so proud.” 
You grin up at Remus, knowing what you could say to really shock his friends but not wanting to embarrass him further. He’s already flustered enough that his scars stand out in stark contrast against his flushed skin, but his look softens as he meets your eyes. Something about him eases, a small smile curving his lips. 
You decide it’s permission enough. 
“You’ve been a bit bolder than that, haven’t you, handsome?” 
James and Sirius erupt in hoots and hollers. Remus looks like he might well fall off the edge of the chair for how stiff he’s gotten. 
“Sorry,” you whisper, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek. It’s burning. “I’m not trying to torment you. We can go be alone in your room, if you like.” 
“No-o.” James waggles a finger at you. “Now that we know what you’re up to, you won’t be getting him alone in our house. You’re set on corrupting him!”
923 notes · View notes
bangtanintotheroom · 1 year
Text
Undershirt, Underskirt (M)
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• Pairing: Bang Chan x (F)Reader
• Genre: Idol!AU, Smut, Fluff, Established Relationship
• Rating: 18+
• Words: 1.3k
• Summary: Your boyfriend’s Lollapalooza attire leaves you wanting for him more than usual.
• Warnings/themes: Chan’s Lollapalooza fit 🫠, pining, ogling, Y/N being horny on main, making out, riding, semi-clothed sex, unprotected sex (she’s on BC), praise
• Notes: *sighs* Look. I’m not gonna act like there was some deep reason behind writing this. I saw Chan in a tank and went absolutely feral. Like, DISGUSTINGLY FERAL. So I had to get it out of my system somehow 🥲 Funny enough, something like this happened last year with Hobi at Lollapalooza…makes me curious about next year lmao
• Notes (2): Thanks to my demonic tender @minttangerines​ for the beta and encouraging me to go ahead and get my thoughts out on paper! 💕
• Taglist: @jimilter​ @joontied​ @minisugakoobies​ @minttangerines​ @sugalaritae​ @crisle19​ @codeinebelle​ @kookprada​ @saweetspoiled​ @effielumiere​ @m1sss1mp​ @spookyminyunki​
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Time was never something that you paid much attention to. You went with the flow with no problem. But right now?
Every second that passed by without your boyfriend walking through that room door was time that was wasted not sitting on his dick.
Your grip on the skirt of your dress tightened when you watched the minutes on the alarm clock change yet again. A low grumble escaped your pursed lips as you stewed in this lonely hotel room.
This was unlike you.
You weren’t some 24/7/365 horny monster who would wither away without a helping of Chan. But you had been witness to an unspeakable sight on the Lollapalooza stage.
The sight of Chan removing his jacket to reveal a white tank underneath paired with a multitude of gold chains.
The light stick you had been holding almost fell with how off-guard you were taken. All the times you had seen him in various states of undress and this was what broke you?
Maybe it was the simplicity of the fit that got to you.
Maybe it was the display of his muscled arms and lightly-tanned skin that affected you.
Maybe it was the fact that you kept seeing his top ride up, showing off the flatness of his lower stomach that sat above those damn leather shorts.
Leather shorts that concealed what you were dying to have in your mouth, hands or pussy right now.
Your thighs rubbed together at the strong wave of pleasure that washed over from the thought.
Okay, maybe it was all on you just being a horny mess.
The clicking of the doorknob had you darting up into a full sitting position now, watching it turn with widened eyes. The door opened to reveal the object of your salacious desires, his tired face lighting up at the sight of you.
“Hey baby! Sorry I’m so—”
Your body went on autopilot and bounded down the bed and over to Chan, pouncing on him with your arms wrapped tight around his neck. A sound of exertion left as the weight of you transferred onto him, the force pushing his back into the door. Before he could ask what had gotten into you, you planted your lips on his, the taste of him and his vanilla lip balm only exacerbating your horniness.
It took a few seconds, but he was quick to return your kiss, dropping the bag he held in favor of resting his palms on your ass. But the gentleness of his hold swept away as soon as your tongue came out to part his mouth, long fingers digging into the clothed flesh with intensity.
Damn.
You thought having him in the flesh would ease your pain, but his hard body against your softer one and the scent of his cologne and sweat invading your nostrils only made it worse. There was only one way to fix it.
Pulling away when you were losing breath, you panted, “Please fuck me.”
Chan’s lidded dark eyes opened wide at your plea, still trying to wrap his head around what the fuck was going on.
“Y-Y/N? You good?”
“No, I’m not good. I’ve been wet as an ocean since you were on stage and I need you to help me out.”
Your whining made a low groan leave him, head tipping back against the wood.
“For real?”
Rather than speak, you took one of his hands and slipped it under the hem of your dress. Just the light touch of his fingers brushing against your clothed center had you biting back a whimper, but it was nothing compared to the sharp swear Chan let out.
“The fuck, baby, you’re soaked—”
He ripped that concealed sound out of you by giving your near-throbbing clit a light pinch, making your knees wobble for a moment.
“Can you help me? U-Unless you’re tired…”
Chan straightened the both of you up with his free hand, the look in his eyes speaking volumes.
“Sleep is overrated. Come on.”
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Your boyfriend may have denounced slumber earlier, but halfway through the fun, his movements grew a bit slower. Not wanting to exert him any further, you guided him to recline against the headboard and let you take over. The grateful smile he gave was more than enough to make your night.
Well, that and being able to finally sit on his dick like you so desperately wanted.
“Is this really all because of my outfit?”
A huff left you at his inquiry, one hand sliding down from his damp shoulder to give the tank top he still adorned a light tug.
“Yes, babe. Why do you sound so shocked?”
Chan chuckled, biting back a groan as you gave a clench. “Nah, I just don’t get to see you like this often. I like it.”
Now you giggled, leaning forward to press your nose against his.
“Do you?”
A sudden thrust from him interrupted your riding.
“Yeah.”
The moan you let out ended up bringing another stroke from him, forcing your hand to go back to holding him for support. His own roamed over your body, rubbing and gripping in multiple areas that made your blood run hot.
“This plus what you’ve got on? You’re lucky I didn’t run off the stage.”
You laughed at his scenario, knowing damn well he wouldn’t risk such a maneuver.
While you had requested Chan to keep his upper torso clothed (no point in keeping on the ripped shorts), he came in with one of his own, asking if he could just push your dress out of the way. You had no qualms against that, allowing him to tug the hem to gather around your waist while he slid your panties down and off your legs. So what if you were sweating a little more than usual because of the fabric?
That’s what showers were for.
One was definitely going to be necessary after the day the two of you had and the current act that was making everything between your moving bodies sticky and slippery.
After some time, every action on both of your ends led to your riding getting faster and off-beat and his occasional thrusts to become more frequent. It didn’t help when Chan buried his face into your neck, thick voice rumbling against your wet skin, “Gonna make me come if you keep this up, babygirl—”
Surely he could feel the tremble that rocked your entire body.
“Good.”
You gave him little time to prepare after your reply, doing a certain move with your hips that always pushed him to the edge quickly. This time was no exception, Chan’s noises of bliss increasing in pitch until a guttural groan silenced them, feeling him grab your hips to bury himself as he twitched and filled you up with his come. You were able to go against his grip a bit to roll your hips enough to give your clit some stimulation, allowing you to achieve your own orgasm as well.
You could feel Chan laying nips and kisses all over your neck as you shook, followed close with endless praise that made your pussy give clenches that forced his speech to pause. A sense of pride washed over you at how it pulled a few more spurts from him, adding to the heat that coated your walls.
As soon as you slumped onto him, he shifted your bodies so he was laid flat with you directly on top, toned arms holding you tight.
“All better now?”
A hum of content came from you as you snuggled into his chest, your overheated cheek enjoying the cool metal of his chains.
“Much better.”
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©bangtanintotheroom, 2023. Crossposted to AO3. Do not repost to other sites or copy without permission.
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myspacebrat · 2 years
Note
I’ve had this thing in the back of my head for awhile about Phone Sex Operator!Eddie and the reader going through a dry spell so she calls to get out her frustration OR the other way around and Eddie constantly calls because he’s obsessed with her voice, and most of the time he just wants to hear her voice so he’ll spend his time just talking to her
dial-a-thrill
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Phone sex operator!eddie munson x fem!reader
summary: you and your ex broke up more than five months ago and you’ve refused to start dating again, even the thought of a one night stand puts a bad taste in your mouth but on a lonely night something you thought you’d never be desperate enough to do, becomes as tempting as ever.
⚠️warnings: eventual smut, 18+ mdni, phone sex, dirty talk, masturbation, sweet eddie, talk of sexual acts, lots of pet names (baby, sweet thing etc) readers been deprived, one little mention of readers ex being a cheater, they fall fast.
notes: thank you so much to whoever requested this. I’m obsessed with this prompt. Yes, there will be a part 2. (don’t forget to tip your writers with a comment and reblog)
wc: 3k
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You’re not sure what lead you to this point, what has you so desperate to stoop to a new low. But you’re willing to bet it’s the fact that you’ve not been touched in several months. After you ended things with your cheating, lying, sorry excuse of an ex boyfriend Troy, the thought of moving on and putting yourself back out there in the dating world just didn’t seem appealing to you in the slightest. You decided after the break up to throw yourself into work, so you didn’t have to deal with the hollowed out feelings of loneliness that had taken over.
Up until now, you thought you’d be completely fine, you thought you would make single life your bitch by doing just that, staying single. What’s the point of moving on when you’re just bound to get hurt? You couldn’t risk feeling that pain, again.
So instead of being a normal person and going out to a bar or club to find someone to offer you the release you’ve been craving, you’re dialing a number you got off the the tube as you watched some late night tv. The commercial alone had you hot and bothered, the men they used for the ad reeled you in so easily, but the sultry sound of the man’s voice that read off the number, beckoning you to call and talk to “hot local men” had you shamelessly clenching your thighs together. Has it really been so long, that you’re this desperate? The answer is yes, absolutely.
So here you are laid in bed, silky pajamas adorning your curves, as you wrap the red cord of the landline around your manicured fingers. Awaiting a voice on the other end, as the phone continues to ring. You debate hanging up, this was embarrassing, surely the man that picks up will know what a desperate loser you are, so desperate you have to call a phone sex operator to help you get off. But your curiosity out weighed your pride at this point.
“Hello, thank you for calling dial-a-thrill, what’s your name?” The low husky voice greeted, knocking you right out of the back and forth thoughts playing ping pong in your mind.
“Hi, hello.” You replied, as all confidence left your body “m-my names, y/n.” You closed your eyes in shame, rubbing your hand down the side of your face, it’s been so long that you can’t even speak to the opposite gender without fumbling over your words, or it could be the insanely attractive voice of the man on the phone, that is making you lose all resolve.
“Nice to meet you y/n, my names Eddie. How are you this evening?” He mused, you could hear the hints of a smirk said through his words.
“I’m doing okay, how’s yours?” And you definitely sucked at small talk.
“Can’t complain now that I’m talking to you.” He flirted, you know he probably says that to everyone who calls in, but you couldn’t help the blooming heat of your cheeks at his admission.
You giggle like a little school girl, “well same here, Eddie.” You try out the same salacious tone he’s using, but end up cringing at yourself.
“What can I help you with tonight, sweetheart?” Your panties are ruined, you mind as well take them off now because if he keeps up with this you’ll be drenched. “Hmm, I don’t know, I just wanted to talk.” You responded, immediately realizing how desperate that sounds, you should’ve just hung up when you had the chance.
“Just to talk? Are you sure about that?” He laughs a little before continuing. “I mean, we can talk, don't get me wrong but people don’t usually call just to talk.” Yup, you were right, you are humiliated.
“Yeah, I’m sure they don’t, but um I’ve just I don’t know maybe this was a dumb idea, I’m sorry.” You almost slam the phone down back onto the receiver before you hear his voice again, “no, no, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to make you feel bad or weird just because you want to talk. I don’t mind talking, sweet thing, I’m just not used to it, that's all.”
You bite your lip, mentally battling with yourself whether you want to continue, his voice once again knocks you out of your inner turmoil, “hello? Sweetheart?” — “mmm, yeah I’m here, sorry!” You say after clearing your throat. “Well what would you like to talk about? we can talk for as long as you'd like, but just to remind you, it is 5 dollars per hour.”
“Right, yeah I remember,” you clarified as you lay back into your pillows, getting more comfortable. “So, how do these calls usually go for you?” Probing purely out of curiosity, a little part of you wanting to know how this phone call could possibly go.
“Well, that depends on you, sweet thing.” He chuckles, “but, usually it’s women wanting me to help them get off.” He sighs, as if he’s deep in a memory, “mm, I see, so what do you usually say t-to help them?” You were aware Eddie could practically feel your nervous energy through the phone, “hey, baby. I can tell you’re nervous, I'm sure this is your first time doing this, but I promise you I'm not here to judge you, I don’t bite okay?” His voice going from an almost low growl to that of a tone with genuine compassion, it put you at ease and made you feel ten times more comfortable with the whole situation.
“Thank you, I needed that.” You lightly chuckle, “so, do you also touch yourself? Or, I mean I’m sure you get so many calls, sometimes you have to fake it.” You continue prodding until the conversation slowly goes in the right direction, in due time. He hums before he begins speaking, “I’ll be honest, I fake it about 80% of the time, after doing this so long you kind of get immune to the dirty talk and the moans.” You weren’t sure if you wanted that honesty, you definitely don’t want him to fake it with you.
After a beat of silence from you, as if he’s telepathically reading your mind through the phone he lets out a held breath softly distorting the sound on his side. “Shit, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have said that, I’m trying to make you comfortable and now you’re probably going to be worried about whether what I’m doing or saying is real.” He huffs. “No, I mean yeah that was my first thought but I guess I asked so you’d answer honestly. You’re right, I’ve never done anything like this before and I’m just curious on how it all works.” You begin playing with the buttons on your silky top out of nervousness.
“That’s alright, I’ve never had anyone call in curious about any of this, so it’s a nice change. You just tell me what you’re comfortable with and I’ll follow along. How does that sound, baby?” His tone pulls you in like a siren's song. “Yeah, that sounds good.”
You bite your lip, and begin rubbing at your pert nipple as you continue to speak. “Eddie?” Your voice sounded so soft, you almost didn’t recognize it. “Yes, sweetheart?” His voice, just as soft, answered. “Can you not pretend with me, please?” You sounded so delicate, so sweet. “I wasn’t planning on it, y/n.” His voice was wrapped in honey. ‘I wish I knew him outside of this’ pops into your head, but you quickly shake that thought away.
“Your voice is really sexy.” The burst of confidence makes your heart rate pick up. “Oh yeah?” His tone now cocky, you couldn’t help the movement of your right hand making its way into your little sleep shorts. “Mmhm, it is.” The words come out breathy. “Well thank you, sweet girl.” He says. “Mmm.” Is all you let out as you begin to rub your clit over your cotton panties, you can feel the very prominent wet spot in the center. “What are you doing, baby?” The seductive voice on the other end asks. “I have my hand in my shorts, I-I’m rubbing myself.” You say shyly.
Eddie’s eating it up on the other side, your innocence for what you’re engaging in, is really turning him on, he hasn’t been this aroused by a caller in what seems like forever. “How bout you take your little shorts off? Get comfortable.” He suggests, you oblige by lifting your hips and pulling your panties and shorts down in one go, dropping them off the side of your bed. “Okay, they’re off.” The last thing you wanted from this call was to feel desperate, yet here you are completely and utterly desperate for this man, who you didn’t even know. “Good girl,” his tone getting even more salacious, “open your legs up wide for me, baby.” You couldn’t hold back the moan that bubbled out of your chest at his words, you’d never been talked to like this, it was sending you into an orbit and you began to wonder if he was really local to your area like the commercial said, what you would do to meet him in real life and have all these words whispered into your ear as he pounded into your pussy.
“You like that, baby? You wanna be my good girl?” As those words left his mouth, you began to sink a finger into your drenched hole. “Fuck yes, I wanna be your good girl, please?” You beg as your lower lip slightly puckers. “Listen to you baby, you’re a natural.” He says with a chuckle, “such pretty little noises. You’re makin’ my dick hard, sweet thing.” He growls, “mmm, am I really?” You’re continuing the assault on your pussy, pushing your finger all the way in to the second knuckle, but you need more so you add another. “I told you baby, I’m not faking it with you, you make the sexiest sounds I’ve ever heard, fuck!” He groans, you hear shuffling going on in the background. After adding the second finger you’re now letting out little sounds of “uh, uh” and “ah”. You can hear slick, wet sounds coming from him, “If I was there with you right now, what would you want me to do to you, baby?” He sounds breathless. “I would have your fingers inside of me, instead of mine. They’re too small.” You whine with a pout. “I would love to finger fuck you, baby.” He groans, “would you let me eat your pussy?” He sounds so needy, needy for you and it’s turning you on even more, if that’s possible. “I’ve never had anyone do that before.” You timidly say, “no? Well fuck now I wanna be the first guy to eat your pussy, make you feel so fucking good! I’d make you forget what your name was, after I’m done.” His breathing continues to pick up.
