#once again. always quick for a marketing opportunity.

[ratatatastic]

it gets better actually

“I love you, baby." "Say it into the mic! Say it to the mic! Tell me you love me!” “I did, I did, I did!” “You did? Okay, perfect.” “The whistle here.” (loses faceoff) “Bah! I love you a little less!”

[bluejeanstrash]

inspired by this and this (sfw)

tags: idol! seungcheol x idol! reader, reader is a certified brat, brat taming, seungcheol and reader are hooking up, use of oppa and hyung, suggestive conversation | wc: 1.4k

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

seungcheol swears he’s mistaken when he hears the first paparazzi call your name. but there it is again, and again, and by the time the crowd is screaming hysterically, he’s sure it must be you. he turns around as he’s being escorted into the venue to see you on the red carpet, waving to the cameras, posing with a poise only a professional idol has. you look jaw-droppingly good, and he curses at the fact that he only got to see you for two seconds.

things work out in his favour though. he reaches his table to see a place card with your name on it. idols seated together. not a bad marketing decision.

unlike the vibrant red carpet, the inside of the venue is dim, a velvety purple hue painting the room, and there’s a dj whose set suits seungcheol’s taste. it’s nice being here after months of hiatus, and it would be even nicer if you’d get here quicker. your group and seventeen were contemporaries, and pretty good friends, though in the public eye it seemed like you’d barely interacted. everyone wanted to keep it that way.

finally, after what feels like hours, you walk in, heads turning as you make your way to the table. he checks you out, slowly this time, blown away by just how incredible you look. your dress is sensual yet subtle, and his hands are itching to feel the fabric, and you under it. you’re a few steps away when you pause, spotting him, equally surprised to see him here. you would rarely cross paths during schedules, so this was unusual.

respectful bows are exchanged before you take a seat. a waiter comes by to drop off glasses of champagne, and you take that as an opportunity to check seungcheol out. all black everything with faded auburn hair looks very sexy on him. you make a quick decision about what you want him to do to you in this outfit.

‘i didn’t know you were attending. just you?’ he asks politely, in stark contrast to how impolitely he'd fucked you the last time you met.

‘just me. just you?’

‘and wonwoo. wonwoo!’ seungcheol waves him down as wonwoo makes his way to the table, taking a seat to your other side.

‘hyung, they need you for some solo press’ he informs and seungcheol is escorted away by his manager.

in the 10 to 15 minutes that seungcheol’s gone, you make small talk with wonwoo, touching on agency-approved topics like comebacks, dance challenges, and the like. topics that wouldn’t cause an internet meltdown when someone would inevitably zoom into your lips and try to breakdown every word being said.

what you’d actually been dying to discuss with wonwoo was his latest fling, and why he’d ghosted them, but that’s filed away for another day.

seungcheol returns with a second drink in his hand, and message for wonwoo ‘wonwoo-ya, they’re calling you now. do well’ he encourages like always.

seungcheol takes a seat beside you, close enough to dispel any negative rumours and far enough to not get pulled into dating ones.

‘have you finished press?’

‘what?’ you lean forward, the music too loud to speak at a distance. he does the same, almost placing his hand on your thigh but he catches himself in the last second, closing his palm into a loose fist and resting it on the table. seungcheol repeats his question, and you nod. yes, you’re done with press.

‘there are way too many cameras here’ he recognises a few fans who run his biggest fansites, all “discreetly” pointing huge DSLRs in his direction. he has to be careful not to accidentally touch you. not to do something that makes both your names start trending tonight.

‘are you done with schedule? what are you doing after this?’ he gives your dress a once over, trying to figure out how to undo it. there’s a complicated knot at the back which makes him eager to try.

the corners of your mouth curl into a playful smile before you take a sip of the bubbly. the sparkling gold goes down easy, and your words come out smooth,

‘you’

his eyes widen as the gulp of champagne he’s taking enters the wrong pipe, sending him into a tiny coughing fit. his eyes dart around the room to see if anyone caught that.

he takes another sip to recover, regaining any composure lost. then he leans in, plump cherry lips brushing against your ear ‘don’t say shit like that when we’re in public or i swear to god’

he sits back, adjusting the fall of his suit, and runs his fingers nervously through his thick hair which bounces right back into place.

this time you lean in completely, seungcheol refusing to meet you halfway, your earrings dangling with the motion ‘or what? what’s oppa going to do to me? punish me for being bad?’ you have a dangerous lilt in your tone that makes his dick throb.

‘stop. it.’ he mouths a warning. as if that has ever made a difference.

to seungcheol’s surprise, you had turned out to be quite a handful. you were different from your idol image. same, but different. he’d liked you instantly when you’d met outside work at his manager’s party and one thing led to another till you both had hooked up. he couldn’t believe it. you were two of his favourite things — a brat and a nasty slut combined into one gorgeous woman, and seungcheol wouldn’t have it any other way.

though, right now he could, because at this moment you were a pain in the ass and a throb in his dick, both of which he couldn’t afford. it’s not like he could refuse to engage in conversation with you. how bad would that look? so he stays still, listening to whatever lewd filth you’re whispering into his ear.

‘oppa, you know that thing you said you wanted to try with me? you wanted to put it inside my…while you turned on the vibrator in my other hole? can we try it? please?’ you leave your words vague, his imagination running wild. he’s going to kill you. it can’t get any worse, he thinks, but then the music changes.

an rnb song. no, an rnb song that’s no. 24 on your blended spotify sex playlist. in a biological reaction that would make pavlov proud, his cock starts to stiffen in his pants from the very first note. he catches your eye, looking away instantly. this is bad. this is very bad.

in an attempt to hide the tent that’s pitching in his pants, seungcheol crosses one leg over the other, taking further precautions to cover his crotch with a drape of his arms. it’s clear to you what’s happening, and if it wasn’t obvious enough he starts bouncing his knee, moving it a million times a minute. he’d read somewhere it gets rid of an unwanted erection, but it seems to be doing jack shit.

you lean back, amused, smoothing a flyaway hair, and elegantly throw your sleek locks over your shoulder to reveal a hint of your cleavage. seungcheol has spent a lot of time in there — kissing, licking, sucking…and shooting cum on that strip of skin. you know what you’re doing. he knows what you’re doing. the waiter who just walked past knows what you’re doing. seungcheol makes a mental note to tell his manager not to book you both at the same event ever again.

he tears his gaze away from your chest, focusing on the table in front of him. how many overlapping stitches can he see? he counts.

but you’re not done yet. no, you want him riled up and pissed off. you want that vein in his neck to pop. you wonder if you can run the risk of sliding your foot up his leg. probably not, and yet a second later the point of your heel slides up the inner seam of his pants, making him jump in his chair.

his jaw clenches, his neck tightens ‘that’s enough, you fucking brat’ he spits, forgetting to lean in or hide his mouth.

you grin impishly, taking a congratulatory sip of your champagne. he doesn’t know this but you’re soaking wet, your panties sticking uncomfortably to your cunt. riling him up always made you leak arousal in anticipation for the impending punishment.

unfortunately, before you can get a teaser of what’s to come, wonwoo returns, walking alongside your manager. you’ve done your part, made your appearance, and it’s time to leave, he says. you say your goodbyes, first to wonwoo, and then turn to seungcheol who lets out a small huff of air before standing up. he smiles for the cameras and bows, glaring at you as you lock eyes and whispers,

‘you’re in so much trouble’

[st4rfckerz]

October 18th - Cockbulge

Hay Bale (farmhand!anakin)

word count: 0.7k

warnings: mdni 18+, unprotected sex, dirty talk, pet names

The sun rises, casting a warm glow over the barn. Anakin's hands grip your waist, his fingers digging into your flesh as he thrusts into you. The bale of hay beneath you crinkles, the scent of hay and sweat filling the air. His cock pounds into you, hitting your favorite with each movement. You moan, your back arching, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“Fuck Ani,” you gasp, your voice hoarse. “More, please.” He obliges, his hips slamming against yours, his cock driving deeper into you.

“Thaaat's it, sweet pea,” he growls, his voice deep and commanding. “Take it, let me feel you around me.”

Earlier that morning, your parents had left to go to the market, leaving you and Anakin alone in the house. You had been eager to spend some time with him, and the opportunity presented itself perfectly.

As soon as you told Anakin that your parents would be gone for a few hours, a sly glint appeared in his eyes. He pulled you closer, his hands roaming over your warm skin and without warning, he laid you down on the soft hay, his body hovering over yours. His hands slid up your thighs, pushing your pretty white dress up to your waist.

Anakin's hands caress your body as he continues to thrust into you, his movements quick and deliberate. You can feel every inch of him, the way he stretches you, fills you, takes you.

“Always so ready for me, huh?” he grits through his teeth. “As soon as your parents leave, you're all over me.” His voice sends a shiver down your spine, your body responding to his words as much as his actions. You arch your back, pressing your hips against his, urging him to go deeper.

Anakin hooks your leg over his shoulder, changing the angle of his thrusts. You gasp, the new position hitting a spot deep inside you that makes you throw an arm across your face, your fingers digging into your palm. Your moans grow louder, more desperate, as he hits that sweet spot inside you over and over again.

A knowing chuckle falls from his lips. “See, there you go, I knew you’d like that.” he growls, his hips snapping forward, driving his cock deeper into you. Anakin's eyes pan down to the bulge in your belly, truly amazed at the way he's stretching you. He slows down his movements and marvels at the sight.

“Look at that baby," he coos. “ ‘M filling you up so good.” He runs his fingers over the bulge, tracing its outline through your skin. “I can feel how tight you are around me.” You moan, your body trembling at his touch.