“Oh you’re cocky.” You giggle but it’s cut off by a guttural moan you let out after you take the wetness from your hole and begin rubbing your clit. “Fuck,” he moans before continuing. “I have a good reason to be.” He says with a heavy sigh. “Really? Why is that?” Your ministrations have picked up as the knot in your belly begins to tighten, “if you saw my dick in person you’d understand.” He chuckles, “describe it to me, Eddie.” You know the description is going to be what sends you over the edge. “It’s about 8 inches, cut and thick.” Your legs start shaking as you tense up your body, “keep going, omg please keep going.” You squeak. He laughs before he continues, “It’s so fucking hard right now, the tip is so red and I’m already leaking precum, baby.” The picture in your head is so vivid, god what you would do to be able to suck it, or bounce on it. “Eddie, fuck! It sounds so pretty.” The knot is wrapped so tight and your body is unbelievably tense. “Spit on it for me, baby and pretend it’s me on my knees, sucking your cock.” You were full of confidence now that you were on the verge of an earth shattering orgasm, “fuck, I’m the one suppose to be talking to you like that, but holy shit sweet thing, you’re about to make me cum. Are you close?” You debate on lying and edging yourself, you don’t want this phone call to end, but you can’t you’re already there and fuck does it feel amazing. “I’m cumming! Oh my god Eddie, I’m cumming!” You’ve never been a loud person in bed but you’ve also never been this turned on. If that says anything about your ex, then maybe you should be more appreciative that it ended.
“Fuck, I’m cumming too, baby!” You hear the slick noises get faster as Eddie’s moans get louder, as the crescendo of his orgasm crashes over him and now all you hear is the loud breathing of you both, coming down from your highs. “You still there?” He asks, after inhaling and exhaling a particularly deep breath. “Yeah, I’m still here.” You didn’t want this call to get awkward, you should probably just thank him for his time and hang up. “Do you wanna keep talking or are you good for the night?” His cocky laugh makes you playfully roll your eyes. “Well maybe I can call again, sometime?” You get up and slip your panties and shorts back onto your lower half. “Yeah baby, you can call whenever you like.” You can hear his smile, even though you can’t see it, but god you wish you could see it. “So if I were to call, say tomorrow same time, would you answer?” You ask nervously, “Well, I’m not supposed to do this and I never have, but I do have an extension number you can reach me on after dialing this one, if the line is busy then just hang up and try again until I answer, does that work?” You nod before remembering he can’t see you, “y-yeah, that works. What is it?” You dig in your side drawer pulling out an old receipt and pen, “it’s extension #045.” You scribble it down before throwing the pen back in the drawer, “okay, sounds good. You have a goodnight Eddie.” There was a giddiness to your tone, you hoped he didn’t pick up on. “Goodnight, baby. I’ll talk to you later?” He questioned, “yes, talk to you later.” You hang up and stand from your bed walking over to your mirror, sticking the number on one of the open spaces between the mirror and the wood encasing it.
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You didn’t call Eddie until four days later, you were swamped with work and when you’d get home you were absolutely exhausted, you also didn’t wanna seem too eager so you were grateful work took up some of your time. But today was your day off and your plan was to stay home and talk to Eddie, maybe it’s stupid to spend your time talking to a phone sex operator but you can’t deny, he made you feel things you never have before.
When the clock hit 7:30pm you punched the number and the extension into the phone, to your disappointment it was busy, so you hung up and decided to occupy yourself for a little bit. After about 20 minutes you called back, Eddie almost immediately answered.
“Hello, thank you for calling dial-a-thrill, what’s your name?” You smile at the sound of his voice.
“Eddie, it’s y/n.” You were afraid the next time you called you’d feel as nervous as the last time, but luckily you had some sort of confidence this time round.
“Fuck, thank god! I had some real weirdos today.” He snorts “I haven’t heard from you, thought you wouldn’t end up calling back.” You could hear the disappointment in his voice. Wow, did he actually want to talk to you? A part of you thought he wouldn’t even remember you the next time you called, but here he is basically telling you he waited for your call, he thought about you. The thought made your cheeks rosy and made a warmth descend over your body.
“I’m sorry, I was really busy with work, and honestly way too exhausted, but luckily I didn’t have to go in today, so..” you trail off before he interrupts. “You don’t have to be sorry, baby. Guess I was just excited to hear from you.” Your eyes slightly widen at his words, excited to hear from me? You silently asked yourself. “Yeah, right. How many women call in and hear that?” You cackled at your words, but Eddie stayed silent. “I actually don’t tell anyone that, just like I’ve never given out my direct extension.” He takes a deep breath, “look, I’m sure you have your thoughts about me considering what my job is, but when I speak to other women it’s about sex and that’s it, for me and them. They don’t care if they’re talking to me or some other guy, I-I know this is weird, given this is our second time talking on the phone, but I really felt this connection with you I’ve never felt, talking to anyone else.” Your stomach fills with butterflies, you knew you felt something, you just didn’t expect him to feel it too. You couldn’t help but do a little giddy dance at his words, you felt like you were dreaming. You’ve been pining over this man for days, unable to get him out of your mind and you don’t even know what he looks like, you only have his voice and personality to go based on and somehow that makes the connection feel deeper. “Hey, um are you really local to Indianapolis?” You sheepishly ask. “I actually live in Hawkins, so kind of.” He says, but his next words catch you totally off guard, “would you like to maybe meet up sometime?”
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Thank you for reading!
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twice-inamillion · 9 months
Text
The Company
Taeyeon and IU’s Plan 
Smut and Story Building (Sex, Deep Penetration, Defloration, Creampie, Fingering, Blowjob) 
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Chapter 3
4,315 Words
(IU finds out that Taeyeon has been looking through her phone that filled with her sexual experiences with her boss. Taeyeon is convinced by IU to get a taste and comes up with a plan. Taeyeon gets more than what she can handle. OC gets a little surprised but is more than happy to accept it.) 
A few weeks pass, and every time Taeyeon stays at IU’s apartment, she notices hints of your sexual relationship with IU. Anything like cum covered panties, cummed covered skirts and marks on IU’s thighs and chest. 
She can’t hold on any longer; she needs to confront her friend about the type of relationship the two of you have. Taeyeon tries to find the looks for the best moment to talk to her about this. 
“I’m going to ask her today; I can’t wait anymore. It’s awkward every time I see the two of them together.” 
Taeyeon arrives earlier than usual and prepares dinner for the both of them, “Some pasta would be nice and easy to do. She changes into some comfortable clothes and gathers all the necessary items to make the meal. 
“Taeyeon, I’m home.”
“Welcome back. I made dinner for us.”
“Aww, that’s nice of you. Let me change.”
“Okay, I’ll set the dinner table.”
Taeyeon sets the dinner table and waits for IU to take a seat before serving her. “What’s the special occasion?”
“Nothing much. I just got tired of ordering takeout and wanted to make something homemade.”
“Haha, you should do this more often.”
“I’ll try, only when I’m done early. Anyways, how was your day? Don’t think we have talked comfortably in the past few days.”
“Hmm… nothing much. Just the same old thing. You know, helping with ranking the trainees, setting up meetings, and doing my duties as the CEO’s assistant.”
“What kind of duties do you have?”
“Just busy stuff like going over his daily and weekly schedule, setting up his meetings, sometimes bringing him his meals or some do simple tasks.”
“Seems like he has you overworking yourself.”
“Ah, no, that’s not true. He also has Irene as the secondary assistant. We share the tasks here and there. It's not that bad, actually, once you get used to it. But there are times when it does get busy, and I come home tired.”
“Is he nice to you?”
“He can be a bit tough, but he treats me nice. He asks how I’m doing, buys me nice things like jewelry, and gives me spending money.”
“Seems like the two of you have more than a boss-and-employee relationship.”
IU smiles and tries to play it off, but Taeyeon teases her, “Omg, are you and your boss something?” IU can’t help but grin, causing Taeyeon to push deeper, “I kind of figured the two of you were a thing. Is it actually a thing or work sex?”
“Haha, why do you want to know? Are you perhaps interested?”
“No! I just wanted to ask since you have been acting a bit differently.” 
“Hmm.. okay. I’ll tell you, but don’t tell anyone else, okay?”
Taeyon is now completely invested in finding out their relationship and eagerly nods, “Yeah, I won’t tell anyone.”
“Okay, remember how I told you that my family has financial issues?”
“Yeah, of course. You said that your family was struggling really back, especially your mom.”
“I wanted to help her somehow, so I contacted some people and became his personal assistant. This meant I had to service him at the workplace and him “personally.” I knew it was bound to happen and did it for my mother’s sake. So I had my first time with him. I thought I would hate him, but he’s really caring. He and I aren’t dating; it’s just a work relationship. I’ve been with him for a bit over a year and learned that it’s better to take the initiative and serve him than for him to act on it. If he has to ask for it when he might fuck you based on his mood, and trust me, that might be a bit dangerous. So I learned to read his mood and service him.”
“Oh wow. I didn’t know it was that serious.”
“The pay is really good, and the benefits are much better. This is one of the reasons why I have this apartment, and my mom is living in a nice house.”
Taeyeon hesitants but asks, “By the way, how far have you gone? Like, what do you do?”
“Well… the first few times, it was just regular sex, then it was a handjob and blow job. As time kept going, we would do more stuff, like me giving him head in his office or having sex in there too.”
“Have you two done anal?”
“Ahh, I haven’t, but he’s done it with someone else.” 
“Who?”
“Irene, his other assistant.”
“He fucks her too?”
“Yeah, and let me tell you this. Their relationship is much different than mine. She didn’t want to service him and learned the hard way. Anyways, are you interested?”
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t try to hide it, Taeyeon. I know you looked through my panties in my hamper and went through my phone.” 
Taeyeon panics and lies, “No, I didn’t do that.” 
“Don’t lie, that phone is something that he gave me. It screen records every time someone tries to log in. So I know that you’ve been looking at my videos of him fucking me.”
Taeyeon panics, and it shows. IU reads Taeyeon like a book and teases her by asking, “Are you interested in him?”
“Ahh, no! I’m just interested.”
“Lies, I’ve heard your moaning during the night. I know that you’re sexually interested and frustrated.”
“No, you’re wrong.” 
“I mean, if you are, and I know you are. It will make my job easier. There are so many things I have to do, and if he’s busy with you, then that means I have to spend less time servicing him. What do you think?”
“Umm… I don’t know.”
“I’ll even help you. I’ll tell you the best time and even get him a bit tipsy for you, haha.”
“You’ll help me?”
“Yeah, you’re my friend. It’s not like I have anything to lose. Look, I’ll even show you some pictures from today,” as IU pulls out her phone and shows Taeyeon a video of you getting your cock sucked and you cumming in her mouth and face. IU notices Taeyeon slide her hand between her legs and rubs herself under the table, “Don’t tell me you don’t see yourself being in my place. Just imagine his hot cum on your face and going down your throat.”
“Hmm… you said you’ll help me, right?”
“Yeah, I’ll take care of everything. You just got to follow my advice, and you’ll be good.”
“Okay, I’ll do it,” causing IU to smile.
————
“Is that the last schedule for the day?”
“Yes, sir. You’re done for the day. Are you planning on dining out?”
“No, I just want to go home and rest. This was a busy and long weekend; I wanted to have a drink and relax. I’ll probably go out tomorrow.”
“Would you still like me to service you later tonight?”
“Hmm… actually, how about we share a drink?”
“It would be my pleasure, sir.”
You gather all your belongings and head to your apartment with IU. The two of you wait for the elevator and can’t help but notice the large height difference between the both of you, almost a foot apart. The elevator door slides open, and the two of you enter and scan your keycard to the top floor. 
Arriving at the top floor, you walk down a long hallway towards the single, large door on the floor and insert your code to enter, “Finally, back home.” The two of you take your shoes off, leave your items on the table by the hallway, and sit on the large couch. 
“Would you like me to serve you the usual?”
“Yes, please.”
IU heads towards the kitchen and to the alcohol cabinet and grabs a bottle and two glass cups. She pours the both of you a drink and walks back. “Here you, sir.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I like your initiative, Ji-eun. You’ve become a reliable assistant.”
“No, thank you, sir. For the opportunity to serve you and the help to my family.”
“Ahh, yes. How’s your mother doing?”
“She’s doing well, thanks to your generosity.”
“No need to thank me; it’s all due to your hard work.”
IU grabs the bottle once more and pours another drink as you enjoy the view from the top floor of the building. Watching the sunset is one of your favorite things after coming home from a long day. 
“Would you like me to order you takeout, sir?”
“Sure, that’d be great.”
“What would you like?”
“You can choose.”
“Okay, I’ll place an order.”
You place your drink down and change into something more comfortable while waiting for the food to arrive. IU sets the table, cleans a bit of the living room, and places your items where they belong. “Would you like another drink?”
“Yeah, I could go for another one.”
She serves you another drink, and you take small sips as you continue to enjoy the view from your living room couch. You and IU have a small conversation about some of the schedule for next week and about the process of the trainees when IU’s phone pings. “Sorry, sir. It’s the delivery person; I’m going to go down to the lobby and meet them. I’ll be right back.”
“Okay, sounds good.”
You walk to the kitchen, open the fridge door, and grab a couple of beers for the meal. You wait for IU to arrive and check your messages. When you hear the door ring go off, signaling that IU was coming inside. 
“Sir, I’m back.”
“Nice, I grabbed a couple of beers for the two of us.”
“Sir, I met Taeyeon in the lobby and asked her to join us. Would that be okay with you, sir?”
“Yeah, that’s fine.”
“She’ll be coming up in a few. She just went to get changed.”
“Okay, let's get the table ready for three.”
After a few minutes, the doorbell rings, and IU opens the door for Taeyeon. “Hello, sir. Thank you for allowing me into your house.”
“It’s no problem; you’re welcome anytime; come take a seat.” 
Taeyeon sits on the couch across from you," Would you like a beer?”
“Yes, I’ll take one.” he grabs a beer and opens it. She crosses her legs, and you catch a glimpse of her not wearing any panties. You try not to look at it, but you can’t help but admire her thighs. 
“The pizza is ready.”
“Thanks; actually, do you think it would be better to eat here in the living room since it’s pizza?”
“We could do that,” says IU.
“I’ll help you, Ji-eun,” standing up and helping bring the plates to the living room table. 
With everyone sitting down, you all grab a slice of pizza and a beer and start to eat. You ask Taeyeon about her week and if she’s comfortable as the vocal coach. 
“I like it here; the place is beautiful, the staff is nice, and the trainees are very hardworking.” 
“That’s good to hear. Better than SM, huh.”
“Haha, yeah, it is,” she laughs.
IU mentions that she’s been hearing positive feedback from the trainees ever since she started and congratulated her on a good job. Taeyeon smiles and puts her feet on the couch, giving you a better view of her private area. 
You try not to look, but you can’t help your curiosity and eye her every time she moves her legs. IU notices this and asks, " Taeyeon, would you mind passing me a napkin?”
“Sure,” and she reaches for the napkin, allowing you to get a glimpse of her cleavage under the oversized shirt. IU looks at you and smiles, knowing that the plan is working.
“Like what you, sir?”
You turn around to IU, “What do you mean?”
“I asked if you liked what you saw.”
You see IU’s smile and turn to Taeyeon and see her smile. “What’s going on?”
IU says, “What do you think, sir? She wants you.”
“Is that true?”
“What do you think? I wouldn’t give a show to just anyone,” says Taeyeon.
“Hmm… So the both of you planned this.”
“You catch on quick, sir.”
“Okay, I’ll play your game. Taeyeon, you must be aware of the type of relationship I have with Ji-eun, right?”
“Yes, I’m aware.”
“And you’re fine with that?”
“Yeah, I am.”
Calling her bluff, you stand up, walk towards her, and extend your hand. “Alight, since you want to play, we can go right now.”
“R…right now?” looking at IU, who only smiles.
Knowing what will happen, she takes your hand and follows your lead to one of the bedrooms. The both of you hear a small chuckle from IU, and her saying, “Have fun,” before you close the door.
“You want to play? Let's see if you’re game,” and sit on the one-seater coach in the room. 
Taeyeon stands there, confused about what you mean. “Strip.”
Taeyeon is caught off guard by your command and hesitates. You repeat it once more, “Strip.” Understanding you’re serious; she stands before you crosses her arms, and removes her oversized shirt and then her loose, small shorts. 
In front of you is a completely nude Taeyeon. She has small breasts and a clean, shaven cunt. Without saying a word, you scan her body, from her feet to her head. She turns around and gives you a view of her behind, “Amazing. I can’t believe a member from Girls Generation is standing in front of me, nude.”
You signal her to approach you and say, “Come over here.” You grab both her hands and her right in front of you. You lick your index and middle finger and rub her lower lips. She moans at the sudden touch of your warm fingers against her cold skin. Using your two fingers, you trace and swirl the outside of her lips until you feel her moist. 
You remove your fingers, pull her towards you, and pick her up. She suddenly yelps from being picked up and notices you walking towards the bed. You toss her onto the bed and watch her reaction as you spread her legs wide open, giving you an embarrassed look. She tries to cover her pussy, to which you tease her and say, “I guess you’re all talk and no game,” giving her a smirk. She gets offended and removes her hands out of pride, responding, “I’m not all talk; I can back it up, too.”
“You’re sure about that?”
“Yeah, I am.”