“Ani please,” you whimper, your voice barely audible. “Need to cum so bad.”

Anakin presses his hand against the bulge he's created in your stomach, applying pressure as his thrusts pick up pace once more, his cock plunging into you with renewed vigor. “I know angel, go on ‘nd cum for me.”

As your orgasm crashes over you, your body shaking and trembling beneath him, Anakin suddenly pulls out. You whimper at the loss, but he quickly silences you with a hungry kiss.

“Hold on baby, jus’ stay still for me.” he mumbles against your lips. He strokes his cock, his hand moving rapidly up and down his shaft. His eyes are fixed on your trembling body, his gaze intense and focused.

With a final, quick stroke of his hand, his cum spurts right on your stomach. He watches as it drips down your skin, a satisfied smirk on his face.

As you both come down from your highs, Anakin's breathing slowly returns to normal. He leans down, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. “Here, I’ll get that.” he chuckles, his voice soft and affectionate. He reaches over to a nearby shelf, grabbing a clean rag and gently wipes the cum off your stomach, his touch tender and caring.

“There, all better,” he says softly, tossing the rag aside. He leans down, pressing a kiss to your lips. “You should probably get dressed before your folks get back,” he suggests.

You nod, a lazy smile on your face. “Yeah, probably a good idea,” you agree, stretching languidly. Anakin helps you straighten out your dress, his hands lingering on your waist.

“Don’t stay away too long sweetheart.” he says, his voice low and intimate. You stand on your tiptoes, placing a soft kiss on his lips. “Not planning on it.” you murmur, a playful glint in your eyes.

With a final squeeze of your hand, you make your way back to the house, a spring in your step and a smile on your face.

[aggieharkness]

Have I earned it, mother? Chp. 4

Pairing: Avis Amberg x reader

Summary: Avis has had a really shitty day at work, and to top it all off she finds you at the gas station with Ernie, which pisses her even further. Obviously, the only logical thing to do is to pick you up so you can take her to Dreamland. Whether you are on contract or not, superfluous to the situation.

Warnings: smut (+18), affair, swearing, oral (Avis receiving), fingering (Avis receiving), oral (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), mommy kink, praise kink, degrading kink, pet names, tit play, proper dom/sub situation, spanking, bondage, overstimulation, near fainting experience. Consent is sexy people!!!

Authors note: At last, I have finished this chapter. It has taken me a bit longer because I was two seconds away from overworking myself into a mental breakdown, but here we are. I had to do proper research for the topic that I've written, but I understand that this whole thing might not be everyone's cup of tea, still I hope you like it. As always, be gentle but tell me If I need to be more graphic, if I'm lacking on something. I am here for you, my dear people, I listen. I also accept ideas that you might have or things that you might want to see Avis and reader do. Also available on Ao3. Finally, let's thank Patti Lupone for giving us Avis Amberg.

Chp. 1 Chp. 2 Chp. 3 Chp.5 Chp.6

Word count: 17K (I've tried but I can't write short stuff for the life of me)

Love requires some spice

-These accounts look really good Ernie. You’ve recovered quite well since the spike in prices during the war, almost as if it never happened.

-What can I say kiddo, I got reliable customers.

Ernie’s office was tidy, only a few cigarette butts on an astray and a few oil stains on the carpet that he had tried to get professional cleaned but wouldn’t budge, the door left wide open so he could check on his business, both of them. It was a regular thing for you to come by his gas station and check on the accounts for him, making sure everything was up to date, that none of his boys was stealing from him, which had happened a few times before, wrapping up the numbers of the previous year so he could start clean once again. He was a nice, good friend that had lent you a helping hand when you had first arrived, lost and unsure what you were supposed to do with your life. You had become his secretary for a few weeks before you had moved to working alongside his boys, though not for long, there wasn’t much market for ladies that take care of other ladies. Still coming by years after that, was no effort, you liked being away form the studio now that everything was so hectic, the smell of oil and rubber a great change from stuffy perfumes and overpriced colognes. There was only one thing currently missing from your life that upset you enough to actually spend such a beautiful day inside this office. You had not seen Avis in over a week, and it was getting a bit under your skin, probably hers as well if the quick longing glares she threw your way when you happened to cross each other’s paths, only for a few seconds, were any indication.

-You can say that again. I’ll just do the math, fill up my book and be on my merry way.

-Whatever you need to do Y/N, you know I love having you around to give me an interesting topic of conversation. None of the “I’ve come here to become an actress, to fulfil a dream” talk that I hear all the time from my boys. No, you come and talk about the stock market and other stuff that makes me wonder where you read about all that.

-The hairdresser I go to has some interesting magazines.

He chuckled at your comment, standing from his chair and heading to rest his back against the doorframe, observing the cars that came and went, popping a cigarette out of his pocket and lighting in. As much as he loved what he did you knew he missed the opportunity of becoming something more, something great on a screen, to have his name up in lights on marquees and posters. He wasn’t a bad actor, he just didn’t have the same chances others around him had had, which in your most humble opinion was a shame. He was a good actor, he had to be as a gigolo, made sure he kept his clientele happy and with a good chance of returning, but it wasn’t exactly what he had dreamt about since he was a kid. But you could not deny that his current line of business was doing great, your eyes drifting to the wiggly lines that were written before you, even if Avis had not come to visit him since she had got with you, her last boy, Jack, forgotten in a corner of her mind along with the rest of them. She had no need for them anymore, you filled up all her emotional needs and sexual cravings without issue. Ernie tapped the butt of his cigarette, ash falling on the floor, before turning his head towards you again, that charming smile gracing his lips.

-Now, how’s the studio, everything going well?

-As expected, I mean the atmosphere is rather strange among the higher ups but everything else remains the same. Well, not everything. Avis is busting her ass off all the time, and I hardly get see her at all. I think the last time was like a week ago and we only had a short lunch date because she had a meeting, and she had to rush off.

-She was never good with pressure; she tends to let it crush her and by the time she realises, she’s already under the rubble. I saw it happen when she first had her kid, she was so run down that I thought she would drop dead right in front of me. You trying to help her?

-Of course, but Miss Kincaid is keeping me busy, and I haven’t had the chance to go up to Avis’s office yet. I was thinking of doing something on the weekend now that the weather is getting nicer. Maybe a picnic or take her down to the beach, what do you think?

-A date with you in public? No offense kid, but she’ll kill you. – the sound of a car arriving had him tear his eyes from you to take a look, puffing some smoke out of his nostrils. He signalled to a blond man that was sitting by the door to attend to the lady, waving his hand at the woman that was in the car, though from your position you could not see how it was. Ernie quickly returned to the conversation. -I’m pretty sure she loves to be with you, but photographers lurk in every corner and now that she’s in control of the studio, even more. She’s a good woman but she’s also a very important woman.

-I suppose you are right. Things were easier when Mr. Amberg was still around.

-I never thought I’d see the day when someone actually said that they missed Ace Amberg.

-I don’t miss him; I miss how easy he made it for me to be and sleep with his wife. – the snort that he gave startled you at first, but upon repeating the words in your head you realised just how it must have sounded, after all it was pretty odd the situation you and Avis had and what role her husband played in all of it. A small chuckle escaped from your lips after a moment, your hand on your forehead rubbing the skin. - Okay, that sounded really weird. All I want is to be able to make her relax, let her hair down even if its only for a minute. This job is going to kill her if she doesn’t stop a little.

-That’s Avis alright, she speeds down the freeway and doesn’t brake until the very last minute, if she brakes.

-How about a date at her place? We could have a picnic in her own garden. No photographers, no worries and she’s in a comfortable environment that will make her feel relaxed.

-Now, that’s an idea. -he stubbed the cigarette with his foot before walking out into the workshop, you following suit to keep the conversation going. The warmth of the sun was a welcome change from the cold that had settled in the first few weeks of January, now pushed to only a few hours during the night before the sun came out and made the entirety of Hollywood forget their coats and pick up jackets. It kissed your skin gently over your white cardigan and flowy baby blue dress. Ernie kept talking, moving from adjusting a few screws on the carburettor of an old Mercedes to starting an oil change on a newer Lincoln continental. - I swear if I had a branch in this business just for dates, you would crack it kid. My number one star, wooing ladies like its Valentines Day.

-Don’t give me any ideas or I might do the numbers and see how much it could earn us.

-If it’s a lot, go for it. – he laughed loudly, his voice muffled slightly by the metal hood above his head. He started speaking again a few instants later, your hand resting on the side of the car as you took the sun in, but your gaze moved towards his legs, the only thing you could see of him, as his tone was now a bit different, more serious, as if he actually wanted to get an honest answer to his question. -How is Avis handling everything?

-She was socked about it all at first, devastated when she thought she might become a widow; she wasn’t sure she could handle being the wife of the late Mr. Amberg, although he’s not dead, yet anyway. She was upset that her daughter didn’t seem affected, but now they are both doing rather well. Avis moved from the panic of having to plan a funeral onto the panic of running the studio pretty fast, but you know, her and Ace…

-Yeah. It was way worse in the beginning, when she still thought he might love her back. It was horrible to see her coming to me crying, heartbroken. Now they could kill each other if they were not civilised. He hurt her pretty badly and she won’t ever forgive him. It was a shitty ride for her, no wonder she’s moved on so fast from his heart attack.

-She still goes to see him when she can, Miss Kincaid told me, but she doesn’t stay too long. She practically goes to see if he’s still alive and then goes home. She probably talks to him a little, but not much more than that. I mean he can’t talk back to her; she’s probably telling him all the shit that she’s always wanted to scream at him, letting all the anger out. Even though she hates him, she stills cares enough to not want him to die.

-She’s always going to care. She loved him, that’s not something easy to forget, at least for some people. But you don’t have anything to worry about, she’s not going to push away and hop back into the arms of her husband the minute he wakes up. You are doing her a lot of good and my business a lot of damage.

-Sorry not sorry, but you know I’m good and that I keep my ladies satisfied, at least this one in particular for the foreseeable future, if not forever. You are going to have to find yourself another Avis that pays well and comes frequently.

-Does she have any friends that are exactly like her?

-Oh, no, Ernie. She’s one of a kind.

The sound of a motor made you turn, that well known black Cadillac pulling into the station and parking on pump one. You felt your heart leap in your chest, a stupid smile plastered on your lips. Avis was right there, behind the wheel, her sunglasses on, leopard print hat pinned on the side of her hair, her hands, covered by her bright magenta gloves, resting over the wheel. You noticed how her stand was rigid; it was quite obvious to eyes like yours that were attentive to her every little detail, from the way her lips were curled into a thin line to how hard she was holding onto the steering wheel, her knuckles probably white under her gloves. You kicked Ernie with your foot, signalling for him to get out from under the car, his eyes landing straight on Avis as soon as he pushed himself off the floor, wiggling his eyebrows at you as he made his way to his best client, that charming smile faltering a bit when he greeted her and she only bit back with an order to fill up the tank. Oh, she was mad, like really pissed, someone must have upset her greatly at the office today, you thought. Ernie was still trying to talk with her, make conversation you gathered by the way his mouth was moving, and like a resort Avis suddenly whipped her head to meet you, pushing her glasses down to reveal a pair of beautiful big brown eyes wide open, surprised and slightly shocked at seeing you there. You could not tell if she was upset that you were there, but she moved her hand over the car door and motioned for you to approach her. You obeyed without complain, your flats making no sound against the grey floors and road as you walked to meet her, Ernie continuing to fill the tank as if he had not just ratted you out to your girlfriend. It’s not that you didn’t want to see her, but you kind of didn’t want her to find you here, of all places, after all you had not told her about your first job in Hollywood yet.

-What the hell are you doing here? – okay, she was mad at you now as well, brilliant. You gave her one of your charming smiles, innocent and proper, her submissive little girl but it didn’t seem to do you any good, she still looked at you with fury in her eyes as she removed her sunglasses all together. Did she think you were actually working here?

-I’m simply helping Mr. West with the accounts, ma’am.

-Do you think me stupid? – her eyes were narrow as she bent over the car door, her face a foot from yours, her perfume mingling with yours perfectly as you breathed it in, a shiver running down your spine when she lifted her hand and grabbed the collar of your dress yanking you hard until only a few inches separated her from you. She was delighted to see you, that Avis could not deny, but she was beyond livid at finding you here looking completely relaxed, at home. You were not one to engage with gigolos but you clearly knew Ernie well enough that he would allow you to be around like this, which meant you had to be providing a service, or a favour, her eyes looking at you with a mix of anger and lust, the fabric of her glove touching the flesh of your collarbone drawing goosebumps. If only her hands were touching you without the magenta barrier, you thought. – How many women have you fucked while you are supposed to be with me Y/N?

-None, ma’am. I’m not on contract here. I’m simply helping with accounts I promise.

So, you weren’t working here, you were only doing maths, okay, she could live with that, not that the idea of picking you up from here so you could indeed provide her with a certain type of service didn’t excite her. You were such a proper girl all the time, the affair that you were having with her aside, of course, you never did anything that could be considered naughty, not that she knew of, at least, but Avis’s mind was already imagining you walking towards her in a tight uniform, charming her, showing off your assets so she would pick you over any of the other boys in that station. She got hot under her own collar, your sweet eyes doing things to her that should be illegal, her mind racing through all the scenarios that she could come up with, all the things she could to you, that she would do to you.

-I can vouch for her, Avis, she hasn’t…

-Quiet, Ernie. – she lifted a hand towards him while still holding you in front of her, the man picking up the husky tone that laced her command, closing his mouth and wrapping up his job at the pump before locking the fuel deposit. It was so easy for her anger to turn into lust and desire when you were involved, that delightful dress you were wearing showing off your cleavage perfectly for her eyes to feast on, your breaths rapid under her touch. She could picture you popping a button open so your ample breasts would claim her eyes, all her attention. – Are you such a slut that you need to come here? Have others fuck you until you can’t take it anymore? Until you are satiated?

-No ma’am, you are the only one who touches me and you keep me perfectly satisfied every time.

-Is that so? – her voice was so low, so full of lust and power that you could feel your body reacting profoundly to her words, her hand letting go of your dress as she rested her body back against her car seat and yet you did not move, you only bent forward a bit more seeking her touch, her closeness. She thrived in the way you were so eager to have her, that you were such a submissive little girl for her. She smirked, moving her glasses back over her nose but not over her eyes, still fully taking you in, your eyes locking with hers, her pupils dilated and full of desire. You didn’t think she was into role play, but it was clear that this entire thing was heading that way, and you were not against it at all. - Well, I’m far from satisfied right now.

-Are you ma’am? We can’t have that, can we?

-Are you on the clock girl? – she picked up her purse, pulling out her cigarette case, but your hand gently shot to grab it, pushing it to the side. No need to blow up the station. She picked up on what you meant by that simple movement and left it fall over the dark leather of her car, pulling out a twenty-dollar bill from her purse instead and placing it underneath the strap of your bra making sure to brush the top of your breast before sitting back, pointing her head towards Ernie who was back in the workshop overlooking the entire interaction. – I need more than just my car pumped.

-For you I’m always on the clock, ma’am.

-Good then. I wish for you to take me to Dreamland girl, I believe mama has some pent up tension that she needs to release.

It took you a second to run towards Ernie to hand him the twenty, returning to Avis’s car without slipping over any puddles of oil. Upon reaching the Cadillac you pushed your hair back and smoothed your dress, walking slowly around the hood of the vehicle making sure to sway your hips to give her a show and oh, did she feast on you. Her eyes followed your frame so closely, her lower lip in between her teeth, the temperature around you both spiking. You slipped beside her, your dress bunching up over your upper thighs, which you were going to correct after closing the door, but she stopped you, placing both your hands against the leather of the seat on each side of you, her face inches from yours. You saw the way she stared at your lips, but she didn’t kiss you, couldn’t kiss you here for everyone to see so she pulled back. Lever down, car in first gear and Avis practically flew away from the station, Ernie laughing and waving at you both as he watched the car vanish around the corner before returning to his office. You had left the accounting records on a chair right there, but it did not matter, you were going to be busy for a while, he hardly thought your priority would be the station’s numbers. The road Avis was driving on was not the usual way she took to get to her place, but upon glancing at a sign you saw that it was the way to the Beverly Hills Hotel. It was risky to go with her to such a public place but then again you knew she was a bit of an exhibitionist, maybe the idea of the press seeing her with you turned her on, it sure turned you wild with desire, but you did not move your hands, as much as you wanted to run them up her thighs while she drove. She felt your eyes racking over her body, the need for you building deep within her core blending with the anger she still felt from the horrid day she had had.

Ever since her husband had had his heart attack, fucking Lon Silver was just stuck to her back, like a shadow following her everywhere she went. He drove her insane with the way he talked as if she was dumb, as if he was the only one who could take care of the studio when Ace had left it to her, not him, but of course he was overstepping, like always, trying to get her to quit or for her to turn the job to somebody else he could get to do his bidding. No fucking way, not while there was still breath in her body. She wasn’t doing any of this because the studio was Ace’s life work, she didn’t give a shit whether he would like what she was doing or not once he woke up, if he woke up, she just wanted to either wipe that fucking smirk off of Lon’s face or wipe him of the face of the Earth all together. She could not quite decide which would bring her more satisfaction. She felt the anger rising again, steaming out of every single pore in her body as it became stiff on her seat, which you quickly picked up on.  Her eyes were glued to the road, speeding down the avenue without so much as glancing your way trying to tempt you, test you and see if you wanted her as much as she wanted you like she would have done under other circumstances. You knew you could ask her exactly what she desired you to do, if there was anything she wanted to release some of the tension, but you did not want her to get frustrated by your questions seeing as her mind had raced back to whatever had happened to her throughout the day pissing her off once more. With careful movements  your hand made contact with the fabric of her stocking, under her skirt and over her right thigh; her breath hitched in her lungs but she did not push you away, your fingers rubbing and kneading the flesh, moving it upwards very slowly savouring the hums that she was making, a gasp escaping her when you brushed them on her inner thigh, fingering the top lace of her stocking.

You were supposed to take her to Dreamland, no? Might as well start relaxing her from the very beginning. You scooped your body closer to hers, your thigh practically touching hers without stopping your movements that had now turned towards the in between of her legs, inching closer and closer to her centre but never touching her; you only wanted to relax her, there would be plenty of time for you to tease her and please her later. Your head moved to the crook of her neck, pecking the skin above her coat and outfit, a quiet moan slipping through her slightly ajar lips. You were pushing your luck with this behaviour since the top of the car was down, your actions out for the world to see, but Avis couldn’t care less, your tender kisses seeping under her skin, the tension slipping out of her shoulders and limbs. You were just what the doctor ordered, and it had been too long since you two had been together, she needed every bit of attention you were giving her, that she allowed you to give her. For now.  Even her foot lifted a little from the accelerator letting the car slow down as the hotel came into view a few yards away. You had to pull away, much to her dismay, when the people on the streets became too many for you to continue, Avis swerving and stopping the car by the front doors. While she stepped out of the vehicle to pull a suitcase from the trunk before throwing her keys to a young valet you slipped from the passenger’s seat as the perfect image of a proper lady, hands clasped in front of you, coming to meet Avis by the front doors, her head motioning for you to follow her.