“I’ll give you one last chance to back out.”
“Don’t need it, I can play along.”
“Alright. Let’s play.” 
You remove your shirt and shorts and toss it to the couch. Taeyeon’s heart begins to race as she’s focused on your boxers and sees you pull them down, revealing your semi-hard cock. You pull her towards you and her folds once you say, “You have a really nice pussy right here.”
“You think so?”
“Yeah. I can’t wait to fuck you,” grabbing your cock and pressing it against her lower lips. She pushes your cock away and says, “Wait, you’re not going to wear a condom?”
You stop and are surprised by the most ridiculous question and reply, “What do you mean a condom? I only fuck, raw. Why? You don’t want to?”
No, I was just wondering. I heard that it’s important to wear a condom.”
“I check myself regularly, so I’m good. Are you?”
“No, I’m good.”
“Okay, then we’re all good to continue, right?”
“Yeah,” turning her head around and thinking of all the possibilities of fucking without a condom. 
You grab your cock with your right hand and give it a few pumps and press it against her lower lips. You look at Taeyeon and see her face of anticipation, waiting for your next move. With your hardened cock against her entrance, you smack it against her folds right before inserting yourself inside of her. 
Taeyeon groans from the pain of your cock making its way through her tight walls. “Fuck… you’re so tight!” as you shove more of your cock inside her. Due to the pain, Taeyeon grabs onto the bedsheets with all her might. 
Suddenly, Taeyeon screams when you shove your whole length inside of her in one go. “Wait…Wait… pull out, pull out, you’re breaking me!”
Seeing her in pain, you pull out your cock, and caress her cheek, “Are you okay?” Taeyeon replies, “You’re too big; I thought it was going to die. Give me some time to get myself together.”
‘Wait… don’t tell me” as you look down and look at the tip of your cock covered in a thin layer of red. 
She nods her head in tears and says, “Yeah, it’s my first time.” You’re surprised by her comment and would have never known that this would be her first time, but the idea of being her first man makes you hard again. 
You grab a tissue, get yourself cleaned, and reassure Taeyeon that you’ll make it pleasurable. She nods and wipes the tears off her face before you move on to insert yourself once more. 
With your cock at the entrance of her, slowly insert your length; Taeyeon groans from the slight pain in her walls and begins to stretch to their limits, “Ow… you’re still too big.” You get on the bed, get on top of her, and begin to kiss her neck and play with her breast as you move inside of her. 
Taeyeon slowly forgets about the pain and focuses on the pleasure of your kissing and her tits, “Hmm, yeah… that feels good, don’t stop.” You move towards her breast and take her nipple into your mouth as you play with the other. She continues to moan and let free of her nipple and continue to thrust your cock.
Taeyeon wraps her arms around your neck now that she’s comfortable with your length. You increase the pace of your thrusting, causing her to moan and even laugh, “I can’t describe the feeling, but it feels so good!” 
“Just wait, it's going to feel better,” as you place her into a mating press. With her legs pushed back, you do a strong thrust, each other’s pelvis smacking against each other. “How do you like that? Can you feel it deep inside you?”
“Ahh.. yeah, I can feel the difference. My womb is taking the shape of your cock!” Her hands move towards her breast, pinching and twisting her nipples as she feels her orgasm coming. 
Seeing her pleasuring herself, you can’t help but tease her as you focus your focus on her clit. Taeyeon yelps, asking you to stop because she can feel an overwhelming feeling approaching.
Instead, you place it between your thumb and your index finger and give it a nice pinch. This causes Taeyeon to instantly cum, as you feel a rush of fluid covering your cock. You pull out and enjoy the scene of her orgasm as her body violently shakes. You watch as she rides her orgasm and decide to tease her, so you insert your middle finger and begin to thrust inside her cunt. “Don’t… don’t do that, you’re going to make me come! Stop!” It didn’t take her long for her to reach her second orgasm. “Ahh, fuck! I’m cumming!” as a gush of fluid sprays and her body spasms. 
“Wow, I didn’t have to do much. Seems like you don’t relieve yourself often, but that won’t be a problem now that I’m here. You’re going to be a good fucking with me, but now that you had your fun, it’s my turn.”
“Wait, what are you doing?”
“I need to get my fill too, you know.” 
“Please… wait,” not letting her finish her sentence as you insert your cock inside. She throws her head back and screams, “Oh fuck! You’re going to mess me up inside!” Her walls tighten around your cock, not used to having your massive length inside of it. 
“Your walls want to squeeze my cock, fuck you feel so tight.” You start to pump your cock inside her slippery walls, feeling all the grooves and crevices of her meaty flesh. 
You listen to the beautiful sound of Taeyeon’s moaning as you thrust inside of her for what feels like ten minutes. Taeyeon is a complete mess; her hair is ruined, and her body is all sweaty. The tipsy sensation has disappeared, and let her know that you’re about to reach your peak, “Fuck, I’m about to cum.”
“Wait… what did you say?”
“I said I’m about to cum. Where do you want it?”
Puzzled, she tries to come up with an answer, and it is taking longer than what you’re used to. Not wanting to hold it in any longer, you decide where you want to bust your load. Feeling the weird feeling of your cock throbbing your cock she says, “Outside, do it outside,” but it's too late.
The amount of time she wastes on deciding, you end up making the choice for her. You pull your cock out and do one last thrust when you hear her say she wants you to cum outside. Instead, all she hears is, “Fuck! I’m cumming!” Her eyes widen when she hears your comment, and she is bombarded with a large wave of cum flooding her womb. 
She cries, “So hot! Pull out!” That only makes you want to shove your cock in deep and paint her womb white. 
After finishing your orgasm, you notice Taeyeon looking at her bulging belly, filled with your load. You pull out and watch as she presses her fingers on her stomach, causing a large amount of cum to ooze out. “I told you to do it outside.”
“You took too long, so I made a choice. Plus, I normally cum inside of my girls, so there shouldn’t be an issue, right?”
“But I’m not one of your girls. I’m not IU or Irene.”
“Yeah, you’re right. You are not them, but since you took my hand, you’re mine now.” 
“You don’t own me.”
“Haha, says the person with the cum of their boss inside of her.”
She sees your smirk and realizes that you’re right; she does have her belly full of your cum right now. “Don’t smirk.”
“You know, I’m right. How about another round?”
“Another round?”
“Yeah, I mean, if you’re up for it.”
Taeyeon’s pride doesn’t let her back down; she wants to wipe that grin off your face, even if it means going another round. She looks down at you and notices your hardened cock. “Alright, I can do another round.”
“Haha, alright. Let's change the scenery,” as you extend your hand. She takes your hand, and you walk her to the balcony. She looked down and saw the campus and trainees walking in groups back to their dorms after a long Friday night. 
You kiss her nape, which causes her to shiver, and her nipples harden. “Put your hands against the railing.” 
“Why?”
“Don’t worry. Just let me lead, and enjoy.”
“Okay.”
You raise her right leg up in the air, and with your left hand, you position your cock to her entrance. “What are you do… ahhh” as she feels your cock penetrating her cunt once more. The both of you spend the whole night fucking throughout the penthouse, the balcony, living room, kitchen, and shower. Every time you move locations, you make sure to make the two of you get to orgasm. 
————-
Taeyeon wakes up on the bed, looks around, and notices you are gone. She gets up and looks at the many stains throughout the bed, which makes her remember the night she had. She takes a cold shower to wash the stains of fluid on her body, “Ugh… I feel so full.” She presses her stomach and notices a white cream liquid oozing out of her. Pressing her belly harder, a gush of cum squirts out, covering the shower floor cum, “Fuck…that’s too much.” 
After her shower, she changed into her clothes and walked out to see you in the living room, reading a newspaper. She walks towards you, “Good morning,” to which you reply, Good Morning, Taeyeon.”
As she walks towards the kitchen, she turns around to ask if she could grab something to eat when she sees IU on her knees. “Ji-eun! What are you doing?” 
IU turns around with a smile on her face and replies, “Good Morning, Unnie. I made breakfast, by the way.” 
“Why are you going down on him?”
“Oh, I’m having breakfast too. Want some?” as she holds your cock in her hand. 
“No!”
“Come on, it's good.”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
She looks at her friend’s satisfied face and remembers the videos she has masturbated to before. She looks at you and back at her, giving her a reply.
You woke up this Saturday morning full of energy. After going on a run early in the morning, you return and enjoy the breakfast your assistant, IU, made for you. You give her a treat as a reward for a job well done. 
You turn, you’re done reading your newspaper, set it on the table, and enjoy the sight in front of you. “It’s nice to see two friends sharing a meal together,” you say with a slight grin.
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fangirl-dot-com · 7 months
Text
Chapter 25 - Release the Ice Bath Thirst Traps
Ok guys! here we go!
TAG LIST IS CLOSED (sorry for those who have asked)
For the very end of the chapter, there's something I made up for Singapore (this fact is made up just for the story)
Like always comments, questions, concerns, inbox messages, reblogs, and likes are appreciated! Love you all and enjoy :D
The moment you stepped out of the cool, airconditioned car, your team shirt suddenly clung to you. Beads of sweat dripped from your forehead as you made your way through the paddock. Max had warned you that Singapore and Qatar would be impossibly hot: you just didn’t think it’d be this bad. 
All you wanted to do now was go back to the hotel where it was ice cold. You wiped your brow with your forearm as you got closer to the garage. Giant fans welcomed you with air. It wasn’t freezing cold, but it would do. You were already on your third water today, smartly forgoing the Red Bull that was bound to make you dehydrated. 
You stood next to Max as the team had a quick debrief. The heat was definitely getting to you, as you really couldn’t remember a word that anyone said. You blink your eyes as they were burning with sweat. Your older teammate could only offer you a remorseful smile. 
Max could see that the heat wasn’t going too well with you. You had told him beforehand that some females, including you, just couldn’t regulate their temperatures as well as males could. Women often gave off more body heat than men did as well. This caused the Dutchman to send out a group text, warning the other drivers to look out for you. 
You groaned as you tried to put on your fireproofs and race suit. The more you moved around, the more you seemed to sweat. You kept your suit tied around your waist. You definitely wouldn’t be putting it on until you had to be in the car.
Max was already zipped up by the time you returned. 
“Here.” He handed you another ice cold water bottle. 
“Thank you Max,” you croaked out, making the Dutchman look a little weary at you. You just smiled back. 
“Once we qualify, we can go to the ice baths.” 
Max would have thought that you would hate the idea since you always showered with the water at a boiling temperature. Yet, he could see that you were slightly “warming up” to the idea of a bath full of ice (pun intended). 
From the corner, Mitch watched as you poured the remainder of your water on your head. She had requested a few ice packs to be ready for you when you arrived, but sadly they weren’t completely frozen. She’d make sure that you’d have them for tomorrow. 
Surprisingly, your laps were great with you qualifying in P3, behind Charles once again. Halfway through, you had opened your visor, trying to get some air through your sweaty helmet. Your water pouch had to be refilled multiple times between sessions. Yet, your trainer advised you to try not to drink so much during the race, as they wouldn’t be able to refill. 
Mitch had come over to your car as soon as you were back in. You gave her a big smile as you started to get out of the car. 
“How are you doing kid?” 
You took a moment to look at her outfit. Where a pantsuit should have been, there was a Red Bull Tank top and some very loose pants. You were jealous that she got to wear those while you were stuck with skin tight clothes. 
You gasped a bit for some cooler air once your helmet was off. 
“I’m good. Max said something about an ice bath?” 
Your eyes were faintly glimmering with hope for something to cool you down. Mitch smiled at you. 
“Yep. I put a change of clothes on your bed, but I think you need some help?” 
You nodded at her question before heading to your room. You didn’t want to waste any time getting out of your suit. 
The zipper came off smoothly. Mitch definitely saw that you had sweated through your fireproofs and felt terrible. Surely, there was something that the team could do. 
You giggled. “I’ve probably already lost a few pounds.” 
Mitch rolled her eyes at the terrible joke. If anything, there was truth in that statement. She had seen the numbers after you got weighed and you had lost a lot. 
“Well, there will be lots of food for you to fill up on.” 
“I hope we’re not going to go over the catering budget again.” 
Mitch let out a snort as she helped you out of the sticky fire proofs. She pulled out a bag and handed it to you. You grinned at the sight of the limited clothes in the bag. 
“I didn’t think that you’d want to go out in full bikini, so there’s a sports bra and some spandex shorts. I’ll wait for you by your door and will walk you to the back.” 
Once Mitch left, you quickly peeled the rest of your clothes off. The sports bra and spandex were all black, and covered everything that needed to be. You said a quick thank you to her in your mind as you got dressed. Your skin was definitely cooler with no clothes to stick to, but you were still sweating. 
You swung the door open. 
“Ready to go?” you asked, giving her the bag back with your other clothes. They would definitely need to be washed by tomorrow. 
You followed the woman to the back, going through multiple doors. Once she opened the door to the little outside area, your eyes landed on Max, who was already soaking. His eyes were closed as he leaned his head back on the tub. 
Yours was a bit more like a giant trough, filled to the brim with ice. 
Mitch spoke as you got closer. “We thought that you’d need more ice, hence why yours is bigger. It’s also more insulated with the metal than the plastic. Do not stay in more than 15 minutes. We don’t need your temperature dropping too much.” 
You tossed your foot over and gingerly place a toe in, just to get a feel for it. The temperature was perfect and you found yourself sinking into the ice. 
“You think it’s ok if I dunk my head?” you asked Max. 
He didn’t even bother to open his eyes. 
“Go for it kid.” 
You held your breath as you sunk below the ice layer. Your brain went a bit fuzzy as the freezing water went over your scalp. You let your eyes open under the water, just to feel the cold and relieve the stinging. 
Once you came up gasping for air, Max finally looked over. 
“Had fun?” He laughed a bit. 
You lovingly flipped him off. Your hands came and brushed your hair back. You looked over at Max’s plastic pool, and saw ducks in his. You pouted once you realized that you didn’t have any. 
“What’s wrong kid?” the Dutchman asked at the sight of your pout. 
You murmured, “I didn’t get any ducks.” 
Max rolled his eyes before gently throwing one of his ducks into your pool. Your eyes immediately lit up as you began to play with it. Max just watched as you found so much joy in something so little. You felt his gaze and you guessed that you needed to say something. 
“I never had a rubber duck growing up. It’s so cute.” 
You held the little yellow thing in your hands, right in front of your face. Max had a sad smile as he watched. 
“You have plans for after the race?” 
You sighed as you let the duck rest on the water, not breaking the surface tension. 
“Logan, Oscar, and Lando wanted to go see the city and I said I’d join them. Something about needing a good drive around Singapore.” 
Max snorted. Of course the group of three would want to invite you. The door opened, which had the two of you whip your heads to it. 
“Oh, hey David,” you greeted the photographer. You sank back into the ice, still enjoying the cold. Max groaned when he realized what David was there for. 
You smirked as you looked over at your teammate. “Ready to do some thirst traps Max?” 
The Dutchman rolled his eyes. “Let’s leave that for Ferrari and Lando.” 
You giggled at the statement. “Yeah, I would rather not show much on screen. Taken woman and all.” 
That time, Max laughed. 
David looked apologetic. “Just need to get some pictures. Trust me, this isn’t my favorite.” 
He took some pictures while you and Max tried to look as non-sexy as possibly. You definitely tried to sneak some goofy facial expressions in. You kept your whole body submerged and thankfully the ice kept anyone from seeing much below your neck. David quickly thanked the two of you for your time before leaving. 
“Instagram is going to have a field with those.” 
redbullracing has posted
Tumblr media
redbullracing splish, splash - racers in the ice baths
liked by arthur_leclerc, y/n.nation, rookie&maxie, landonorris, and 846,294 others
redbullfan what the heck is this?? this was not the thirst traps we wanted
maximillian he's giving "moto-moto likes you"
y/n.nation everyone is focused on the lack of thirst-traps, I'm just focused on the amount of ducks that Red Bull has
oscarpiastri what are your duck's names?
landonorris probably can't top cold, as, and fuck y/n.89 max's is James Pond and mine is Duck Norris landonorris my son?? y/n.89 no - something american so you won't understand logansargeant DUCK NORRIS RAWWRRRRR
rookie&co BOOOOOO TOMATOES TOMATOES TOMATOES
f1fan I know admin is hiding the thirst traps
charles_leclerc no thirst traps?
maxverstappen1 we leave that to you and the Spaniard y/n.89 I mean, I could be sexy if I wanted carlossainz55 sure chica, sure y/n.89 who is single? and who is taken maxverstappen1 HA
iamred_iamyellow ducks, ducks, ducks, ducks
You snorted at the Dutchman’s bluntness. 
The timer on the wall signaled that it was time to get out. You let out a giant groan as you stood and climbed over. 
Mitch came in with two big towels. One for you and one for Max. Your skin was finally covered with goosebumps instead of sweat. You quickly had an idea as you walked back to put normal clothes on. 
“You think I could dunk my head in before I get in the car? I think my wet hair will keep my head cooler if I do. It’s something about heat escaping through your scalp when you overheat. If it’s covered by my balaclava and my helmet, it can’t escape.” 
Mitch finished your thought process. 