The lobby was spectacular, the walls and floors dressed in white marble with a round area in the centre framed by four columns that fit the same theme, separating a round zone with armchairs from the rest of the room. There were glass tables spread all throughout with vases of fresh flowers that diffused sweet floral aromas all throughout the lounge, carpets that were probably worth more than your entire apartment covering the marble patterned floors, a beautiful glass chandelier topping of the majesty of the room. You had never been here before, you had heard of it and had seen it upon passing by, but you had never ever been in there, which made this whole experience with Avis a thousand times better. People greeted her as she made her way to the front desk, smiling politely and stepping aside as if she owned the place, who knew maybe she did, everything was possible were Avis was concerned, the man that was sitting behind the counter smiling and handing her a key without so much as an explanation. It was clear they knew her enough to not ask unnecessary questions, as if she had done this before, which you knew she had, it was no secret for you that Avis had frequented the gas station for more than gas, though now it was not necessary. You knew she had brought all those boys here but none of them shared with her what you did, none of them mattered to her one single bit. She did care for Ernie, they had been friends and sex partners for over a decade now, but he had made it very clear to you when you had told him that you and Avis were a thing that he had no interest in being with her romantically, that he was still waiting for the one that would make him retire and much to his dismay she was not the one.   

Being shown towards the elevators you could not help but feel that this time things were special. You did not feel cheap or upset that you both were role playing like this, she wasn’t treating you like someone who was going to offer her a service and call it a day, no she made sure to always keep an eye on you, to signal you to walk beside her, never a few steps behind like at the beginning of your relationship, to make you feel protected and cared for. She was not going to do anything that could make you feel bad simply because she wanted to, this was a partnership and if you didn’t feel comfortable, she wasn’t going to push her needs and wants onto you the same way that she expected you to not cross lines with her. But by the way your eyes were glinting under the light of the lamps on the wall as the sun began to go down, afternoon blending into evening, she was sure you were excited and filled with anticipation and desire, wondering where the night might take you. You noticed the way she kept you close to her, her hands brushing yours as you stepped into the elevator, Avis pushing the button for the second floor, but since she had sped away from the station, she hadn’t uttered a single word. It intrigued you why she would not engage you in some sort of playful banter, but she wasn’t mad, her body was relaxed, and her fingers toyed with your fingers and the fabric of your cardigan, throwing glances behind her sunglasses that you could feel in your bones. What was going through that pretty head of hers?

The bell of the elevator rang signalling it had arrived at the desired destination, its doors opening for the two of you to reveal a set of stairs draped in a beautiful green carpet that extended all along an empty foyer, not a soul in sight. Your heart skipped a beat when you felt her hand holding onto yours, her steps calm and steady as you both walked down the hallway, the carpet decorated with a diagonal pattern you noticed upon glancing down to the floor following the movement of Avis’s legs and hips, the walls painted with big banana leaves over a light pink background. She pulled you past door after door until you both reached the opposite side of the hallway, a big window letting the warm sunlight through a set of thin white curtains, its yellowish beams reflecting on a white door situated on the left side, hidden behind a corner. Of course they would give her a secluded room. She let go of you to push the key in and open the doors, pulling you in gently, a smirk on her lips. You could see her fangs through her ajar mouth, her hands pushing you against the now closed door after dropping the suitcase unceremoniously on the floor, her face inches from yours. You thought she was going to crash her lips against your mouth and kiss you until you lost your mind, but you were proved mistaken when instead she kissed your cheek and with slow agonizing pecks she travelled down your jawline, a gasp sliding out of your throat when you felt her tongue lick the underside of your jaw and the flesh of your upper neck. Your hands were pressed against the wood, itching to touch her but something in the back of your mind told you that she would not allow it.  

Just as unexpectedly as she had pressed you against the door she pulled away and began to walk towards the living area of the suite. You had not had time to look around, not that you could pay much attention to the light pink coloured walls and matching furniture set, as your eyes were glued to Avis as she removed the coat off her shoulders, draping it over the back of an armchair, unpinned her hat and removed her gloves, both items resting on a small white coffee table in between the easy chairs before turning to face you, her sunglasses coming off slowly so she could stare at you. Behind her the curtains flowed gently to the warm breeze that was coming through the open windows, making a rogue curl that must have fallen of her complicated hairdo, sway near the nape of her neck, the fiery tones complementing the palette of the room, with its gentle pink tones, perfectly.  Her chest rose and fell with each rapid breath; was she… nervous? Her hands were holding onto the top of an armchair, knuckles turning white as the seconds passed. You could not understand why she would feel this way, it’s not as if this would be your first time together, perhaps you had misinterpreted her body language and she was in fact, excited, lusting after you, staking like a predator. Slowly you took a step towards her, her head held high with a raised eyebrow, a gentle smirk on her lips, so you took another and since she did not stop you, only waited, you closed up the space that separated you. Your hands rose in the air to take her face in between them, but Avis stopped you, her grip tender as she pulled you towards a different room where a cart with drinks and two couches rested over a light-coloured carpet, sitting you down. She turned away from you to prepare herself a martini, sitting herself opposite after a moment with the small glass in her hand. She took a sip before lifting her head to look at you, her legs crossed as you waited for her to speak with hands resting over the fabric of your skirt.

-Before we go any further, If I asked you to try something with me, would you? – her voice was clear, business like, forcing you to stare wondering why the sudden change in the atmosphere, waiting for her to finish taking another sip of the drink, curiosity filling your chest. Avis had been thinking about this for a while, since your first encounter when you had told her that you liked it rough in bed. At first, she had thought that it meant a few pulls of hair, but when it had slipped out of your mouth in the throes of passion the possibility of her tying you down, she had begun to do the research. She had asked people about it, had looked around shops and such; she had made up her mind about this.

-It depends. What do you have in mind?

-I want to test your boundaries, see how much pain you can take until the pleasure is no longer that, how much it would take for me to overstimulate you, among many other things. I want to dominate you. – she spoke while her eyes locked with yours, the power that was emanating from her intoxicating, making you shiver on the spot. She wanted to mix pleasure and pain? She wanted to do what you thought she wanted to do? It surprised you and yet it felt fitting for a woman like her with such a commanding presence altogether.

-Dominate me? What made you think of this?

-You said you liked it rough. I’m simply wondering, how much?  

-I don’t know, no one has truly bothered to do such a thing with me. – she took another sip from her martini before patting the seat next to her. You did not hesitate and slid right beside her, her hand toying with the hem of your dress as she spoke, delighted in the way your body responded to her gentle touches and brief caresses of your thigh.

-Then would you agree to let me do this? Share this experience together?

-What exactly would it mean for me?

-Many things. I want you to understand that this whole thing is for the both of us, not just me. If there is something that you don’t want to do or try, make sure to tell me, I won’t proceed at all unless we are both sure about it. – she bent forward, only a foot separating her face from yours, her hot breath tainted with the slight aroma of gin filling your lungs, your breaths rapid, heart beating hard against your ribs. What she was saying carried a lot of implications, a lot of things that you would love to try with her, it scared you but it also excited you, and it was clear that she had been through this idea in her head more than once and more than twice.- Though there must be rules set in place for this, honey.

-Like when we were at the dealership?

-Something similar. – her face was now inches from yours, her voice low and husky as she spoke, her hand now fully under your skirt. She knew you would be on board by the time this conversation was over, perhaps she might have had you from the very beginning, either way, just having her lips so close and yet so far drove you insane. – Rule number one. You are mine and only mine, you are not allowed to touch or sleep with someone who is not me the same way I’m not allowed to be with anyone who is not you. Understood?

-Yes ma’am.

-You are not allowed to touch me or yourself unless I grant you permission, the same way that if I tell you to be quiet, to look at me or to be loud, you will comply. You will only address me as ma’am or mother; if you say anything else, you will be punished. You don’t have the right to beg or plead with me or for me to let you do anything, I am in charge and will chose when you can do something. And if I have not stated that you can, then you must always think that you can’t. Your main goal is to please me so you can be granted permission, for what? That is for me to decide. I can do to you whatever I want, taking on account that your safety takes priority over everything else, so you can’t escape me or pull away from me or contradict me in any way, if you do, you will be severely punished. And lastly… you can’t cum until I say so.  Are these rules agreeable to you?

-Yes, ma’am.

-Good girl. -she pecked your cheek, your damn cheek! It was torture to have her literally telling you she was going to do things to you that might leave you like jelly on her bed and yet she denied you her mouth. She sat back, taking a sip from her martini, the hand that had been playing with you now resting on the back of the couch. Your eyes were full of lust, gazing up at hers with a beseeching tone but she did not move from her spot; she had not even begun, and you were already imploring silently for her to touch you. It was utterly delicious. - There is a system to make sure that if things get too much for you, you can tell me, and I will immediately stop. A set of safe words. If you can take more than what I’m giving you must say white, if you need a moment to gather yourself you must say orange and if I’m pushing you too much, if you fear I’m going to hurt you or you are already in pain, say black and I will stop completely. Being rough with you doesn’t entitle me to hurt beyond how much you want me to, understood?

-Yes ma’am. I have a question. You will pleasure me and hurt me and treat me exactly like I said I wanted you to, but what do you get out of this Avis?

-Control. Anything I command you to do you will have to comply with or you will be punished, and it is I and only I who choses exactly what happens to you. You are mine to do as I please with. Do you understand exactly what will transpire here if you agree?

-I do.

-And do you agree Y/N? – she waited for a few seconds, although they felt like hours to her. You knew perfectly well what she wanted to do and to be fair and honest you could not think of a person better than Avis to share it with. If anyone was going to fuck you beyond comprehension while she tied you to a pipe or something, who better than the woman who loved you and cared for you.

-I do.

And suddenly it was as if a switch had been flipped and she was grabbing the collar of your dress and pulling you hard against her, her mouth crashing against yours. It caught you by surprise, a yelp escaping your lips, but it ended up muffle by Avis’s mouth, her tongue tracing the outline of your lower lip so you would grant her access to your mouth, which you did. It was messy and so very intoxicating to have her battling and exploring your mouth so intensely, her free had on the back of your neck to keep you in place. Your lungs were screaming for air but you did not want it to end, the feeling of her teeth biting down on your lower lip before she pulled back altogether nearly making you whine at the loss, your eyes watching Avis downing the rest of her martini before standing from the couch. You sat there unsure of what to do, after all you were supposed to follow her cues and commands, but she had given none. She left the room only to come back a minute later with the suitcase she had left by the door, pushing the French door that separated this room from the bedroom and dumping it over the mattress. Slowly she turned to look at you, a hand resting on the door frame as she lifted her hand, her index finger signalling for you to approach her. On shaky legs you stood and made your way to her, your heart beating so fast you believed she could hear it, her right hand moving to trace the line of your jaw, her voice quiet, nearly a whisper in your ear.

-Undress me.

The outfit she was wearing hugged her curves in all the right places, but it was obviously a bit stuffy, work clothes that she desired to get rid of and you were there to please after all. Your hands went up to her neck, tracing the outline of the outfit until your hands were running down her front, fingers working slowly on each button, pushing the jacket open after a few moments. Her eyes watched your every move, laced with such ardour that she feared she might make you combust or perhaps it was she who might end up in flames. The blouse underneath was white satin, thin and so very distracting with the way it plunged down low revealing the top of a white and pink corselette, Avis’s breasts moving hurriedly with each breath she took. You could not get enough of her, the way her skin looked peppered with freckles, the way it felt under your palms, it was absolutely maddening. You pulled the blouse out of her skirt, undoing the rest of the buttons to fully reveal her undergarments from the waist up, your hands running down her sides to her hips, pressing her against you. She gasped at the action and was about to reprimand you about how she had not told you to do that until she felt you turning her around, her back now against your chest. The way your lips landed on the back of her neck as your hands trailed up to her shoulders, fingers brushing the sides of her breasts, felt wonderful, the anger that she had felt sliding down her arms along with her jacket and blouse, leaving her flesh exposed for you to touch. Your fingers ghosted over the flesh of her upper arms, tracing lazy patterns as your kisses moved to the crook of her neck and onto her left shoulder, retracing your steps so her right side wouldn’t be neglected. She was humming in approval, moving her head to give you better access, feeling how your arms moved from her hands to her hips, fingering the waist of her skirt until you located the zip, pushing it down slowly until the garment fell on its own down her legs, pooling at her feet. She was only dressed in her undergarments now, your hands travelling to unclasp the first hook of her corselette, but Avis was quick to stop you, pushing her body off of yours to sit on the settee at the foot of the bed with her eyes racking over your body, resting an elbow on the mattress.

-You are quite overdressed dear. Take it off. All of it.

How could she turn you on so hard with just one command? It was insane. Your hands shook in anticipation as you lifted them to remove your jacket, letting it fall on the floor at her feet, before rising them once again to undo the buttons on the front of your dress, Avis’s eyes watching as you popped each open, revealing your peach coloured brassier and the creamy skin of your abdomen as your hands carried on downwards until the dress hung lose from your shoulders. She was eating you alive with her eyes, tracing her lips with her own tongue at the sweet sight of your matching lacy knickers and nude stockings clasped to a garter belt. You had invested in new lingerie Avis noticed quite pleased. Those modern garments sure suited a woman like you, the translucent fabric letting her see your rosy nipples trapped behind that beautiful garment that complimented your skin beautifully. It was no effort whatsoever to shimmy out of the dress, the flowy material pooling around your feet in a mass of blue, leaving you before Avis in your underwear.

You took one step towards her causing her to raise an eyebrow, and then another letting your dainty foot slip out of your flat, placing the tip of your toes on the edge of the settee, your left leg right beside her as you bent forward to unclasp your stocking, rolling it down your leg and dropping it at her feet, doing the same thing with your right leg, your garter belt the next garment to leave your body, on top of the growing pile of clothes that you were leaving at her feet. It was such a normal action to remove one’s stockings, but the way you had done it was simply lascivious, your breasts pressed against your thigh practically escaping from their confinement, your fingers sliding down your legs as if to tease her, to tempt her. Returning to the spot you had just left you gave her your back, hands unclasping your brassiere before stretching your arm and letting it fall, watching Avis over your shoulder. Her pupils were blown wide, her lower lip in between her teeth, the hand that was resting on the mattress gripping the covers while the other rubbed her own thigh. She was waiting for you to finish so she could pound on you, you could feel it in the way she was looking at you, your knickers absolutely drenched as you pushed them down your legs, kicking them aside. Every inch of your body was uncovered, free for her to see and touch at last. Slowly you turned to face her, a gasp escaping her parted lips at the sight of you, pushing herself into a sitting position, the lust that was filling her up making the embers of a fire start building into flames deep in her core. After a moment of raking her eyes over your body she locked them with yours. The game was on.

-My my, aren't I a lucky girl, with such a pretty little thing standing there so bare for me. But I think you would look even prettier kneeling at my feet, wouldn’t you say?

Positioning yourself on all fours you crawled, pushing the clothes that had been shed to the sides so they wouldn’t be in the way, your hands inches away from her heels when you stopped, lifting your head to look at her. She bent forward and grabbed your face forcefully, compelling you to sit on the heels of your feet to meet her face at the level she wanted, your hands clasped in your lap, nipples hard due to the breeze that was coming into the room from the big balcony, its curtains swaying, flowing like water. Your inner thighs were coated with your arousal, and something told you that by the way her eyes were absolutely blown wide she could smell it, and it was driving her mad with lust.

-You are being such a good girl for mama, but why don’t you put that mouth of yours to good use.

She let go of your face, pushing you back slightly and lifted her leg, the sole of her shoe coming to rest on your thigh. She had said mouth, she hadn’t said anything about hands, so you lifted them and lulled your head to the side in a questioning manner. She smiled; you were so diligent with the rules, remembering that back in the dealership she had told you not to speak unless she granted you permission, her eyes observing you for a moment before she nodded, relaxing back against the mattress, propped up on her elbows to watch you. Every path your fingers trace over her skin sent a shiver down Avis’s spine, your mouth kissing the arch of her foot, like a craving for her that you just couldn’t fulfil as your hands gently removed her shoe. Even her stockings tasted expensive as your kisses trailed up her shin, fingers massaging the ball of her foot, around her ankle, through her calf, drawing quiet moans and hums that filled the room so easily. She was exquisite under your touch. Upon reaching her knee you lifted her leg over your shoulder to lick the perfect hollow where her calf and thigh met, sucking the silk in your mouth leaving a wet spot behind as you gave it a resting place over your shoulder to carry on with your journey up her thigh.

You were kneeling before her so readily, her eyes moving from your movements on her leg to the way your back arched as your lips went further upwards, the way your ample breasts and perky nipples swayed with each motion your body made. Avis could feel how she was responding to your ministrations, her corselette feeling a bit tight around her, the lacy fabric of her knickers positively drenched already in between her legs. You kept going, your lips leaving pecks around the lacy top of her stockings while your hands keened the flesh around the clip, and then with one swift motion it came undone in your hand, fingering the hem as you made your way to the back of her thigh to unclip the other. Painstakingly slow the garment was removed from her leg leaving her free for you to touch at last, no barriers preventing you from licking and tasting her sweet skin, your teeth scraping the soft flesh on her shin as you finally let the stocking fall on the floor. It was maddening the way your nails raked over her thigh, red angry marks painting her flesh, which with a smirk she realised she had not told you to do. There was sudden jolt of pain when her hand made contact with your head and pulled your hair tight so her face was inches from yours, your scalp burning deliciously as the pain became pleasure in a quick instant.

-Well, what a naughty girl, taking such liberties. – your head was lulled back as the grip on your hair became stronger, more painful and yet you did not speak, simply stared at her, a new gave of arousal pooling in between your legs. - If you step out of line just one more time, I will have to punish you, and you don’t want mama to get angry, do you?

Your head shook, a triumphant smile on Avis’s lips as she brushed her lips over yours before releasing you. The first mistake she could pass, but a second one she would not indulge, part of her hoping you would trip so she could indeed punish you while the other half wanted to see just how obedient you could be. Your attention was now on her other leg, hands shaking slightly but not in fear, it was a mix of lust and excitement sprinkled with a certain level of curiosity that you could not avoid, she was in control after all. Her shoe was hanging from the tip of her toes when you placed your hand on her calf to lift it, watching as the black pump fell to the floor on its own with a plop, her foot at the perfect angle with your face so your lips could kiss the arch. This time you made sure to give it a little bit more of attention, the pads of your fingers massaging and releasing the tension of being on her feet throughout the day, moving from her toes to her sole and the ball of her foot while peppering tender kisses around her ankle. You were making up for your slipup, it was quite obvious, but she was not going to complain when your hands were so eager to please her and keep her in a contented cloud, the small specks of anger and tension that had still clung to her skin, slipping into the ether. Once satisfied with the way she hummed as she let her body fall back onto the mattress, utterly relaxed, you began to move upwards, each kiss leaving a wet spot over the silk that you were so very tempted to rip with your teeth, but you were pretty sure she would count that as stepping out of line. Some other time, you thought.