“So if you wet your hair, your scalp can be cooler longer.” 
You nodded before heading into your room. 
“Ah, Max wanted me to hand this to you.” 
It was a normal Red Bull polo, which made your brows pinch in confusion. But, you shrugged and took it anyways. 
However, once you started changing you realized that the shirt was almost three sizes too big. Yet, you grinned as you put it on. Since it was oversized, it wasn’t sticking to your skin as you started to sweat a little. 
The crew laughed a bit at the sight of the giant shirt almost swallowing you. But, you didn’t care about that. You were significantly cooler and you could follow the last debrief of the day. 
Sunday night came and went super-fast, and you were thankful this time around. You were definitely more cool that you had been for qualifying. Mitch had sent the ice vest to you early, so you didn’t start off too warm. With your hair being dunked in ice water, your head was cooler during the race. The little bit of breeze that you got helped as well. 
That bit really helped you stay focused as you gained another podium. Surprisingly, this was Max’s first time winning in Singapore. Adrian really made sure that the car could keep up with the street race and not end it like 2023. Charles came in a very close second. 
Charles and Max poured their champagne bottles onto your overheating body. Halfway through you needed to sit down. Your body was slowly becoming even more dehydrated and hot as the minutes passed by. You were kind of held by Max as the three of you left the podium. 
The Dutchman had a worried grip on your bicep as he held you upright. He needed to get you some water, quickly. You thankfully weren’t on the verge of passing out, but he knew you were thirsty. He heard your radio toward the end where you were just begging for a drink. Max couldn’t imagine being without water, but he normally didn’t drink as much while racing. 
He gently set you on a seat in the garage, before turning away to get some things. Your eyes were closed as you sat right under a fan. Max soon returned with a cooling towel and three bottles of water.
The cold of the towel made your eyes open as he put it on your neck. Your race suit was tied around your waist and your fireproof shift had been swapped for a thin, random oversized shirt. Max gently cooed as you leaned into the cold water bottle on your face. 
“There you go,” he whispered as you finally were able to take big gulps of water. He unscrewed one of the other bottles before he lightly tipped it over your head. Streams of water ran down your face as you finished off the water bottle. 
The team was glancing at the two of you. In the back of their minds, they were worried about how you’d react to Qatar, which was way worse. However, they held on to some hope that it would be cooler than last year due to it being moved later on the race calendar. 
Your water bottle was on in moments. You flashed a smile at your worried teammate. 
“Thanks,” you gasped, trying to catch your breath after guzzling. 
Mitch came from the back with another woman who was holding a device. Mitch kneeled next to Max and put her hand on your knee. 
“Hey kid, we just want to make sure that you’re okay. Brianna here is going to take your blood pressure and other vitals just to be safe.” 
You only nodded and leaned your head against the wall. The medic made quick work and started to strap the device on. Max stood up and walked a bit away, just to give everyone some space. His eyes caught glimpses of orange, red, and blue and he could only guess who it was. He took one more glance at the situation before walking out of the garage. 
Logan, Charles, Lando, and Oscar were waiting patiently by the opening. They all looked up once they heard Max walk out, but deflated when they realized it wasn’t the Red Bull driver they were looking for. 
“Is she doing okay?” Charles asked first, concerning the other three boys. 
Lando put his arms out, stopping any conversation. 
“What does he mean by ‘is she doing ok?’ Where’s Y/n?” the Brits voice going more high pitched the more he started to panic. 
Max sighed. “She’s just having a hard time with the heat. She got super dehydrated this weekend and really couldn’t get over it.” 
He pointed a thumb over his shoulder. 
“They’re just checking vitals I think, to make sure everything is ok.” 
Logan sighed loudly in concern. He definitely knew what it was like, getting memories from Qatar 2023. 
The American asked, “Is she going to race in Qatar?” 
Max blinked slowly before answering. “She wants to. The team is really hoping that it’s going to be significantly cooler than last year. And they know to get her started on hydration much earlier. I talked to her physio and she thinks that Y/n’s diet also wasn’t right.” 
Oscar raised his eyebrows. “Diet?” 
Max nodded. “Yeah. She was apparently eating foods that might dehydrate the body, like lots of salt. Her physio said that she’ll start her on more fruits and water heavy foods way in advance. And drinks as well, more electrolytes.” 
Lando nodded in agreement. “I remember when I had to do that. They took away my chips for like….months.” 
They had been so into talking that they didn’t notice that you had walked out, now changed into shorter shorts and a bigger top (one that Charles strangely recognized as one of his brother’s shirts). 
“Are we ready to go?” you asked, getting closer. “Lando is driving because I am done for today.” 
The boys looked a bit guilty at your tired face. 
Oscar spoke up first. “We don’t have to go driving if you don’t want to. We know you’re probably tired.” 
You waved your hands and made a sound. “Nope, I’m good. Nothing will ever beat the one time I spent an entire summer on a farm in the middle of Texas.” 
You pretended to shiver at the thought, making the group laugh. 
Charles suddenly remembered why he was there in the first place (well, second because he was worried about you after the podium). He handed you a small bag. Opening it up, you saw a bright colored water bottle. You raised your eyebrow in question. 
The Monegasque smirked. “From you know how.” 
Your face practically melted at the loving gesture as you looked at it. Lando, Oscar, and Logan suddenly got the memo. 
Logan wrapped an arm around you first. “Aww such a sweet little boyfriend.” 
Oscar looked at Lando. 
“Where’s my water bottle?” he mocked whined, batting his eyelashes at the Brit. Your rolled your eyes. 
Lando put his arms around the Aussie. “Don’t worry love, it’s in the car.” 
The Brit puckered his lips before pretending to lean in. You just watched with an annoyed grin on your face. You looked at Max and Charles and winked, the Dutchman and Monegasque getting what you were about to do. You shrugged Logan’s arm off before taking a step toward your teammate. 
But, you purposefully made your knees buckle and fell into Max and Charles’s waiting arms. Lando and Oscar shut up quickly, before yelling that you needed help. Except that they heard your giggles as Max put you back on your feet. 
“I was just kidding.” 
The trio huffed. 
Logan murmured, “That was not funny.” 
Charles snorted. “Oh but it was. Should have seen your faces.” 
Your giggled died out before you asked, “Are we ready to go? I think I’ll melt if I stand out here for any longer.” 
Lando flicked your forehead. “We were just waiting on you.” 
The four of you said your goodbyes to Max and Charles before heading to the parking lot. Somehow, Logan got his hands on a Jeep to take the four of you somewhere. And, he was even able to get the top off. And because he claimed it was an all American brand, Logan begged Lando to let him drive it. Lando reluctantly handed over the keys. 
You claimed earlier that you needed shotgun, because “men can’t be passenger princesses.” Oscar and Lando tried to disagree. 
The breeze from outside in addition to the cool air-conditioning from the car was perfect. You let everyone have their turn with the aux, praying that they wouldn’t pick anything too embarrassing.  
Oscar ripped the phone out of your hands when Logan tried to request Free Bird again.
The Aussie sighed as the American whined. 
“We are not having another shirt ripped or a speeding ticket.” 
You laughed as Logan tried to hit Oscar in the back. At an empty road, Lando grabbed his camera. 
“Bug, put your head out the window real fast.” 
You did as suggested and smiled toward the camera that Lando was holding. 
Immediately you had a sense of déjà vu. Except this time, it was actual friends in the car and not just your manager. You thought back to how far you’ve come since the night before going to Milton. 
Lando laughed as he looked at the camera. 
He spoke, “This reminds me about the time that me and my friends were driving around and then this car pulled up next to ours. They were blasting What Makes You Beautiful and there was this girl in the front seat.” 
Your cheeks were becoming warm as Lando kept telling the story: that was definitely about you. Lando kept blabbing about the night. 
“And then the next morning, I got out of my hotel elevator and I think the same girl literally bulldozed me over. Didn’t say sorry or anything. I just thought it was funny, she seemed like she was in a rush.” 
Logan was laughing at the story, but got concerned at your flushed appearance and sudden quietness. 
“You alright champ? Do we need to get you some more water?” 
At the sound of the question, Lando and Oscar were leaning up, trying to look to see if you were going to actually pass out. Lando was already on his phone, trying to bring up Max’s contact to call just in case. 
However, you started laughing, making the trio at ease. You tried to cover your giggles with your mouth. You had this bright look in your eyes. 
“That was actually me Lando. Sorry about that.” 
Lando’s jaw dropped at the reveal. 
You gave a half shrug. “Arthur was waiting for me in my hotel room and I was excited to see him.” 
Logan’s and Oscar’s shoulders were shaking as they kept laughing at Lando’s facial expressions. The Brit huffed and crossed his arms, mouth formed into a pout. 
“You owe me a race win now.” 
“Excuse you?”
“You heard me.” 
“Uh, guys?” Logan asked, but you and Lando ignored him. 
“Get your own race win. You’ve done it before.” 
“Cause Max crashed out.” 
“That’s not true.” 
“Guys?” Oscar’s voice also sounded, worry in his tone. 
“Lando, it’s really not that hard. You just go around him.” 
“It’s a tractor versus a rocket ship. One cannot simply just go around.” 
“GUYS!” 
“What?” you and Lando yelled at the same time. Once the car was silent, you finally noticed that it had stopped moving. 
“Logan why aren’t you driving?” 
You looked at the American, who was slightly shaking while looking in the rearview mirror. Your eyes glanced at it, blue and red lights reflecting through the glass. You looked behind you and saw the source. 
“Ah shit.”
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y/n.89 has posted
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y/n.89 Alexa, play free bird by lynard skynard
liked by maxverstappen1, georgerussell63, redbullrocket, and 725,028 others
box_box_express oh thank goodness she's out
y/n.nation you think she jailbreaked?
georgerussell63 good to see that I don't need to pull up any power point presentations on why you four shouldn't go to jail
y/n.89 good to know that you have one ready? landonorris you think that we'd actually get arrested?? logansargeant oh yee of little faith oscarpiastri it was already ready???????
change_ur_f-car BAHAHAHAHAH I'M DEAD - ARRESTED RACE CAR DRIVERS FOR BEING IN A CAR
formulalala_delulu this whole race/day was a fever dream
christianhorner good to see you not in cuffs kid
y/n.89 good to not be in cuffs maxverstappen1 rookie arrest before I was y/n.89 HA I BEAT MAX VERSTAPPEN IN EQUAL MACHINERY landonorris oh that's not...ok
lestappenlove your honor I love them
Race Results
Max Verstappen - 25 points
Charles Leclerc - 18 points
Y/n L/n - 16 points (fastest lap)
Carlos Sainz - 12 points
Oscar Piastri - 10 points
Alex Albon - 8 points
Lando Norris - 6 points
Logan Sargeant - 4 points
Pierre Galsy - 2 points
Daniel Ricciardo - 1 point
Champions Standings
Max Verstappen - 334 points
Charles Leclerc - 304 points
Y/n L/n - 223 points
Lando Norris - 196 points
Carlos Sainz - 157 points
Oscar Piastri - 140 points
Lewis Hamilton - 113 points
Alex Albon - 70 points
George Russell - 65 points
Fernando Alonso - 45 points
Logan Sargeant - 44 points
Daniel Ricciardo - 26 points
Lance Stroll - 17 points
Pierre Gasly - 14 points
Valtteri Bottas - 13 points
Yuki Tusnuoda - 9 points
Zhou Guanyu - 1 point
Nico Hulkenberg
Kevin Magnussen
Esteban Ocon
Constructors Standings
Red Bull - 557 points
Ferrari - 461 points
McLaren - 336 points
Mercedes - 178 points
Williams - 114 points
Aston Martin - 62 points
Alpha Tauri - 35 point
Alpha Romeo - 14 points
Alpine - 14 points
Haas - 0 points
TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @glitterquadricorn @laura-naruto-fan1998 @treehouse-mouse @sam-is-lost @kagatinkita @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @myxticmoon @angsthology @cmleitora @fly-me-away @graciewrote @ashy-kit @slutofmultifandom @aexitizen-ln4 @sugarvibez @vellicora @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @33-81 @hoetel-manager @xcharlottemikaelsonx @jayda12 @ilove-tswizzle @justme2042 @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @stopeatread @cha-hot @sadg3 @iloveyou3000morgan @s4turnsl0ver @alessioayla @torchbearerkyle @leptitlu @awekbachira @shreks-sugar-daddy @v1naco @stan-josie @mellowarcadefun @badassturtle13 @beskardroids @callisposts @poppyalice2001 @juniper-july19 @lizzypiastri
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seventhemaverick · 10 months
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Astro Observations 🌱
Disclaimer: This is my first Astrology post! I tried to do this earlier this year but tumblr lagged and it deleted all of my hard work lol. But now I’ve gained the courage to give it another go! I’m not a professional astrologer. I just study it in depth when I have time. Still very much a beginner. Please be kind and if I’m misinformed let me know! If you want to repost my work please credit me. This also has personal opinions in here don’t take it too seriously babes!
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🌾 I don’t typically think Leo’s and Scorpios go together romantically BUT any other relationship outside of that exudes power team. For ex: Kylie and Kris Jenner. Scorpios are known to love power and Leo’s love the spotlight! Kylie was bound to be a favorite after her « ugly duckling » phase. Kylie rolls in the dough and Kris keeps that empire going. I’ve seen many Scorpio parents with Leo kids and they really seem to love them the most lol
Let’s talk about underdeveloped placements real quick!
🌿 Having a parent that is toxic or underdeveloped and has placements that fall into your second house can obliterate your self worth. ESPECIALLY if you have planets in that house and their placements are exactly conjunct 0° or 1-3°.
🌾 If your mars sign is exactly square one of your parents mars or 1-5° orb… 🌚 take the steps to move out if you haven’t already it’s for the best.
🌿 Capricorn moons I wish I could hug all of you. You had to grow up so fast and got handed some of the worst cards. But nevertheless resilience is your middle name. As you age things will get easier if you stand on business! Integrity is key.
🌾 I know libras are known to be superficial or whatever and I’m kinda one of them lol. I literally live off of aesthetics and I typically have nice skin but when I have a massive break out? I literally want to hide until they’re gone. My stress is next level when I don’t look my best.. I’m also a Leo Venus 😅 in the tenth house at that and have cancelled plans when I look and feel shitty.
🌿 All of the air signs almost always value intellectual stimulation first from their partner. Someone they can have great rapport, banter with. Someone that’s witty and knows a wide variety of subjects or has many interests is very hot. Sagittarius is the air sign of the fire signs so I’ll loop them in on this too.
If we lost any zodiac element, it would bring chaos to the entire world.
🌾 Air brings logic and reasoning, water brings compassion and empathy, earth brings grounding and patience, fire brings passion and vitality. Life is about interconnectedness.
🌿 I remember reading a blog that the gods put the constellation of Libra in between Virgo and Scorpio because they were too much alike and it’s so true lol. Both signs can be so compulsive and it’s overwhelming from what I’ve heard from Virgo and Scorpio placements. I can also see this easy going equivalence being the case for Sagittarius being in between Scorpio and Capricorn. The benefics happy go luckies in between the malefics drained and over it.
🌾… moon 3rd house overlay is addictive especially combined with 7th/8th/12th overlays in that synastry. I don’t think I can ever do that again unless we both have it overlaying each others charts. Someone’s moon in your 3rd house, their mind fascinates you and it’s easy to communicate with them you feel seen and heard. You dream about them, you think about them all the freaking time. It is the most annoying thing because why are you taking up my brain space like that bro? I had this with someone and I still think about them it’s been over for quite some time now. Another person that’s in love with me, my moon falls into their 3rd house and they tell me how much they think about me and day dream about me. I had said issue of daydreaming with the other guy. 2/10 would not recommend unless moon person is developed.
🌿 When the moon transits your first house you’re more likely to be more emotional and make drastic changes to your physical features! When Doja Cat shaved her head the moon was transiting her first house and I literally did mine the next day when it was transiting my first house.
🌾 Opinion but I love Pisces placements they are so helpful and loving when developed. I think the underdeveloped ones are too but they expect something out of it where the developed ones are just really selfless. I’m a Pisces Stan! I have so many in my life lol I have no Pisces placements. My 5H is in Pisces lol
🌿 Degree theory is that gworl. It helps you relate to the planet and it’s placement more depending on what the degree rules. For example I was dating a Sagittarius Venus in the 9th house at the 9° and he embodied that free spirited nature of Sag Venus fr. Another example, you can be a Pisces Venus but it’s in your first house at the first degree and the way you love embodies a more aries way of loving. Fiery, passionate a bit aggressive but very deep and tender to the core.
🌾 I’ve also heard the theory of when you reach the age of certain degrees of the placements you have you unlock that placements characteristics. Something significant happens to you during that age or you might master that placement regarding the planet and house placement.
🌿 The degree of your rising sign is more than likely the age of something significant happen in your physical life/to you physically. This is tea y’all.
🌾 You most likely share placements or degrees in your chart with your siblings. My sister is a Scorpio sun, Aries rising, Virgo moon and I’m a Libra sun, Scorpio rising, Aries moon. If I was born two days earlier I would’ve been a Virgo sun and if she was born one or two days later she would’ve been a Libra moon. So I think thats pretty cool. We’re also both Venus dominant and she has a Libra stellium 💗. You really choose your family for your next life lol like that’s so crazy to me.