Your lips were busy kissing around her knee, but your hands were trailing upwards until she felt you fingering around the lacy top of her stocking. You were being deliberately slow, toying and playing with the clip but never unclasping it, your lips teasing her thigh only to return around her knee once again, driving her into an impatience that she could only tolerate so much. When you felt her body shift and rest on her elbows, her eyes narrow as they locked with yours, you quickly picked up on the fact that you were pushing your luck and moved quickly to unclasp the front and back clips before pushing the garment off her leg. She smiled approvingly, but you were not quite done, you had neglected her thigh and that could not be. Finally, you began to move upwards, your pecks turning into gentle nibbles the closer you got to her inner thigh, biting down hard on your preferred spot, running your tongue over the red mark to soothe the sting. She gasped in surprise letting pleasure taint it as her head fell back to take in every single sensation you were giving her, but even though she enjoyed it immensely, and you knew she did, you had slipped, a naughty smirk painting her lips. She let you finish your work of kisses with one single peck on the joint of her hip and leg before her body lurched forward and her hand grasped your hair again. A hiss escaped your lips this time, another infraction she decided, pushing your body back until your back was practically arching under the force of her grip, Avis coming to stand and bend over your body, towering over you as your hands fell to the carpeted floor to stabilise yourself. Her breasts were only a few inches away from you, your mouth watering at the sight, but you were frozen in your spot, eyes moving frantically all over her body as her face got closer and closer to yours.

-And here I was, thinking you were going to be a good girl for mama only to disappoint me. You know what girls that step out of line get, don’t you? – God, why hadn’t you done this before, this whole dominating act could set you on fire with the way her voice spoke to you so huskily and with such an authoritative tone. You were her toy, her plaything, and you wanted to be her only girl forever and always. You found yourself nodding to her question, but she was not satisfied, she pulled you closer to her, giving your neck and back a break from their previous position, her breasts right at the perfect angle for you to feast on, but you could not steer your gaze clear from her face. – I need words darling, so answer the question.

-Punished.

-Indeed. You were doing so well, but I guess that sluts like you need to be reminded that your rightful place is at my feet. Crawl in between the balcony and the bed and stay. Understood?

-Yes, mother.

 She let you go, that delicious sting that had spread through your scalp vanishing. You sat there for a few instants before placing the palms of your hands over the carpet, moving slowly over shaky legs around the bed. Avis had not moved from her spot, how could she when you were so beautiful on all fours moving to the place she had specified, your ass propped up in the air letting her eyes roamed over your perfect checks, the glistening in between your thighs not going amiss as your hips swaying as you progressed with each step. Her own hands travelled down the sides of her body until they settled on her hips, savouring the moment. The carpet dug into your skin, but it did not matter, they would leave a mark that in no time would vanish, the principal question in your mind being what was Avis going to do with you while she had you in this spot. Reaching the spot you thought Avis would approve of, you stilled your movements, doubting whether to stay on all fours or to sit back, she had not specified how you should wait. A gentle breeze cooled your skin, making you turn your head to let it hit your face in hopes that your burning cheeks would not remain so. It was beautiful through the open doors, the sunlight turning slightly orange as evening progressed outside this room, the drawn curtains flowing with each gust of wind allowing you to see the outline of the city among all the greenery. If you let your mind wander you could imagine the sea just there on the horizon.

-Is the view outside better than the one inside this room? - You had not heard Avis’s steps approaching you, the sudden sound of her voice in your ear causing you to turn your head away from the window, eyes staring down at the carpet again. Your heart had skipped a beat, but you were unsure whether it was due to how sultry her voice was or if it was because she had scared the crap out of you. She made a disapproving sound with her mouth as she pushed herself back to her full height, something cold and leathery making contact with your upper back to keep you in place on all fours when she saw that you had lifted your hands off the carpte to sit back. – I asked you a question.

-No ma’am.

-And yet your attention was elsewhere. You disappoint me Y/N. I thought you would do well with rules, but you’ve proven to be unable to follow simple commands. I guess sluts like you deserve to be punished after all. What will I do… what… will… I… do.

The foreign object that had been resting on your upper back slid down following the outline of your spine, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind until it reached your ass. You had an inkling of what she could have in her hand, but you could not bring yourself to turn your head to look at her, anticipation filling your chest as your heart raced against your ribs, pounding. The leathery object slid over your left cheek and then your right, but nothing else happened for a few instants, the excitement nearly too much for you. You heard ruffling beside you and from the corner of your eye you saw part of Avis’s frame sitting on the bed, over the covers. And then it hit you square in the ass. A thin sturdy shaft collided with both your cheeks as the leather tongue you had felt running over your skin hit you perfectly over the right side of your buttocks. A gasp escaped your lips at the contact, your body jerking forward in surprise and out of seer instinct to move away from what was inflicting pain but you quickly returned to your original position, the sting you had felt at first vanishing after a few seconds helped by the touch of Avis’s palm running over the mark you were sure the object had left behind, soothing it until the only sensation left was pleasure.

-Now, I think that ten whippings for the liberties you took should teach you to never step out of line again. Count out loud.

Her hand left your lower back, seconds passing by in silence. She had a riding crop in her hand, she was going to hit you with a fucking riding crop, a fantasy you had been having for weeks now. You had imagined her bending you over her knee and using her hand to discipline you but as your gasps turned into moans, she would bend you over the couch and hit you over and over with the riding crop until you had to stop fantasising, or you would cum on the spot. This was real, she had one in her hand, you had felt its sting on your skin and yet you could not bring yourself to believe that this was happening. The first spank quickly made you realise that it was indeed true, the leather tongue colliding with your left cheek harder than the one she had inflicted upon you mere minutes ago. This pain was delicious, absolutely dizzying and addictive and for an instant you nearly forgot to speak the number.

-One!

-Good girl.

The second one landed on your right cheek, a gasp escaping your mouth as you said “two”, voice wavering slightly. This pain was hardly anything that could make you scream, your body stoic in place even if the pleasure was building higher, the third and fourth spanks hitting you unceremoniously on both sides pretty quickly one after the other. You nearly missed saying three, but Avis didn’t seem to notice that slip up. She was beyond aroused, her breaths rapid with the riding crop tightly in her hand, eyes glued to the red marks she was leaving that she was so very tempted to bend and soothe with her tongue, but that would be the opposite of inflicting a punishment. She did notice that you seemed to be handling it all rather well, so when the fifth spank landed on your right cheek, she made sure to smack it harder, the gasp that you gave perfect indication that this might be just the ideal strength to use on you. The feeling of the leather hitting you harder sent a jolt of pain up your back, but the pleasure was grander, your voice filled with desire as you muttered “five”, so very deep and utterly maddening that you were sure by the time Avis was done you could cum simply with one word.

-Can you take the five that are left, darling?

The concern that laced her lusty voice warmed your heart and you quickly nodded, yearning for the pain that was to come. She delivered as soon you stilled your movements, the hit harder than the one before, the pain turning into pleasure so fast that you weren’t sure if you had felt anything but pleasure, “six” leaving your mouth in a breathless gasp, your hands gripping the carpet until your knuckled turned white, your toes twitching. The seventh one made your back arch, toes curling hard as you felt your arousal practically dripping down your legs, but even in this hazy could of desire tainted by pain you managed to speak the next number. You were doing so well, your pretty creamy skin painted scarlet, contrasting beautifully, and in a simple touch of affection towards you Avis ran her hand over the marks to sooth the sting and pulsating feeling that she was sure you had going on under the red flesh. Just three more left, you thought. There was a certain part of you that did not want her to stop but the curiosity of what she would do once she was done was rather overwhelming, the eighth blow landing a little bit closer to your upper thighs that Avis had intended, a yelp sliding past your ajar lips. This pain was somehow completely different to anything you had felt before and yet so fucking wonderful, so raw that your arms collapsed leaving the right side of your face resting over the carpet, eyes closed as you muttered “eight”. Avis bent forward to check on you, worried at the sight of you practically laid on the floor, her heart pounding and her hand nearly dropping the riding crop, but when she heard you say the number she released the breath she hadn’t realised she had been holding in her lungs. If you need her to stop you would say the word, she thought more in an attempt to reassure herself that you were fine than anything else.

You hadn’t noticed that your hips twitched a bit, calling out to her, your eyes opening briefly to lock with hers, the sight of her deep brown against your beautiful E/C being enough for her to see that you were in fact alright. Avis returned then quickly to her previous persona and inflicted one more smack, this time over both of your cheeks, your lower lip in between your teeth to prevent a moan from escaping, as the pain spiralled into pleasure so easily that it took you a few seconds to form the word she needed to hear. Fuck, it was delicious, you never wanted her to stop whipping you, you wanted to stay in this cloud of pleasure forever if she would allow it, but then the tenth and last smack came and it landed so hard against your skin that you screamed, your eyes filling with tears, the sting feeling like actual pain that you were certain you would not be able to withstand if she still had a few more spanks left. And yet it sent a jolt of pleasure so strong down to your core that you felt a gush in between your legs, your cunt aching so bad for her touch that you were an inch away from madness. You hadn’t realised how rapid your breaths were until you felt the fabric of the carpet brushing against your nipples with each hurried puff of air that you tried to force into your lungs. There was a ruffling right next to you, Avis’s face coming into your range of vision, her left hand resting over the carpet while the other one caressed the skin of your shoulder, still holding on to the riding crop, rubbing tender circles. You smiled at the gesture and after locking eyes with her you uttered the last word in a quiet voice filled with desire and a hint of relief.