🌿 Ima say dis with my chest. STOP doing wrong by Saturn ruled placements!!! Saturn is ruled by Capricorn, Aquarius in traditional astrology and we cannot forget about its exalted sign in Libra. As a Libra, I receive karma with the quickness but also people that have done wrong by me their quality of life decreases and or whichever house Saturn is in their chart is deeply affected in the worst ways.. daddy Saturn don’t play bout his! Be fair and follow the golden rule. “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.”
🌾 Having heavy Sagittarius placements in your chart makes you open to learn different languages or different cultures.. just always wanting to learn. Whatever house it’s in you want to master in life.
🌿 The mutables Gemini Virgo Sagittarius Pisces love their niches, they are the teachers and preachers of the zodiac.
🌾 Geminis have the gift of gab more than any other zodiac. Sagittarius could possibly go toe to toe with them
🌿 If anyone ever tries to degrade you for studying astrology and eggs you on to prove this practice to be true, get their birth info and read them their Chiron sign and house placement. Hit ‘em where it hurts!
🌾 Scorpio and Libra placements are usually the generational trauma breakers of their family. Honorable mention- Saturns children, Capricorn and Aquarius
🌿 An undeveloped Capricorn placement that enters your life is literally satan reincarnated to torture you for whatever you did wrong in your past life. And I (if u were raised around Christianity) believe Jesus was a Pisces/Aries! I can argue about this all day! In tarot Capricorn rules the devil! Like hellooooo
🌾 Sixth house/Virgo placements are pretty good at taking care of pets and plants. They feel the most sane around nature and animals.
🌿 Personal planets harmoniously aspected to Neptune make the person seem very angelic like. Very soft souls, earth angels. Hard aspects have people having an even more distorted projection of you.
🌾 Personal planets harmoniously aspected or not to Uranus gives you that shock factor some people will be repelled and some people will be very intrigued.
🌿 Aries placements especially sun and moon are really loyal! I’m talking mostly platonically. Once they see you as their person they are truly ride or die.
🌾 Cancer placements can be one of the most loving and giving when developed. Some spiteful mfs when underdeveloped omg.
🌿 I realize cancer placement women get treated with the cutest romantic gestures. I think they lovers want to do these things for them because they give off ethereal or princess vibes but they’re also real nasty in the sheets lol
🌾 Cancers don’t really get a bad rep even when they do shady things. For example: Selena Gomez when she dated Abel even tho she was cool with Bella was super weird. And I think a lot of people forgot how Kevin hart cheated on his wife like it was nothing lol. Ariana grande with the donuts and now the Ethan thing chileee. It’s like they get a second of backlash and then everyone adores them again lol.
🌿 Having a grand trine in your chart can make you so damn lazy in the houses those planets/figures are in 🥹🥲. It’s crazy cuz that talent(s) will come natural to you and you’ll over look it! Please don’t.
🌾 Grand squares are TOUGH but it pushes you to break cycles and overcome so much in your life. Same with t-squares
🌱 Astrology is really a map. It shows you which path you can take and where you can end up when you include discernment and discipline into your daily life. It’s never an excuse to behave the way you do. Ultimately it helps us reach our most aligned and enlighten self! I hope you all enjoyed. 🌱
Idk why I can’t figure out how to delete this question thing so let’s do a cute lil questionnaire!
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qwimblenorrisstan · 20 days
Text
Meaningful Mistakes Pt. 3 | Azriel x Reader x Cassian
Summary: After the baby is born, your mates are bound to be a bit more territorial, and you a lot more tired.
Word Count: 672
Warnings: None!
A/N: this is barely even a drabble, but thanks to anon who requested this, I love writing for this cute lil couple!! hope you enjoy<3
Requests are open!
Previous | Masterlist
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Your mates were bound to be more territorial after the baby was born, Rhysand and Feyre had informed you as much.
You didn’t have much of a problem with that, except for the fact that it meant you couldn’t do much of anything. At all. Even today, when after weeks of being practically bed-bound because of your boys taking care of you and the baby, you’d insisted that you and your baby girl needed some fresh air.
“Tired? You should let me carry you.”
Cassian insisted for the umpteenth time as you walked through the bustling streets. His hand was in yours, and Azriel was sulking to your right, unable to hold your hand because you were holding the baby in that arm.
“I’m fine, Cass.”
He grumbled under his breath, pouting now like Az, but continued walking with you. Many people from the streets of Velaris knew Cassian and Azriel, and now, you. This, in turn, led to many people stopping to congratulate you. Mostly the women, or the older ones that had known the General and Spymaster for quite a long time. Most of the males were old and wise enough to keep their distance.
However, one Fae male that must not have heard to keep away from a newly mated pair, let alone a group that had just had a child, approached to give congratulations on this day.
“Hey, congrats on the kid-“
You nodded your head with a weary smile, as even if you tried to convince your mates that you weren’t tired, maybe you were. Just a little bit. And your ankles and calves were hurting, not to mention how sore your thighs still were from the birth.
A low snarl ripped from Azriel at the male getting a bit too close to you for comfort. Cassian bared his teeth, wings flaring behind him. The poor male didn’t seem to know why.
“Sorry, they’re…territorial.”
You said, pinching Azriel’s wing with your left hand after slipping it out of Cassian’s hand. He grumbled under his breath, and the male mumbled something while walking away. Your little girl, face still a bit smushed like all newborns, cooed and giggled at them, and both of their attention immediately went to her.
“Seriously, you two need to-“
You cut yourself off with a yawn, your finger idly rubbing your baby girl’s cheek as her hands went to try and clap in excitement, Azriel’s shadows swirling around her.
“Need to…”
You mumbled, trying to remember what you’d been saying. Azriel and Cassian met each other’s gazes, and Cassian gently took the baby from your arms, cradling her, while Azriel picked you up, mindful of your sore body. His shadows began rubbing into the sorest parts, relaxing your muscles and soothing them with their cool touch.
“You’re tired, love, let’s go home and rest.”
Azriel cooed softly to you as your eyes fluttered, he and Cassian began to walk down the streets to find a private area to winnow without bothering anyone. You could faintly hear Cassian growling at any males getting in the way of them, or getting a tiny bit too close to you, Az, or his little girl. The baby giggled in glee at every growl, seemingly very amused.
“No, no, I’m..fine..”
You mumbled, convincing no one. Az’s cool shadows wrapped around your little family, winnowing all of you back into the House of Wind, and conveniently right into your bedroom. Azriel laid you down on the bed, and within a moment you were out, breathing in a deep rhythm that drew a tiny yawn out of Az himself.
Cassian came up from behind him and gave him a little pat on the back, hand going up to ruffle his hair a bit. His other arm held their daughter.
“Get some rest, Az. I’ve got her.”
Before he could protest, Cassian gave him the gentlest kiss on the cheek he’d ever felt and left the room.
That was enough to convince Azriel, who promptly collapsed into bed alongside you.
Tags:
@fantasyandshit
@mybestfriendmademe
@cressidagrey
@tele86
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zepskies · 23 days
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Lost on You - Part 6
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Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Supe!Reader
Summary: 1983 is a big year for you. You’re finally chosen to join the ranks of Payback, led by the most (in)famous supe in the world: Soldier Boy. He’ll never admit that he’s trying his damndest to figure you out. You’ll never admit that he’s actually growing on you. But the problem with this game is deciding who’s the predator, and who is prey.
AN: The pros and cons of tangling with Soldier Boy...
Song Inspo: “The Voodoo House” by Rick Springfield
Word Count: 6.4K
Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut and more smut, angst, a Noir sighting, death, and even some hurt/comfort if you squint.  
🎵 YouTube Playlist || Spotify Playlist
🎙️ Series Masterlist
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Part 6: Drowned & Spellbound
Countess was bound to get back at you for this.
You found that you didn’t give a shit as you sat across from your companion with a crystal glass of champagne in hand. You stared up at the tall arched ceilings and ornate chandeliers, the beautiful tapestries and landscape paintings, and most impressive of all, the tall, intricately carved walls of the Oak Room.
You’d heard about this restaurant, but you’d never in your life even stepped foot into the Plaza Hotel. You were now very glad you changed into a proper dress, as well as fixed your hair and makeup.
Across from your intimate table, Ben held his bourbon with a relaxed set to his shoulders. No doubt this was like getting a burger at Chilis for him.
“Enjoying the scenery?” he remarked, taking a sip.
You smiled a little bashfully. “It’s beautiful here. I’ve never been to a place like this.”
Ben’s answering smile was predictable. Stick with me, baby doll. I’ll show you a whole new world, it seemed to say.
“Sinatra comes here from time to time,” he said, pointing at a small corner stage with a piano. “He’s known to take that spot over there and do a tune or two, if he’s got enough whiskey in him.”
Frank Sinatra?! Now that was exciting. You couldn’t help but glance around to see if you spotted him, or any other famous person for that matter. When you heard a chuckle, you looked over and found Ben’s amused face.
“What?” you said with a smile.
“What, I’m not enough celebrity for you?” he teased, rolling his shoulders. “I stormed fucking Normandy, you know.”
You did know, but you leaned in closer, giving your amused attention. It didn’t take long for him to launch into an hour compilation of war stories from back in his day. You’d heard many of them before, but you made it seem as if you were hanging onto his every word.
You realized though, that you could sense him lying with your abilities. Every word that came from his mouth when he talked about his past, his achievements, his exploits in the war and how he helped Vought build a better America afterwards…
It was all complete and utter bullshit.
It took all you had to keep the incredulous frown off your face as you fought to remain invested in his stories. Okay, the one about him taking LSD with the Beatles during Woodstock was true, but other than that, complete and utter bullshit.
You ate mostly in silence as you allowed him to keep talking your ear off, just offering small interjections here and there while he devoured his steak. He seemed to enjoy the sound of his own voice.
You supposed this was what it was like to date the most famous man in the world. No wonder Countess got sick of him.
When he finally rested for a beat, ordering yet another glass of bourbon (you’d lost count at this point), you took your chance to learn something real about him.
“So you’re from Philly, huh?” you said. “What about your family?”
Ben pulled back on you then, his expression falling closer to stoicism.
“What about it?” he said.
“Well, I just realized I know a lot about your career and the amazing things you’ve done for this country, but I don’t know all that much about you,” you said, meeting his eyes. “Like…did you have siblings? What were your parents like? Did you have a dog growing up? That kind of thing.”
You laughed a little to lighten the load, but Ben only softened slightly. It took a moment for him to answer you.
“I was an only child,” he said, again, sipping at his glass. “No dog. Money was too tight for that.”
Again, a lie, you sensed. Not in the first answer, but the second one. Who the hell lied about having a dog?
Or maybe, it was the bit about money being tight. You knew his backstory from the documentary Vought made of him back in ‘75. He was the true “rags to riches” story, according to the narrative, having grown up poor and struggling to survive. It was the one thing you thought you could relate to him about.
But apparently, that wasn’t true either.
“And your parents?” you prodded.
“They were normal. I don’t know what the fuck you want me to say,” Ben said, a little more snappish than you expected. You blinked, taken aback.
You slid your chair a bit closer, so that you were sitting beside him rather than across from him. You laid a hand on his arm, over his jacket. 
“Look, I don’t just want to date Soldier Boy, America’s first superhero,” you said, looking up into his eyes. “I want to know you.”
Again, it took him a beat. But eventually, he lowered his glass back to the table and rubbed a hand over his mouth and chin.
“My mother was a singer at a club. A little crooner, like you,” he said. He eyed you with a slight smile. “That’s where she met my father. As the story goes, she was singing ‘Are You From Heaven’ when he walked in. She saw him, and it was like the uh…the fucking thunderbolt, from the Godfather.”
You smiled. All of this, you sensed, was true.
“They were married within a year,” he said, though he paused, as something distant passed through his eyes. “Pneumonia got her in the end. She was young…but she lived long enough to see me when I got back from the War. A hero.”
He picked up his drink again, maybe this time to distract himself.
“Hers was the last funeral I ever went to,” he said.
And that admission was the most surprising of them all. It managed to strike a familiar chord of grief within you when he looked over at you. You both felt and saw the weight in his gaze.
Maybe he was telling you this on purpose. Maybe he was, in his own way, trying to relate to you about your own mother’s death.
Tears began to sting behind your eyes, but you managed to blink them away. You slid your hand over his on the table. You felt him stiffen slightly, his body tensing up at your touch. You frowned when you saw the glint of wariness cross his face.
“I won’t compel you again, Ben. I promise,” you said. As long as you don’t give me a reason to.
Your hand traveled up his arm, soothing along his neck, your palm finally resting against his cheek. His green eyes stared into yours.
Soon enough, his wariness bled away into desire.
He hooked a foot around the leg of your chair and drew you in even closer, making you yelp in surprise. He smirked, having finally gotten the jump on you for a change. He wrapped an arm around your waist and brought you in closer.
You looked up at his handsome face with wide eyes. A blush dusted your cheeks, warming your face. His smirk softened around the edges, just a little, and he took his chance to engage your lips in a searing kiss.
And maybe this time, you were the one who was caught.
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Ben peeled his lips from your neck to give the server a firm no on dessert, “Just the check.”
The guy was good at his job, and was back with the check within a couple of minutes. Ben slapped a significant wad of cash down on the table and guided you up along with him. Breathless as you were, you held onto his arm to keep you up right. The only time you parted from him was at the foyer of the restaurant, where the staff brought your coats.
A limo was waiting outside. With a hand on your lower back (and creeping down to your ass), Ben ushered you in first before he slid in.
“Head back to the Tower,” he told the driver, even as he was pressing the button to raise the partition. “And fucking step on it.”
“Yes, sir.”
You already had a fist in his dress shirt when he turned his attention back to you. You pulled him closer at the same time he leaned in to cage you more fully into his arms. While his mouth ravaged yours, sucking in your lower lip and dragging his teeth across, your hands slipped under his coat and blazer to help him shrug them off.
He similarly ran one of his hands under your coat, up your side and over your breast, squeezing through the fabric. You gave him an encouraging sound, and he dragged a sleeve down along with the bra strap to expose your breast. He palmed you with that big, warm hand, rolling the nipple under his thumb.
None of it was an act when you moaned into his mouth and squeezed his shoulders tight. At this point, it wasn’t just about the game. It wasn’t just about using him. Despite everything—his arrogance, his callous, asshole behavior, his lies—you couldn’t deny that you wanted him. Right now, he was the only thing you wanted.
His lips dragged down your neck, igniting your skin wherever he sucked and teased. You held him there with a hand on his cheek, but it soon wound up into his hair. God, it was softer than it looked.
One of his wandering hands made its way under the skirt of your dress and between your thighs, teasing your slit through your panties. Your breath hitched, but you spread your legs wider for him across the seat. You felt his smirk against your neck.
“Finally ready for me, huh?” he said. “Kept me fucking waiting long enough.”
He didn’t even bother taking off your panties. He just pushed them to the side and dragged his fingers between your slick folds.
“Fuck, your wetter than Niagara already,” he remarked with a smirk.
You rolled your eyes because you knew he couldn’t see it. Smug bastard.
But he was withholding his fingers, just tracing along your pussy and teasing your entrance. Your core was already throbbing with need. Your hips began to undulate against his hand.
“God. Ben, please,” you panted in his ear.
Apparently, that was all he wanted to hear. You uttered a shameless moan when his thumb found your clit, causing a shiver down your spine and a tremble in your core. Soon enough, one of his long fingers slipped deep inside you, all the way to the knuckle.
“Oh, fuck,” you whispered. You didn’t want the driver to hear you.
“I gotcha, sweetheart. Gotta get you real ready for me,” he muttered. “You’re gonna take my cock so well, I can already feel it.”
On his last words, he added a finger and curled them inside you, exploring your inner walls and finding that special spot that made you keen into his ear. His thumb worked your clit at the same time, until you clenched on his hand so hard it had you gasping. He swallowed it with his mouth covering yours, all while he drew out your first release with his fingers stroking inside you.
It was a solid preview, you thought, when the car finally rolled to a stop in front of Vought Tower.
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Again, you held onto his arm mostly for balance as he led you to the elevators. Your legs felt like jelly when you tried to walk in your heels. Ben hit the button a bit too hard, but you understood it. Every second that ticked by while you two waited for the elevator was entirely too long.
When it finally opened, he guided you inside and pressed the button for his floor, the penthouse suite, all the way up nearly 80 floors.
A mischievous idea hit you. It had you slipping your hand under his coat and blazer again, tracing the seam of his belt. Ben glanced down at you in knowing amusement, but he let you unbuckle his belt without comment.
He just stared at you with a fire in his eyes while you unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. You dipped your hand inside the waistband and slid a slow hand along the full, impressive length of him. You smiled when it hardened fully at your touch.
“Is all this for me?” you said, even as you leaned up for a kiss.
“If you can handle it,” Ben said.
Then he obliged you, bowing his head to meet your kiss. You kept things slow as you sensuously licked into his mouth. You tasted bourbon on his tongue before you broke the kiss, just to lower down to your knees in front of him. You held onto the back of his strong thighs while you mimicked what you did with your tongue in his mouth, just further down as you outlined his cock through his underwear.