-Ten. Did I do well, mother?

-You did very well. You were my very good girl, taking them all and never missing a number. – she gently took your hands and pulled you into a sitting position, a hiss slipping from your lips when you rested your buttocks on the heels of your feet. She would have asked if you were alright, but you clearly had enjoyed it, if the way your body had responded was anything to go by, her eyes having seen your thighs coated in your arousal. She pecked your shoulder, her hand caressing your upper back, moving gently over the red marks to sooth them. - You will not step out of line again, will you, darling?

-No, mother.

-Then I think a reward is in order. Is there anything my good girl wants mama to do to her?

-I want you to tie me mother.

-If that is what my baby girl wants, that’s what she’ll get.

She pulled you up until you were standing before her, legs slightly shaky but you stayed upright when she let go of your hands. The suitcase she had brought upstairs laid open over the covers, your eyes observing several items that rested inside it, over a satin liner: a blindfold, rich feathers, ropes and what looked to be a leash. She really had done her homework on the matter. She had turned around the bed to pick it up and place it over the settee at the foot of it, also taking the time to remove the covers and throw them on the floor. You were now standing on opposite sides of the bed, but Avis’s hands were not free anymore, she had a set of salmon-coloured ropes in between them, her fingers toying with one of the ends. It didn’t matter how many times she had seen you naked, you were still exceptional every single one of them, the evening light coming through the window giving you an ethereal look as its halo wrapped around your frame, your beauty doing things to her that she couldn’t put into words. Her body bent forward as one hand patted the mattress, signalling for you to hop on the bed which of course you did in a heartbeat, moving slowly, never breaking eye contact with her. You hadn’t noticed that the carpet had dug into the skin of your knees until they rested over the soft bedsheets and bland mattress that dipped as you rested your weight over it. Crawling towards her you were stopped by a gentle hand on your chest, your body following every cue she was giving you, from the way it pushed you away from her so you would be in the middle of the bed to the way she turned you and pushed you onto your back, laying fully over the mattress. The headboard had several pillows and cushions resting on it and Avis, as caring as she was, picked one up and pushed it under your hips to help with the sting and leftover pain on your ass cheeks.

She was being extremely tender with you, maybe because you had given her a couple of scares, but you did not mind this treatment, her hands grabbing yours and beginning to wrap the rope around your wrists making sure they were tight enough that you wouldn’t accidentally slip out of the hops but lose enough that they wouldn’t hurt you and draw out blood, though something told her that in the future you two might discuss such a topic. She finished by tying a knot, pulling the rope to try it out before she pushed your arms above your head. The headboard didn’t have any hooks or bars that she could tie the ends to, so she had to get a bit creative, kneeling on the floor to tie one to the foot of the bed before rounding to the other side and doing the same. You were now perfectly secured, a look of lust and anticipation in your eyes, watching as Avis began to walk around the perimeter of the bed making sure to never let her eyes stray from your naked form. God, she had you completely at her mercy to do as she pleased with, idea after idea filling her head until finally, she settled on one specific thing. From the foot of the bed and over the settee, she crawled on top of the bed, her hands running from your feet to your knees, parting your legs to accommodate herself in between them, resting her palms over your hip bone. Her lips made contact with your skin, trailing kisses from your abdomen all the way to your sternum, moving up to your neck and jawline, her mouth kissing the shell of your ear.

-You’ve been such a good girl. You want mama to touch you, don’t you?

You nodded, the feeling of her lips over your skin a most addictive sensation, and you knew she was not one to disappoint, retracing her steps while deliberately not touching your breasts, leaving wet patches over your overheated skin. She came to sit back on her knees, your fingers feeling the rough material of the rope as you watched how she removed her hands from your body and began to run them over her own from her hips all the way to her breasts, playing and kneading the flesh through her clothes, throwing her head back to give you an even better show. And then her fingers unclasped the first hook, her ample breasts one step closer to freedom. You were watching her with unbridled attention, pulling unconsciously on the ropes in an attempt to reach her and unclasp it yourself needing to touch her skin, but this was her fantasy now, having you at her mercy. Her fingers moved over the pink lace on the sides of the garment, playing with the boning until her hands reached the clips that had previously been holding her stockings, twirling them around until she unclasped the hook at the end of the garment letting your eyes see a bit of the perfect skin above her knickers. Your mouth was both dry and watering at the sight, breaths coming in hurried puffs as she trailed her hands back towards her tits and unhooked another one, her ample breasts nearly escaping from the corselette. They were so beautiful, and you wanted nothing else than to bury your face in between them, your arms moving a bit more frantically, the rough material of the rope digging slightly on your wrists forcing you to stop.

She was a perfect seductress, a temptress, removing her garment with slow steps as to drive your lust through the roof, but you could not beg her to be faster nor plead with her to let you touch her; you were not going to risk breaking another rule. She was only one hook away from being completely naked from the waist up and yet her hands did not go for it, they went to your feet, tracing the shape of your shin and knee, her lips planting sweet pecks on your inner thighs as your eyes glued to the way her breasts were screaming to be freed, hanging on by a thread. You honestly did not know which was better, the sight of her or the way her lips were kissing that sensitive skin in between your legs, scraping her teeth and nibbling gently, leaving angry red marks that her tongue soothed, her hands kneading the flesh around your hips almost as if she were ready to hold you in place should you start ruffling around. With each peck so got closer to your dripping cunt, the smell of your arousal so intoxicating that part of Avis wanted to simply bury her face in it and never let go, but you had bit her before, another infraction that she hadn’t forgotten about, and she had to punish you for it. Her lips left a kiss on the skin between your inner thigh and your cunt, hips buckling on their own towards her face, but the action only added to the fuel to tease you, and she slapped the side of your hip before pushing herself back to sit on her knees, the corselette slightly askew but her tits still hidden from your sight.

And then her hands traced her collarbone, the valley between her breasts and began to toy with the hook, your hands pulling on the ropes as your fingers wrapped around the cord in excitement. In slow motion she unclasped the corselette, your eyes watching at her delightful breasts bounced out of their confinement and the garment fell over the mattress behind her, a raised eyebrow and filthy smirk topping it all off. Fuck, you could have cum just from the sight of her. With cat like grace, she crawled back on top of you, both hands resting on either side of your head inching closer and closer to you mouth until finally she kissed you. You hadn’t realised how much you had craved her lips over yours until she was crashing them against your mouth, tongue battling against tongue to assert her dominance over you, though she didn’t need to, you were her slave, her submissive little girl. Your hands fought against their restrains as the need to touch her grew, but she paid it no mind, breaking the kiss to bite down hard on your lower lip, a gasp escaping your mouth as she drew blood, her tongue tracing the wound to pick up the droplet that had formed. The taste was metallic, but it mixed with the alcohol of her martini and the sweet essence that was you like a perfect drink. She began to play with you in earnest as her lips journeyed down the shape of your neck, biting and sucking on your pulse point hard so that there would be a mark left behind, eyes rolling to the back of your head briefly at the feeling, the bed moving slightly as your arms pulled against the ropes.

Your neglected breasts were calling out to her, kisses tracing the shape of the plump flesh before she popped one of your nipples in her mouth, twirling the pink bud, nibbling and sucking. You could not help it, a string of moans made their way out of your throat, the skin of your wrists stinging as you pulled harder to free your hands to thread your fingers in between her curls, but it was to no avail, she had tied them properly. Her attention moved to your other tit, teeth biting down to make you scream, and you were sure that this time people might have heard you through the open window, though you couldn’t give two shits with the way Avis’s hands and mouth were playing with your breasts, every sensation sending a jolt of pleasure down to your core that ached so bad for her you weren’t sure you would be able to hold off your orgasm for more than a few minutes. She loved playing with you, but there was a growing need to taste you, so her lips released your nipple after one finally suck, a deep moan emanating from your mouth, before she traced the shape of your sternum and began to move downwards through your abdomen and hips, sucking on the skin over your bone making sure to leave a bruise. It was a trait mark of hers at this point to always leave some sort of bruise on your skin, you supposed that it was her way of making sure people knew you belonged to someone. The anticipation was skyrocketing, hands actively pulling on the ropes now, the thick cords digging onto your skin as her mouth left a kiss over your pubic bone before your cunt was face to face with her, your glistening folds such a delicious sight. Wanting to prologue her teasing for a bit longer she slid her index finger up and down your cunt, a mix between a growl and a moan reverberating from your throat with each swipe, her fingertip brushing over your swollen clit.

-Fuck! - the touch sent sparks all throughout your body, your hips buckling against her hand as your head lulled back exposing your neck to her. She stopped all motions suddenly, a whine coming from your parted lips, forcing your eyes to open and look at her with a questioning glance.

-Did I tell you, you could speak, dear?

-N… No, mother.

-Then I should perhaps leave you like this until you learn to ask for permission.

-No, mother! I promise I won’t do it again, I’m sorry.

-Don’t apologise Y/N, never break a rule again. – her hands dug into the skin of your hips, her breath ghosting over your cunt, the warmth contrasting with the cooling sensation it gave you. - You know that if you want something from mama, you only have to ask.

-May I… may I speak, mother?