Ben tried to cover his moan with a grunt, but you sensed his powerful arousal. You had his full and undivided attention, especially when you hooked your nails into the band of his underwear and finally freed his cock. You took it in hand and licked a long stripe across the underside of it, from base to tip. He shuddered. His hand shot out to brace against the elevator wall, shaking the entire compartment with his strength.  
Your tongue circled around his sensitive head, licking up beads of precum from the slit. But just when you finally wrapped your lips around him and took him as far as you could into your mouth, the elevator stopped, chiming your arrival cheerfully. 
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He didn’t even wait until he had the door to his apartment closed before he dragged you towards him with a hard kiss. Your coat and his had already been cast to the floor, along with his blazer and tie. His dress shirt was halfway there when he hefted you into his arms effortlessly.
You grabbed his face and met him with a kiss fueled by lust and passion. You felt wild. You felt free. You felt like this was a sin you were meant to commit.  
Ben forcibly unbuttoned his pants with one hand and kicked out of them while you broke open the rest of his shirt, scattering buttons across the floor. It allowed you to run your hands over his warm, tan skin, every dip of muscle across his arms and shoulders, and down his solid chest.
He smirked at the way you were eyeing him, exploring him.
“Like what you see, baby doll?”
“Almost as much as you do,” you quipped back. He huffed at that.
He walked you over to the bed, where he dropped you down towards the center. You yelped and how high he’d dropped you from, but you were smiling when he prowled over you on his hands and knees like a predator. His hands slid up your smooth thighs, bunching up your dress all the way up to your hips. You raised up to help him get it over your head. Your hair was already wild by now; you pushed it out of your eyes with a huff.
His hands slid under you again to unclip the bra. It was flung off to parts unknown, along with your panties. He paused in between to trail open-mouthed kisses down your body, between the valley of your breasts.
He turned his head to start toying with one pebbled nipple, swirling his tongue around it. Your fingers threaded through his hair along with your moans as he relentlessly teased your sensitive flesh with his teeth.
"You gonna sing for me, sweetheart?" his voice rumbled smoothly against your skin. "Pretty soon I'm gonna have you screaming for me."
He continued his exploration, his lips dragging down your stomach. And then…
“Oh,” you back arched off the bed. He devoured your pussy with the same tenacity as he had your mouth. His tongue pushed into your entrance while his nose brushed your clit.
Soon enough, your juices coated his stubble-laden cheeks and ran down his chin. His strong hand on your lower belly held you down while he finished his work, his lips moving to suck on your clit. His thick fingers pressed into your channel and worked you open.
You gripped at his hair tightly, cursing and pleading with his name, until you uttered a strangled yell. Your inner walls clenched hard as you came on his tongue.
But you were only able to take maybe one or two breaths of recovery before you felt the thick head of his cock breach your entrance, pushing his way in all the way to the hilt.
You gasped and bit your nails into his shoulders. “Jesus Christ!”
“Not quite,” Ben grunted, though he smirked down at you. “Now let’s see how well you take me. Still so fucking tight.”
Your core contracted around him, still sensitive and pulsing from your orgasm. He didn’t give you a moment more to catch your breath as he began a steady, almost punishing clip inside you. He was stretching you in the most delicious of ways, hitting places deeper than his fingers had been able to reach. It felt so fucking good, all you could do was hold on for the ride.
You wrapped your thighs tighter around his hips, digging your heels into his ass. He ducked down to kiss you, rough and demanding. Your lips met his sloppily, before he dragged away to bite and suck where your neck met your shoulder. You winced at the pain tinged with pleasure, but your eyes rolled shut as you grabbed a fistful of his hair.
Each of his deep strokes inside you was edging you closer to another cresting wave of pleasure. You slipped a hand between you to find your clit, but Ben grabbed your hand and pinned it beside your head.
“Look at me,” he demanded in a near growl.
Your eyes blinked open with a start. You met his gaze. Sweat lined his brow. His other hand was squeezing the flesh of your thigh, opening you up wider for him. You let out a shuddering breath.
“I’m gonna fucking wreck you,” he said, “But first, say my fucking name.”
“Ben,” you gasped, as he shifted the angle of his thrusts. The coil in your lower belly was tightening, your muscles bearing down and clenching on him.
“Say my fucking name,” he repeated, releasing your wrist to lay a heavy smack on your ass. The impact rattled up your spine and you jolted, accidently raking his back with your nails. You felt him shiver then. He moved his fingers down to strum at your clit.
And he got what he wanted. He had you screaming his name along with your release. His body locked up as a strangled shout fell from his lips. He coated your inner walls with his spend as they fluttered around him.
“Fuck,” he muttered, satisfied and spent.
He grabbed onto the headboard in order to hold himself above you, else he would crush you with his weight. You ran your hands up and down his chest more lazily as you each caught your breath.
Thank fuck for the pill, you thought airily. Because clearly this man didn’t care about condoms.
He eventually pulled out of you, making you shiver at the loss. He rolled off you and stretched out on his side of the bed. You turned your head to look at him. He gave you a relaxed grin in return, like the cat who got the cream.
In that moment, it really hit you.
There’s no going back now.
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About a week later, you and Ben had developed a kind of…rhythm.
Yet another glass tipped over and shattered on the floor. He didn’t seem to care as he thrust into you from behind on his dining table. Your moans of encouragement were loud and genuine; your nails scraped across the stained tablecloth, incidentally shoving another plate overboard.
Your quiet dinner had been interrupted halfway through dessert. The moment you’d sucked a ribbon of chocolate off your spoon, Ben had reached for you, pulling you into his lap. You’d been all too willing to let him suck the sweetness right off your tongue.
“That’s it, baby, fucking sing for me,” he growled into your ear. His hand crept around your throat, giving a warning squeeze. You grabbed onto his wrist to keep it there. You held onto him like a lifeline. Sometimes you felt like his cock was going to split you in two. But his iron grip on your hip kept you from going anywhere.
His release ultimately hit him before yours. He grunted as his movements became sloppy, but he still pushed into you. You purposefully clenched on him, stealing his breath this time.
He let go of your throat so he could bury his hand between your folds. He rolled your already sensitive clit between his fingers until you cried out, your body locking up on him outside of your control. Your orgasm hit you in a warm, heady wave. Your legs shook, and you slumped onto the table.
Ben was right there with you. For a moment, all he could do was grip the edge of the polished mahogany and stare at the newly formed hickey on the back of your neck. He swiped your hair out of the way so he could see it better. He knew every mark that he’d put on you, even the ones he couldn’t see right now, under the pretty dress you…sort of had on.
“You okay?” he chuckled.
You huffed in amusement, despite your exhaustion. “I could’ve sworn the damn table was going to crack in half.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” he remarked.
He slipped out of you, giving you one last smack on the ass. He didn’t bother to lower your skirt before he dragged up his pants and belt.
“Wanna join me in the shower?” he posed.
You did your best to fix the fallen straps of your dress and ruined bra, along with your hair and lipstick. You found your underwear clinging to a wall sconce. You grabbed that too and slipped it on, then you offered an apologetic smile.
“Raincheck?” you said. “I should go back to my place and get some training in.”
Ben rose a brow. No matter what he offered, you were never one to stay very long after a good fuck…
Not that he minded.
It was usually him giving the excuses to leave, trying to avoid the inevitable clinginess of women after sex. Still, this time he wouldn’t have minded the company.
Maybe next time.
Ben smirked as he drew near you again. He slipped an arm around your waist and pulled you flush against him. You held onto his arms and peered up at him questioningly.
“You mean to tell me you’re gonna walk downstairs, ride the elevator some thirty floors, and walk back all the way to your apartment with my come between your legs?” he asked.
He had to admit, the thought aroused him. Your cheeky little smile did too. Your hands came to rest on his chest, and you leaned up for a slower kiss. It was no less heated as your tongue slipped against his. You pulled away just as slowly, letting your teeth drag against his lower lip.
“Goodnight,” you said.
And you walked away from him. He enjoyed the show you gave him as your skirt swished against your thighs. By now he knew your every curve in intimate detail, and still he hadn’t had enough of you.
He knew he’d be feasting on you for a good long while.
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News traveled fast in Vought Tower.
Especially about your little trysts with Soldier Boy. You knew by the too-polite smiles the staff gave you now, as well as the wide, cold berth Crimson Countess was giving you too. You had expected more of a retaliation from her, but you remembered that day in the gym all too well.
She probably thought you and Ben wouldn't last. Either that, or maybe she was afraid of antagonizing him. Maybe she was biding her time, waiting for her moment to get back at you. Either way, you weren't going to drop your guard around her.
In the meantime, Tessa was friendlier to you, and Tommy had finally stopped hitting on you. Swatto tried not to even look in your direction.
Mindstorm, of course, continued to be a hermit, but even Black Noir was more distant with you, which was the one change that disappointed you. The two of you sometimes shared conversations in the breakroom like you had that first day. You’d started to think of him as a friend.
So the next time he tried to pass you while you were making coffee in the morning, you finally said something.
“Hey."
It wasn't your most elegant start, but he paused, in that subtle way of his when his helmet was on. He looked over at you over his shoulder.
“Um…do you want some coffee?” you offered, raising your own mug.
Noir shook his head.
“Okay. Well, uh, how are you?” you asked. “Any exciting missions lately?”
Noir just stared at you. You didn’t blame him. You knew you sounded lame.
So you switched tactics. “Oh, yeah. How’s that movie pitch coming?”
At that, Noir tilted his head slightly. He took his helmet off, revealing his furrowed brows. It was like he didn’t know how to talk to you anymore, which confused you.
“I’ve actually got an audition coming up,” he admitted. “There’s this new movie, Beverly Hills Cop. It’s action, and it’s uh, funny.”
You smiled. “That’s great!”
“I’ve asked around, and I heard Eddie Murphy’s my main competition though. He’s got more experience in comedy,” he said, sliding a hand across the back of his neck.
You shook your head. “Yeah, but superheroes always make the studio more money. And I’m sure you nailed your audition. This could be really great for you!”
A smile flickered across his lips.
“Yeah, I think so,” he said. But the longer he stared at your face, the more his expression fell. “What the fuck do you see in him?”
Your smile fell as well. “What?”
“You’re new…boyfriend, or fuck buddy, or whatever it is you’re calling it. I mean, really,” Noir said. “The guy’s probably a walking STD. He doesn’t give a shit who he hurts, or who else he fucks, for that matter.”
Your lips pursed as you fought not to be hurt by his words. You schooled your expression.
“The idiots who get caught by him deserve to have their hearts broken,” you said dryly. 
“But not you,” Noir pointed out. “If you see through his bullshit, then why are you with him? For power? Like Countess, you think you gotta be with the big swinging dick in the room to get any respect?”
His disdain cut into you, and like all things, he had deadly accuracy.
“I have my reasons,�� you said. “I don’t expect you to understand. You’re a fucking man.”
“Right. Still black though, in case you forgot what I looked like under this goddamn suit,” Noir snapped.
Your face warmed with embarrassment, and maybe shame.
“You think you’re so much smarter than everyone else,” he said. “That somehow, you’re better because you’re afraid to get your hands dirty. Well, guess what, Sirena. You’re no fucking better than Countess. You’re just like the rest of us.”
Your lips trembled with anger, but you didn’t have an easy retort this time. Noir left you seething where you stood.
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Ben reclined in one of the plush office chairs and folded his hands.
“Let’s make this quick. I’ve got shit to do,” he said.
You were more quietly polite as you sat beside him. Inside, you were wary. Why had they asked for you and Ben into a meeting together? It felt like you’d been summoned to the principal’s office.
Across from you was Madelyn, perched on the corner of the conference table, while Stan Edgar sat beside her in a chair. He shared a look with Madelyn, whose smile was unreadable. Arthur sat to Stan’s left.
Madelyn addressed you and Ben first. “Well, as you know, Red Thunder is about to launch next week.”
Ben inclined his head expectantly.
“We would never want to meddle in your personal business. However—”
“Spit it out, sweetheart,” he said, with a superficial smile. You shot him a glance, seeing how Madelyn managed to keep her polite façade. She was almost a better actor than you.  
“We believe it would be prudent if you kept the status of your relationship…discreet for now,” said Stan. “Along with your breakup with Crimson Countess.”
“Why should I give a flying fuck about that?” Ben asked.
“Because Red Thunder isn’t just a political action thriller,” Stan said. “There’s also a romantic storyline.”
“You and Countess are meant to be in love in the movie,” Arthur finally chimed in. He seemed impatient with Stan’s roundabout way of saying it. “It’ll be better for everybody if you and Countess do the red carpet together, like we planned.”
“And the press tour as well,” Madelyn added.
Ben rolled his eyes, but you let out a small breath and nodded in agreement.
“That’s understandable,” you said. You looked over at Ben, waiting for him to agree too. You knew he wanted his movie to do well. He just didn’t like being told what he couldn’t do, even in the public eye.
He eventually nodded. You gave him a smile, making his lips tug upwards as well.
Yeah, you thought. We can hide this for a couple of months.
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There were times when you could do nothing but blink at the sea of cheering people on both sides of the red carpet.
So many flashing lights.
You had never been to a movie premier before, and it was as exciting as it was overwhelming. A security team flanked around your group as your other Payback team members approached the photo op section.
Ben was just ahead of you, looking dapper in a dark green Armani suit. He was escorting Countess, who admittedly looked elegant in her Oscar-worthy red dress (not that she was winning an Oscar for this movie). It had a large skirt though, and it made it hard for him to even stand close to her while they posed for photos.
He had that debonair look perfected as he greeted press and guided Countess by the small of her back. She was giving a good performance herself, smiling up at him, occasionally rubbing his arm where she held onto him.
You would never admit to the sliver of jealousy pricking your heart, so instead, you focused on the poses Madelyn’s PR team had drilled into you as you took pictures alone. Your stylist had opted for something different than your usual black or violet color schemes.
Since this was your first red carpet, she wanted you to try something new. So she’d put you in a white ‘20s style gown, complete with intricate silver beading down the skirt. You felt a bit like a chandelier, but it did drape nicely off your form.
You shuffled along the queue of press and photographers. Black Noir and the TNT Twins were behind you in the lineup, while Countess was taking an opportunity to bask in the limelight, getting her pictures taken on her own as she showed off the billowing skirt of her dress.
Meanwhile, Ben had a hand in his pocket as he posed by himself. You sensed he was getting bored, even with so much attention on him.
“Hey, why not you two together?” a photographer called out to you and Ben, gesturing at you to get closer to him. You blinked wide eyes, but you did as you were told. Ben looked over at you, a smile tugging at his lips. He slipped a hand around your waist and guided you to his side.
While the photographer snapped away, Ben leaned over to your ear.
“You look stunning,” he said. His voice was smooth and baritone. “But I know I’m gonna like that dress even better when it’s a crumpled mess on my floor.”
You resisted the urge to bite your lip. Instead, you glanced up at him over your shoulder. You two shared a small, secret smile.
Click.
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And the secret was out.
That brief, intimate moment between you and Ben became plastered across every tabloid in the city, and even some of the “respectable” magazines.
SOLDIER BOY + SIRENA SECRET AFFAIR?!
And various headlines of the like. Even Johnny Carson had something to say about it on the Tonight Show.
“Now, it’s Soldier Boy’s business of course, but if it’s true, I do feel a little sorry for Crimson Countess. Don’t you?”
The crowd in studio, much like the rest of the fans, were divided. Most women were sympathizing with Countess, while most men seemed to be supporting Soldier Boy (and you by extension).
This wasn’t how you wanted this to happen. It was no small amount of chaos from a PR perspective, and it had quickly made you a polarizing figure in the media.
You just didn’t expect how it would affect your real life, as you headed down Broadway after a successful mission. Not only had you stopped a man from shooting up a bank, but you and the TNT Twins had saved the entire staff and patrons inside. Without collateral damage this time.
You were just stopping off to grab a coffee from one of your favorite cafés when you noticed a woman waiting for the bus. She was glaring at you with a gas station slushie in her hand. You’d fully intended to ignore her, before she shouted something at you.
“Homewrecker!”
You frowned. Jesus, it wasn’t like they were married.
“Excuse me?” you said incredulously.
“You heard me, fucking hussy,” the woman said. She was wearing a red Crimson Countess-themed watch.
You rolled your eyes and aimed to walk past her. That’s when she tossed her slushie and hit you on the side of your head. You gasped as red berry syrup and ice drenched you and ran down your suit. It even stung your eyes.
Anger and instinct took over. When she approached you, you shoved her hard by her shoulders.
“Back off!” you shouted. You just didn’t realize that your eyes glowed with power when you touched her. You’d compelled her on accident.
The woman’s face went blank. Not only did she step back from you with her hands raised in surrender, but she kept walking backwards, all the way to the street.
Your eyes widened as you reached out to her. “Stop!”
You ran to her, but it was too late. Unfortunately for her, the bus arrived right on time.
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You sat in Arthur’s office, your hands still shaking, your face, hair, and chest still covered in a sticky film of slushie syrup. He handed you a towel to clean yourself off and returned to his desk. It didn’t do much good.
“Thank you,” you said in a small voice. And you said again, “I-I…it was an accident.”
“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. This isn’t our first rodeo,” he said. “The clean-up crew’s already working on the site of the incident.”
“What,” you cleared your throat. “What about her family?”
“Why do you think we have lawyers?” Arthur said. His smile wasn’t reassuring. “So just go back to your room, clean up, and relax. We’ll take care of this.”
Dully you nodded. You peeled yourself up from the leather chair, and you made the trek back to your room. You showered and got changed, but you still felt dirty. In your mind, you kept seeing the bus split that woman’s face into the pavement.
You were restless, so you got dressed into something comfortable and didn’t even bother with makeup when you went up to the penthouse. Ben let you in, though he frowned at the state of you.
“I heard what happened,” he said.
You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. Tears stung at your eyes. You looked so small and fragile at that moment, Ben couldn’t help but soften ever so slightly. He guided you inside with a hand on your back.
“You hungry?” he asked. “Can have the chef bring something up.”
You shook your head and plopped down on his living room sofa. He made you a drink instead—a vodka soda with a lime, just like you liked. You stared at it, then you downed it all in one long go.
Ben raised his brows, but he sat beside you.
“It’s not your fault,” he said.
You set the glass down heavily on the coffee table and gave him a tearful look.
“How is that possible?”
“She disrespected you,” he said, with a note of darkness in his voice, in his eyes. “You had every right to hit back, put her in her place.”
You turned his words over in your head, but you couldn’t accept them. You didn’t want to justify this. You knew it was wrong.
Ben’s hand slid across your thigh, drawing your attention.
“If I’d been there, believe me. That shit wouldn’t have even had the chance to come out of her fucking mouth,” he said coolly.
Somehow, you’d already known that. You just didn’t know if it was his way of being protective, or if it was just him taking a slight against you as a reflection on him, as a man. Either way, it didn’t really make you feel better. Your tears bubbled over, no matter how much you held them back.
Ben’s frown deepened, though he hesitated for a moment. He tugged you over into his lap, where he reached for your cheek and got you to meet his eyes with your red and shiny ones. He captured your lips in a kiss.
If all else fails, distraction.
He worked your sweater off, then your bra, and guided you down onto the sofa. There he kissed his way down your neck while undoing the button on your jeans. You raked your fingers through his hair.
“Ben,” you whispered. “I—”
“Just relax,” he rumbled.  
You fell into the pull of him, letting his mouth and his touch intoxicate you. You didn’t want to let him make you forget. You didn’t want to let this be okay.
But you couldn’t help it. You wanted him, and maybe this time, you needed him too. 
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AN: A little smut, a little angst, a little involuntary manslaughter. What else in the world of The Boys, amirite? 😅 But how do you like how her relationship (or not quite relationship) with Ben is developing?
Next comes even more supe debauchery, and a big monkey wrench...
Next Time:
You grabbed the nearest bottle of alcohol, went over to them, and subtly touched Countess’s bare shoulder.
Give that shot to Tommy, you compelled her.
With that small trill of your power, Countess stood straighter and beelined straight for Tommy. She grabbed him by the back of his head and surprised him with a deep tequila kiss.
Gross.
You grimaced at the sight, but when you looked back at Ben, he was smirking in amusement. He slid an arm around your waist and spoke closely in your ear.
“Let’s have some fun.”
▶️ Keep Reading: PART 7
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thoughtsfromlayla · 6 months
Text
26 Ways of Taking You: D for Doggy
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Summary: How does an Endless teach you a lesson? Maybe on your hands and knees.
Notes: ~2.9k words, your girl needs to get laid 눈_눈
Warnings: MDNI - 18+, unprotective sex (do you think Endless can get STDs?), fem!reader, dom!dream, p in v, no foreplay goin' in dry babyyyy, jealous dream, unintentional cheating, slight angst but it gets fucked out, enjoy
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The world warps around you once again as your body stretches to a singular dimension. You are the beginning and end of everything. You will be there even when Death leaves and then you will take what she has left and open the next universe. Rebirth and repurpose. 
The Traveller. The One Who Knows. The Singularity. 
You have a name, you think, but it’s so old you don’t even remember how it feels on your tongue. 
It’s lonely being you, your sole job is making sure that everything works out in the end for every being, dead, alive, or yet to exist. And in your lonely existence, you often wander to different universes and realms. Your favorite was the Dreaming, a large realm that spread several different universes ruled by the Lord of Dreams, Morpheus. 
The familiar essence of the Dreaming greets you when you’re done warping into the realm. You feel each cell of your body rebuilding itself, from quirks to cells, from cells to living organisms, you are reborn. With a blow from your lips, your hair made of star systems and nebulas float back into place. 
The familiar corset you wore before you warped cinches around your waist and a breath leaves you, the ivory bones poking into your ribs. It was the necessary fashion for the realm you went to where a sneakily placed seed was enough to end a war that would come in five decade’s time. The rest of the time was spent entertaining the fae prince in his court. A good way to pass the time, but it eventually got boring, hence here you were.
The smell of tea and leather bound books indicates that you managed to weasel yourself into Lucienne’s library. You run your fingers across the spine of old and new books alike, occasionally itching your back when the markings annoy you. The corset dilutes the relief and you’re left with a slight vex for being denied scratching an itch. Lucienne is fast to find you, or you her, it’s all the same to you. You greet each other at a long table. Scrolls, books, and maps laid out before you. 
“Lady Singularity,” She greets with a familiar smile. “It’s good to see you again. It’s been a few decades now, has it?” 
“It has.” You agree as you turn your attention to the worn book in her hands, noticing the familiar face of the fae prince you met. “I was just with him.” You comment off handedly. 
“Of course, the Dreaming catalogs everything. You have been busy.” Lucienne comments as she continues to flip through the pages of your recent adventure. 
You look over her shoulder and read along with her, chuckling to yourself at the fun you had. When a familiar scene starts to unfold on the page, blush creeps up your cheeks and down your neck, a few of the stars in your hair exploding from your outrage. 
“Don’t read that!” You exclaim as you yank the book from her hands. You close it shut and the sound echoes in the library. 
“Oh, please, I’ve read everything. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” Lucienne takes the book from you and no matter how hard you grip, the librarian has some weird power over the book and takes it easily. 
“Okay, well don’t read it when I’m in the room. I don’t need a friend to know what I did with… him.” Your words taper as you give yourself away the more you speak. “I’m leaving.” You say quickly as you run away from the situation. 
The sun is setting when you make your way up the winding and seemingly never-ending stairs of the castle. The halls were cast in warm pinks and oranges when you reached the room the Dream Lord had given you the first time you visited several millennia ago. The room is the same as you left it, the open window giving to a soft breeze as dusk turns to night. 
You walk to the mirror, noticing slight changes to your physical form when you jump through that wormhole. You’ll stay the night and then go back to your own realm, the dimension between past and future, but for now, the present is much needed. 
You pull at the string of your outer dress and start to breathe easier, the heavy fabric dropping and pooling around your feet. Your shoes come off soon after and then your stockings. Your fingers grasp at the strings that tie your corset together but each time comes just an inch short. You’re becoming breathless from the struggle when your room door opens. 
“Singularity.” A voice calls out to you. His shadow blocks the entire door before he slinks into the room. His robe flowed behind him like a wave of black ink. 
“Hello, Morpheus.” You greet back, looking at him through the ornate mirror. 
You go back to trying to loosen your corset, the markings on your back growing more and more itchy the longer you struggle. You give up with a huff, and your shoulders sag in defeat. 
“Allow me,” Dream offers and his cold fingers run across your upper back, moving the nebulas over your shoulder, then trailer down your shoulder. 
Goosebumps follow the fingers and down your arms before his slender fingers go to untangle the corset strings. You feel his exhale on the back of your neck and you close your eyes, afraid of what you may look like to him through the mirror, or worse yet losing yourself if you were to see him. You do end up peaking and watching intensely at how his expert fingers unfasten the strings of the constricting clothing. 
“I have missed you.” Dream confesses.
His lips press against the base of your neck when the corset finally comes off. Despite it slowly coming off, you find it hard to breathe still. His proximity was going to kill you if the end of time didn’t. He looks at you through the mirror, keeping eye contact with you as his fingers land on your waist. 
“Will you stay the night?” He murmurs against your neck, kissing the soft skin beneath it again. His hands go over your shoulder again, pulling at the chemise and letting the thin fabric fall off by itself. The final piece of clothing joining the others at your feet. 
You turn around, his hands guiding you, and place your arms around his neck, resting them there on his shoulders. 
“Maybe a few nights, if you shall permit it?” You grin up at him with a slight tilt of your head. 
He chuckles and leans in for a kiss and you meet him halfway, standing on your toes to reach his height. Oh, how he has missed the taste of you, the softness of your lips pressed against his. You have been gone too long, he thinks with a groan. 
You jump and find it to no surprise when he catches you easily, your legs wrapping around his waist comfortably as he moves the two of you towards the bed. Morpheus is all hands, running them over the roundness of your ass, up the curves of your hips, back down to caress the plumpness of your thighs. 
His lips continue, running his tongue across your bottom lip and leaning into you when you answer with a whine. The taste of you drives him crazy, his mind is in swirls as he tastes faerie pomegranate and figs. 
“Did you visit the Faerie Prince of Khoné?” He pulls away from your lips despite the difficulty of being away from you. Instead he finds solace in the shape of your collarbone, pressing open mouth kisses onto the thin skin. “I can taste it. I can taste him.” His voice rumbles with danger, the voice of a jealous lover. 
Oblivious, you settle your arms around his neck, playing with the small loose hairs at the base of his head. “I did, why?”
“And you visited him?” He asked again, emphasizing the word to ask you indirectly of what he really wanted to know. 
You look at him, eyes dark and swirling with emotion, his hands on your hips holding you harder as the seconds tick by. 
“Yes?” You answer unsure. “I visited him.”
A frown etches onto his face as he stays silent. 
You scoff at his reaction. “Of course I have multiple lovers, as I expect you to as well?”
Your fingers wander upwards into his unruly hair, twisting a few strands between your fingers. Still, he stays silent. The only indication was the brief flick of his eyes leaving yours. 
“Oh,” You say when you understand. “Oh.” You say one more time when the weight of the conversation dawns on you again. 
You’ve never felt more exposed than you have now, an emotional wedge driven between you and Morpheus. You get up from his lap and it hurts when he lets you, you feel the way your stomach drops at how easily he lets you go. Your arms cross over your chest and you step further away from the bed, and from him. The two parts of the equation are something you no longer saw yourself allowed to be a part of. 
“Forgive me, I presumed you had other lovers,” You meekly say.
Morpheus saw you now, no longer the confident entity that you usually were. You didn’t even meet his gaze. The stars in your hair turned blue and dull, a few dying at the fraying ends. 
“You presumed I had other lovers?” He echos, his voice tipped with anger. He stands now, looming over you, peering at you down his nose. His question was obvious, accusatory, and somewhat downright demeaning. 
“Forgive me, I’ll just…” You turn to leave, running away just as you’ve always done when things get too hard. You feel the way your body begins to warp, unraveling strand by strand. 
The warping stops when cool hands wrap themselves around your waist once again. One moment you are between realms and the next you are pulled back on the plush bed. You stare, dazed, at the equally ornate headboard and try to backtrack what just happened. Morpheus comes behind you, watching with lust filled eyes of you on your hands and knees, at the way your hair falls over your shoulders. You turn your head and look at him over your shoulders, unsure what was happening. Morpheus’s face gives away nothing, even his clothes disappeared, an act that you didn’t see him do.
“What’s–” Your words are cut off as he leans and his hand comes entangled in your hair, firmly grasping it. A gasp leaves your lips and you notice the way your body couldn’t stop the way your back arched at the pleasurable pain. 
“Bow your head,” He growls as he shoves your head into the pillow. Your arms give out beneath you at the slight force. Heat travels easily down to your core and you feel the wetness slide down your inner thigh. 
“It’s Lord Morpheus for tonight, darling. You will do well to remember that.” His voice gravels as he runs a finger down your spine. He traces the markings lightly, causing a ticklish sensation across your back and a whine follows. Your ass pushes back on him impatiently at which he clicks his tongue at. 
“You do not get to ask for anything tonight. You will only take what your rightful lover will give you, understood?” His fingers trace your opening teasingly as his other hand holds down your hip in control, 
“Yes, my lord,” You gape, your eyes rolling and you swore you could see the back of your skull. A plea rests heavy on your tongue, but you bite yourself so as to not break his rules tonight. 
Dream of the Endless is a gentle lover, but even his patience can run thin. His eyes run over your figure, curves prominent at the position he has placed you in. He loved you like this, vulnerable, exposed, and ready for him to do as he pleases with you tonight. 
The hotness of him presses against your entrance, sitting comfortably between your lips and he pushes forward once, twice, neither times entering you. You only whine in distress as he dances the line between teasing and pure, unadulterated pleasure. He caresses his hand over the curve of your ass, against the softness of your thighs, just like before, and you understand that he isn’t mad anymore, but you will be taught a lesson tonight nonetheless. 
He grabs the base of your hair again, the nebulas leaving shimmering stardust over his finger and presses a third time. His other hand grounds you on your hips and he pushes in. Without any proper foreplay his size stretches you uncomfortably. But, Dream of the Endless is a gentle lover so he stays still, fighting every urge in his shaking body as he looks down at your ragged breathing and uncontrollable shivers. 
He waits until you push back into him before he begins to move, taking you in inch by thick inch. He pulls out and a groan vibrates in his throat at the drag of his cock in you. The sound of your muffled moans spur him as he stares at how he enters you again. One more drag of his cock and he starts to fuck you in earnest as your whimpers grow louder. 
The sound of skin slapping against skin bounce around the room accompanied by the sound of your wonton, muffled moans. He pulls at your hair, pulling your face away from the pillows and the sounds grow louder. Each thrust he gives you makes your moans grow higher in pitch. You don’t think he’s ever been this deep in you as he scrambles the thoughts into your brain into nothing more than pleasurable gibberish. 
His hands were everywhere they could get a hold of. You’re chanting now, anything that comes across as a thought in your mind leaves your mouth in a haste of gibberish and repeats of his name like a mantra. Your clit begs for attention and with the last bit of clarity you had left, you moved one hand down towards your core. 
Morpheus is quick to stop you, giving a sound slap on the meat of your ass cheeks, the sting enough for you to yank your hand away. 
“Please,” You whine. “Please, please, please, my lord.”
“Will you return to the Faerie Prince of Khoné?” He asks between pants.
Your pussy tightens around his cock as his fingers and trusts do not slow down. Your orgasm was imminent and just barely shimmering under your skin. The question he asks sounds muffled in your mind, distorted amongst the thoughts of his unrelenting pounding and your clit pulsing from attention. 
“Hah… who?” You managed to choke out.
“Perfect answer, my star.” He whispers in your ear.
“Please,” You beg again. “I need it.” 
He thinks for a bit, considering if you deserve it as he watches you try to fuck yourself harder by meeting his thrusts. With a hum he leans over you, enveloping you in the warmth of his body as his fingers slide between your legs. He taps it once, enough to make you jump slightly in your skin, before he draws tight circles around the enlarged clit, your arousal making the action easy and slippery. 
Somewhere along the lines of your moaning, drool seeps out of you, wetting the pillow with your spit. Morpheus notices, of course, and grins at the sight. 
“Let me cum, please let me cum!” You plead into the air, obscenities of his name following soon after. 
“Very well, I shall give it to you.” 
Morpheus fucks you harder, just the way you like it, just the way he knows how to give it to you. Your orgasm is ripped out of you with a high pitched wail, sparking down your spine as little firecrackers light up in your hair, your teeth buzzing with the force of it all. The wetness of your orgasm soaks the inside of your thighs and drips down onto the sheets. Morpheus watches closely as it leaves you in a panting mess and feels himself become undone, releasing himself into the deepest part of you. 
He stays like that for a few moments, relishing in the warmth of your sex. When he does pull out, the mixture of your two arousals slowly seeps out, joining the puddle on the sheets. He calms his breathing, going back to tracing the art on your spine. You collapse in a heap of flesh and bones, using the last bit of your energy to turn over and lay on your back. Morpheus crawls over you, his hand never leaving your skin as he cups your face. 
“No more lovers but you,” You promise as he places a soft kiss on your lips. 
“I could never control you even if I wanted to, but… thank you,” He says as he accepts your promise. 
Morpheus falls beside you and pulls the blankets over both of your bodies, pulling you close so you would be flushed against his side. By now the sun has long since set and the two lovers share each other’s embrace in the company of stars. 
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This was my poor attempt at understanding physics and trying to personify a concept like a singularity
♡ Yours, Layla
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hotdaemondtargaryen · 2 months
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TOM GLYNN-CARNEY INTERVIEWED BY VANITY FAIR MAGAZINE.
KING AEGON COULD BE A VERY ONE-NOTE VILLAIN CHARACTER, BUT IN YOUR HANDS IS NOT. HOW DID YOU APPROACH CALIBRATING AEGON?
"I think anybody who has the darker side to them as the more prominent side — the side that people see first —there’s always a reason for that."
"I dug into that and found a lot of his boyish vulnerability, insecurities, and self-hatred — stuff that he’d been drip-fed his entire life."
"He wasn’t even a spare, you know? He was just completely ignored."
"He was invisible to most people, which is why he behaved in such a way — to numb himself."
But also to say: "Hey, I’m here as well."
"Any attention was good attention for Aegon."
"I find him less of a villain and more of a tragic case."
CAN YOU TALK A LITTLE BIT ABOUT WHY AEGON DECIDED TO FLY TO ROOK'S REST AT ALL?
"It was that moment — well, it’s an accumulation of moments — but that one in particular where Alicent says, 'Do exactly what is required of you: nothing'."
"That was the final dagger in the heart."
"A real cold reminder that he really is seen as being useless."
"A pawn for Alicent and Otto [Rhys Ifans] to use as a puppet."
"But at the end of the day, the law of the land states that he’s the monarch."
"He’s the king."
"He’s the person to call the shots."
"And no one’s gonna fucking stop him from getting on that dragon if he wants to."
"So he got absolutely obliterated drunk and thought, I’m gonna show them."
WHAT WAS YOUR EXPERIENCE LIKE SHOOTING THE BIG DRAGON FIGHT SCENE?
"Cool, man."
"It’s kind of a little boy’s dream."
"It’s just something that you think of when you’re a child as being the coolest thing in the world."
"And it really was."
"They basically build a screen around you so you know where to look: what’s expected, what’s coming at you, what’s leaving you."
"Your entire perspective is quite clear."
"And then amongst that, you’re clad in all this armor that has been expertly crafted by some amazing workmanship."
"But then again, you’re crouched over this big saddle, strapped in, feeling like you can’t move."
"That crane has really got a lot of work to do to make it look like you’re moving."
AT THE BEGINNING OF THE SEASON, AEGON SAYS THAT AEMOND IS HIS CLOSEST CONFIDANT, AND BY EPISODE FOUR, AEMOND HAS BASICALLY TRIED TO KILL HIM. WHERE DO THEY STAND NOW? AND WHAT'S YOUR RELATIONSHIP WITH EWAN MITCHELL, WHO PLAYS AEMOND?
"Oh, Aegon and Aemond’s relationship is very different to Tom and Ewan’s relationship."
"Let’s put that out there." [laughs]
"Look, that is sibling rivalry on a very intense scale, isn’t it? It’s the flip of the switch that can happen when somebody feels pushed out or somebody feels like there’s been injustice."
"I always felt like Aemond saw himself being in that position of power and dealing with it better than Aegon would deal with it."
"But then again, his birth certificate states otherwise."
"It was bound to happen at some point, wasn’t it?"
WAS THERE A PARTICULAR SCENE THAT YOU FELT EXTRA CHALLENGED BY OR INVIGORATED BY?
"He’s never in the same frame of mind twice in one day."
"He’s all over the place."
"Keeping up with his erratic mood swings was the hard part, and was this thing that I was having to stay really focused on."
"There wasn’t particularly one scene that I thought, Oh God, not this one, because all of them are challenging in different ways."
"Even the ones where he’s still and more focused are difficult, because you’ve got that sort of inner Aegon rhythm that is rapid."
"It’s very different to mine."
"It’s maintaining that, but still keeping the tension of the scene."
"I relished the opportunity to play someone with such range and creative potential from an acting point of view."
OLIVIA COOKE, WHO PLAYS ALICENT, HAS NOTED THAT YOU TWO ARE NOT VERY FAR APART IN AGE AT ALL, AND YET ARE PLAYING MOTHER AND SON. HOW DID YOU GUYS WORK TOGETHER TO CREATE THAT FILIAL DYNAMIC?
"Every scene that I’ve had with Olivia, there is never a moment that isn’t filled."
"Everything is just so complex and deeply entrenched in her."
"She means everything she says."
"It’s a rare skill to have."
"As an actor, she has that in truckloads."
"It’s a gift to be able to work with her, to play her son."
"Yeah, [it’s] hilarious."
"She’s only a year older than me."
"I think we manage it because we get on so well."
"We’re pals as well, you know."
"I love Olivia to bits."
"Trust her wholeheartedly."
"We have a laugh. We don’t take it too seriously."
"We have common ground on that."
"But then in the moments where the work is happening, it’s all we care about."
"We care immensely."
"It’s one of those things where in the downtime, after we wrap, we can go for a drink."
"We can have a laugh."
"We connect on a personal level as well as a professional level."
"I think that’s what sort of breeds a healthy and believable performance thing relationship-wise."
THERE'S AN AMUSING SCENE WHERE AEGON IS SITTING AROUND WITH THE LADS AND TALKING ABOUT WHAT HIS SOBRIQUET SHOULD BE. SHOULD HE BE 'AEGON THE BRAVE,' 'AEGON THE WHATEVER,' ETC. WHAT DO YOU THINK HE SHOULD BE CALLED?
"Aegon Toast, probably."
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strniohoeee · 28 days
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Should I?
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Pairing: Matt Sturniolo X Female, Chubby, WOC Reader
Synopsis: Y/N is scared to get a belly button piercing as she’s a bigger girl. But Matt doesn’t see an issue with it, actually he encourages her to get it. But will her fears stop her???
Warnings⚠️: None really, but there’s like freaky innuendos? Also this is like a blurb tbh😃
Song for imagine: Bound 2- Kanye West
I know you’re tired of loving
Of loving, with nobody to love
Nobody to, nobody
Uh huh honey….
I had always wanted a belly button piercing, but I always felt I was too heavy to get one. I mean I’ve seen many girls that were plus size with belly button piercings and they looked so good, but my dumb brain told me I’d look horrible.
When I was younger I hated my body, oftentimes I never even looked in the mirror. As I got older and put myself out there more that started to go away. And before I knew it I had loved my body. And because I was an influencer I was also able to help other people who looked just like me.
I had met Matt through Nick who swore up and down Matt and I were “destined to be”. I knew Matt was the tiniest triplet, so for a while I put off hanging out with him. Until one day I said fuck it, and here we were 2 years into a relationship.
Not once has he ever made a negative comment about my appearance, if anything he has made me love myself even more, and has even pushed me more out of my comfort zone.
Here and there their “fans” had some unkind words to say, and at times it did make me upset and had me questioning our relationship, but I snapped out of that quickly. Because Matt didn’t love me for my body, but for who I was inside. In his words I am “loving, intelligent, extremely funny, sassy and an amazing soul to be around”
So here I was sitting on my couch missing Matt as him and Chris were in Chicago for Summer Smash. I had spent the last two days with Nick and now I was home waiting three more days for my lover.
And all I kept thinking about was getting my bellybutton pierced. I knew exactly who I wanted to go to and everytime my finger lingered over the phone number I chickened out.
Nick had spent our two days hanging out convincing me I needed to get it done. He was a huge fan of me getting it done, but I was way too scared. Not from the pain, but how I’d look….
Opening the messages app I clicked on Matt’s contact
Matty 🧸
Me
Babeeeeeeeee
Matty🧸
Babeeeeeeee
What’s up??
Me
How’s your day been? I miss you😔
Matty🧸
It’s been good Chris
And I just got back from lunch
How’s your day? I miss you a lot
More👎🏽🫶🏽
Me
It’s good, I’m thinking about doing something, I need your advice. Maybe permission too?🤞🏽
Matty🧸
You never need my permission
to do anything, shoot!
Me
What if I get a belly button piercing today….
Matty🧸
I’d actually beg
On my knees for you
To do it🙏🏽
Me
Mmm maybe I will now😈
Matty🧸
Do send pics baby😫
Chris and I are about to
Head out for summer smash
I love you and I’ll talk to you
Tonight😘😘
Me
Okay my love, have fun and stay safe. Talk to you
Tonight 💕💕
For some reason this made me really want the piercing. Saying fuck it I called the shop and set up my appointment for later on in the day. I booked my appointment for 5pm since I had some errands to run today. Which was perfect because with the time difference it would be around 8-9 pm for Matt….
It was about 7pm when I finally got back to my apartment, so I knew Matt would be in their hotel room.
Standing in front of my body mirror I took a picture and sent it to him
Me
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Matty🧸
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Oh my fucking God-
My jaw dropped like actually
It looks so good
And you look so fucking beautiful
If Chris wasn’t in this room with me
We’d be having a special call….
I stopped to blush at his words…
Me
You’ll be home soon…and then we can take care of business….🫦🫦
After those messages all I could think about was Matt and how he’d act in person once he saw me. When they got back from Chicago he came over to my apartment.
And let’s just say he took care of business. The whole time he had us in front of the mirror as he sat and caressed my whole body, especially my stomach.
I felt sexy and loved and most importantly I felt beautiful. And he showed me how much he loved and missed me that whole night……
Who would’ve thought a body piercing could cause me to love myself even more…
The End
This was just something small and random I thought about. I lowkey want a belly button piercing as a chubby Latina girl🤌🏽 but we’ll see. Love yall dearly 🥹🖤
-J💅🏽
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sapphicantics · 3 months
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Two Sides of the Same Coin | Chapter One
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Pairing: Regina George x fem!reader
Summary: After a nobody destroys the Jocks and insults the Queen Bee without a care or an apology, you get catapulted to the top of the social food chain next to aforementioned Queen Bee, Regina George, who now has to learn to share the spotlight with North Shore’s new bad girl. | Or alternatively, your ‘don’t give a fuck’ attitude sucks you and Regina into each other’s worlds sending you down a path you never expected.
Chapter word count: 1.7k
Contents: vaping, underage drinking, mentions of weed, threats of violence, mentions of broken bones, shitty comebacks - I think that’s it, lemme know if I missed any
Note: Alright, I’m finally here with the first official chapter of Same Coin. Now I don’t know how often updates are gonna be for this fic but they will be coming, I’ve got so many ideas for it.
Intro - Chapter 2
— — — —
Menace is a bit of a crazy term to use to describe someone who sticks up for themself, but this is high school and everyone loves to exaggerate, especially boys with fragile egos who can’t stand the school knowing they got their asses kicked by a girl.
And when the girl is you — a girl who keeps to herself and minds her own fucking business like people should do any-fucking-way — oh, there’s bound to be countless descriptors thrown onto you to help rebuild their fragile masculinity.
Volatile, temperamental, crazy, psycho just to name a few.
You’re not sure how those are supposed to rebuild their masculinity, especially when you can just kick their asses and knock it right back down again. Despite those seemingly negative connotations that come with your new title, it does, admittedly, have a rather nice ring to it.
Anyways, nice ring or not, negative connotations or not, title or not, you’ve got far more important things to focus on instead.
Like why the fuck Charlie Hudson is in front of you right now.
It’s lunch and you’re under the bleachers with a strawberry flavored vape pen in hand. You take a hit and blow a cloud of smoke past your lips, raising a brow at him.
He doesn’t speak for a while probably assuming you’ll do so first, but you just take more hits from your vape and continue to stare at him. He approached you, he came over here to you, he’s interrupting your time so he must want something from you and he either tells you on his own or he doesn’t tell you at all. It makes no difference to you, but you’re definitely not gonna ask what he wants.
It’s only when you check your watch does he remember he’s on a time crunch and finally opens his mouth to speak. “I’m having a party tonight. I was thinking you could swing by for a bit.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Well, it’s gonna be a whole thing, you know?” No you don’t know, and that really doesn’t answer the question on why he’s inviting you or why he thinks you’d even want to go, but thankfully he continues. “Real big, real fun, real cool…” he reaches into his pocket, pulling his hand out and passing some cash over to you. “…really need someone to bring the Mary Jane.”
You tilt your head at him, looking between him and the cash before sliding your vape into your jacket pocket. You pluck the cash from his hands and flick through the stack. There’s a couple thousand dollars here — broken up into smaller bills because why not — a little over a thousand by your count, sixteen hundred to be exact, which is far more than you usually charge to supply a party, but if the rich boy wants to give you all his money then you’re not gonna stop him.
Perhaps, this might make you a thief to some, but really, what’s one more negative connotation added to your name?
You slip the cash in your pocket and nod. “I’ll be there at ten.”
He flashes you a smile as you walk past him and brush your shoulder against his. There’s no force behind it — okay there’s a little force behind it, not a lot though — but still he flinches at the pressure and you don’t miss the way he reaches up to rub at his shoulder out of your peripherals.
That reminds you that you need to make a few things clear. Well, one thing, specifically.
“Oh, and Charles?” He hates that name, thinks it makes him seem like an old man and what better way to ensure he knows you’re serious than calling him by his government. He seems to understand this as his eyes snap to yours and he tenses. “If North Shore wants a chance at making it to state this year, it’d be in your best interest to ensure your brother is on his best behavior tonight. Unless, of course, Lucas wants more broken bones. You got me?”
The bell rings behind you then, a seemingly ominous warning to the boy whose face is now alight with fear. You don’t bother waiting on a response, you know he’ll obey your wishes. You smirk and turn on your heels, disappearing into the school.
— — — —
You show up at 9:45.
Fifteen minutes before the agreed upon time, a rather gracious compromise in your opinion.
One you’re already starting to regret as you walk into the house.
The music is blasting so loud you can barely hear yourself think. The house stinks of sweat from the hundreds of people crowded around each other, dancing, singing, laughing, and making out.
Everyone is drunk — some way more wasted than others — but somehow they all seem to sense your presence and part for you like the Red Sea. Some of them even turn their heads to see if it’s really you before quickly looking away and whispering to their friends.
You roll your eyes at that and Charlie takes this moment to finally make his appearance, trudging his way out of the kitchen. He makes a detour once he spots you and after a quick greeting, he leads you out to the backyard. “You got the stuff?”
“What a stupid question,” you scoff. “You think I’d take your money and then show up to this party empty handed with this duffle just for fun?”
You shrug the bag off and place it on the ground between the two of you, unzipping it as you do so. Inside is a bunch of pre-rolled joints and plenty of bags of weed for those who prefer to use a bong. There’s some rolling papers in there so people can roll their own joints, but you’re pretty sure if anyone does rolls their own joints tonight they are not using the weed you bought — because they don’t trust you so they won’t trust the weed you bought, and also no one goes to a party without their own weed. On the off chance that they do use yours, however, the necessary supplies are there.
Charlie whistles at the haul, eyes wide, clearly not having expected this much from you, but that’s not really surprising.
“Damn, I knew you were a pothead but that’s pathetic even for you.”
It is surprising, however, that Charlie took time out of his day to summon an actual demon from hell to this party.
You say this out loud. On purpose. Because it’s your mouth and you’ll say whatever you want.
“What the fuck did you just say?”
You turn your head to see none other than the devil herself, Regina George, glaring at you.
“You fucking heard me, Regina. You’re a demon and you should go crawl back into whatever fiery pit of hell you came out of.”
“Yikes, someone’s feeling dramatic today. But if I left, who would teach you how to dress?”
You chuckle and shove your hands into your pants pockets. “Rather presumptuous of you to assume I would want fashion advice from someone who looks like a copy and paste Barbie doll.”
“Oh, sweetie, it’s adorable that you think your opinion matters-,”
You hold your hand up to stop any further comments and start talking over Regina, effectively cutting her off and shutting her up. “I’m so glad you said that because your opinion does not matter at all, not to me especially when I didn’t even ask, and acting like it does is only going to do you a disservice so I’m gonna go ahead and let you know - I don’t care and you can keep the rest of your shitty opinions to yourself.”
Regina scowls and steps into your personal space, pointing her finger at you, inches away from jabbing into your skin. She’s towering over you slightly and now that she’s so close, you have to tilt your head up to hold eye contact with her. “Listen here you little bitch-,”
For the second time in less than a minute, you cut Regina off, smirking at the little vein that bulges on her forehead. “No, I don’t think I will, actually.”
Regina is about to blow. You can see it in her eyes, in the way her shoulders are so tense, and if you can see it so can anyone else in the vicinity. You lean closer, lowering your voice to a whisper so only she can hear. “Be honest, are you just mad this shirt got to come out of the closet, and you didn’t?”
Regina’s hands are fast.
SMACK!
But so are yours.
You catch her wrist in your hand before her open palm can collide with your cheek, the sound echoing like a gunshot in the backyard. A hush falls around those outside and you feel dozens of eyes lock on the two of you.
Regina tries to pull her hand away and you tighten your grip in response - not enough to leave marks or to cause pain, just enough so she’s forced to stay where she is.
She glares at you, her eyes alight with fury and jaw tense. The air crackles with the intensity of her anger, and you can feel the heat of her rage radiating towards you. But there’s no backing down now.
“Enough, Regina!” you snap, your voice firm and unyielding. “This isn’t the time or place for this!”
Her eyes narrow, and for a moment, it seems like she might explode again. But you hold your ground, your own anger flaring to match hers.
“We’re not doing this,” you continue, your tone brooking no argument. “Not here, not now.”
She looks ready to argue, but you cut her off, stepping forward with a fierce determination. “Back off, Regina. We’ll settle this later.”
The tension hangs thick in the air, but she finally takes a step back and you release her, her jaw still clenched. Without waiting for her to respond, you turn on your heel and stride away, your heart pounding with the adrenaline of the confrontation.
You venture inside and slip into the kitchen, grabbing a beer. You down it in one go and grab another one for the road before leaving out the front door.
It’s gonna be a hell of a day tomorrow.
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