-Since you asked you nicely… you may.

A wave of relief washed over your body, but it was short lived as her mouth came crashing down over your cunt, and suddenly the only thing you could feel was pleasure. She was fucking fantastic with her tongue, lapping up and down your folds like a starving woman, gathering your juices and drinking in your sweet taste as her ears were graced with every moan and profanity known to humankind. Your arms hurt from the strength you were using to free yourself, the skin of your wrists probably red and raw as you thrashed around, head rolled back as she wrapped her lips around your swollen bud, twirling it up and down, from side to side. Every single movement was making your orgasm build faster and higher, pants and screams increasing in pitch. It was overwhelming the speed at which it was all happening, Avis pushing a finger inside you, curling and touching your sweet spot, the pleasure clouding your visions.

-DONTSTOPDONTSTOPDONTSTOP! FUCK AVIS!

She doubled her efforts now, pumping in and out of you as fast as her arm would allow her, feeling your walls clenching around her fingers harder with each passings minute. At the last second, she changed positions, her hand never stopping but her mouth releasing your clit, her body climbing over yours as her free hand came to rest next to your head. You had taught her a trick on New Year’s, and she had been waiting for the right moment to use it, and now seemed like the perfect moment, her hips slamming into her hand to use the momentum to pound into you, her thumb rubbing your bud. The force of her hips made your body rise and fall on the bed, your legs wrapping around her waist to keep her in place as you screamed higher and higher. You were so close, so fucking close, Avis pushing a second finger inside you, her mouth right next to your ear as she whispered.

-Cum for mama, darling.

And everything went white. Every single nerve in your body was burning bright, limbs twitching under the power of the orgasm she was giving you, her hips slamming into yours at a murdering pace, never stopping, never faltering, your hips trusting to meet her as your world filled with an explosive amount of pleasure and joy, screaming her name over and over. You were sure the skin of your wrists was broken by now, bleeding maybe, but you didn’t care, you were using the ropes as leverage to meet her movements like a psycho woman. It was insane all the things she was making you feel, that she had made you feel throughout this little escapade, but she was not letting up, your heart pounding against your ribs. You had not come down from your high when you felt a second one building deep in your core, Avis’s thumb putting a bit more of pressure on your clit making you jolt and yelp trying to escape her touch, but at the same time you just couldn’t, you were so close. She kissed your cheek as your breaths became ragged before returning in between your legs, her tongue taking every drop of arousal you had poured over her hand, her arm now a bit more relaxed after the break, but still pumping in and out, knuckles deep.

-YES! YES! GOD YES!

Her lips wrapped around you very swollen bud once more, twirling and sucking hard, your walls clenching around her fingers, your orgasm reaching a breaking point so fast that you almost felt like you couldn’t keep up. It was reaching a maddening point, her teeth scraping and nibbling, sending you over the edge for a second time, her hand pounding into you as with the other one she tried to still your manic movements against her face. The heels of your feet were digging onto the mattress as she carried on, fingers wrapped tightly around the thick ropes. She really was trying so fucking hard to squeeze every orgasm she could out of you, delighted in the way you thrashed around and called out her name in between pants. She could get a couple more, she was sure, adding a third finger, the sting of the stretch so delicious and almost a bit too much, but you pulled through, you could feel the third orgasm building so fast, so overwhelming under your hot skin, limbs twitching with every spark and jolt of electricity that Avis was producing with that gifted mouth of hers around your clit. It caught you by surprise when you had not come down and the third wave was crushing you under its explosive weight. This time there was a certain amount of pain spreading through every limb, your body moving, or trying to anyway, from Avis’s grip, needing her to give you a moment, but she did not stop, and you hoarse voice could not find the strength to scream any more, moans and pants the only thing echoing against the walls, sliding out the window.

There was no rhythm whatsoever to your movements, none at all as Avis continued with her assault on your extremely oversensitive bud, pumping her fingers in and out at a pace that you could not keep up with anymore. The pleasure that had built in your core was turning into pain, her hand not giving you a respite from all the sensations and powerful orgasms, because each of them had sent you to the fucking stars in one hell of an astral journey, but this time you couldn’t give her a fourth one. Your juices were dripping out of you onto the pillow underneath your ass while also all over Avis’s hand, mouth and chin. Suddenly you felt it all a thousand times clearer when, as you were rolling out of your third peak, you squirted all over her, the pleasure skyrocketing for a moment, your back arched off the bed, face turned to the side hidden by your arm, until the pain overtook it all. It spread to every limb, every cell of your body, her ministrations too fucking overwhelming that you could feel your lungs failing to breath, your head dizzy, the feeling that you might actually pass out filling your chest as your hazy mind tried to figure out how to tell her.

-Stop! Avis… fuck… Stop! BLACK! BLACK!

Instantly her movements stilled, pulling her fingers out of you and jerking her body into a sitting position before crawling fast to your side. The waves of pain and pleasure were still coursing through your body, but at least you could feel air passing through your lungs once again, the aching fading slowly as Avis quickly worked on the ropes to release your hands, taking them in hers once it laid on top of the pillows, forgotten. You had hurt your wrists she noticed, broken bleeding skin meeting her eyes before she gently placed them over the mattress to turn all her attention to you, pushing the sweat covered hair off your forehead. She should have noticed, she thought, she should have paid more attention to how ragged your breaths were, to how you were trying to pull away from her, worry and terror filling her chest as you remined laying there.

-Are you alright? Talk to me, please.

-Moment.

You needed a moment, okay, you had spoken, quietly, but spoken anyway, you were breathing, you just needed a moment. The dizziness was slowly fading as well, leaving traces of a light-headedness that you could cope with. Avis slipped from the bed to get you some water, rushing back to your side in under a minute trying not to spill it, keeping her eyes glued to your chest. It rose and fell at a slower pace, the raspiness it had held before no longer audible, your limbs motionless, completely spent over the mattress, only twitching every once in a while as the afterglow began to seep into your bones and muscles relaxing you, letting the scare pass. Avis could see that you were getting better, but that could not shake the feeling that she had accidentally overstepped, even if this was exactly why there was a safe word system. Her free hand caressed your forehead gently, the only sound in the room being your steady breaths. After a few minutes you opened your eyes slowly to meet a pair of brown terrified orbs.

-Are you okay?

-Yeah. It was… just a bit much.

-Here, drink some water. – she helped you to sit in bed, placing the glass against your lips and tipping it so you could drink, neither of you trusting your arms to hold it. Once you were done Avis placed the glass on the nightstand, quickly returning her attention to you as her hands rested on your cheeks. – Are you sure you are fine? I can take you to a doctor if you need one.

-I’m okay. You were doing great; you were just not giving me time to rest and I kind of nearly passed out. I would have been fine if I had fainted, you would have needed to give be some more time to recover, but I didn’t want to scare you like that.

-As if this didn’t scare me already.

-We’ll get better, I mean neither of us are used to doing this on a daily basis. Maybe we need to learn how to read the cues that each other’s bodies are giving us, pay a little more attention before we carry on.

-You don’t want to stop? You nearly passed out.

-If you mean as of right now, I think I’m done Avis, but I don’t want us to not try again some other day. We need to be more careful next time, that’s all. By the way, what were you trying to do?

-Overstimulate you. – she could not help the chuckle that escaped her, her forehead resting against yours for a moment before she pecked your lips and sat back, taking your hands in hers to take a look at your scrapes. They weren’t too bad, but it would be best to bandage them.

-Well, you certainly cracked it.

-Oh, shut up. You really scared the shit out of me just now. I don’t think I want to do this particular thing again.

-Well, I want you to.

-What? – her head rose to look at you, surprise not even covering what she was feeling as your eyes smiled gently at her.

-Yeah, I was liking it until I panicked, but now that I know that this are the signs, I can give you a warning. We just need to learn Avis. You’ll be a pro in no time.  

-You are masochist.

-Maybe. We can look into that some other time. Right now I believe that there’s a round two due.

-You want to carry on? You nearly fainted on me Y/N!

-Oh, don’t worry, I’m done, but that doesn’t mean that you have to be.

-I don’t need to continue, you’ve pleased me enough.

-I’ve been mama’s good girls, I know, but I think that after doing so well just now, a reward is due.

-A reward? What reward? – your face moved until it was inches away from hers, lips ghosting over lips as your hands travelled up her thighs towards her hips, fingering the fabric of her knickers.

-I want you to let go for me Avis. Let me take you to Dreamland.

There really was no need, but how could she say no when your eyes were pleading with hers like that. She found herself nodding, letting you move her around until she was the one sitting on the spot you had just been in over the mattress, the ruined pillow ending up on the floor. Your lips met hers in a sweet kiss, tracing the shape of her mouth with your tongue, the line of her jaw and licking that spot that always made her moan under her ear. What a delightful sound it was. You carried on tasting the skin of her neck and sucking on her pulse point until you were sure you had left a mark, but at least this time you wouldn’t have to worry about her husband finding out. Your teeth scraped the shape of her collarbone and left a wet trail down her sternum and in the valley between her breasts, her hands moving to thread her fingers in your hair. As you moved your body downward on the bed you felt the opened suitcase with your foot, an idea assaulting you suddenly. You met her deep eyes, whispering tenderly against her lips.

-Do you trust me?

-Yes.

-Then close your eyes.

She held your gaze for a second before following your words, her ears picking up on some ruffling sounds and the shift of weight on the mattress. She was curious about what you had planned, maybe you were going to tie her, maybe you were going to spank her and punish her for nearly leaving you unconscious in a hotel room. The sky is the limit. Your hands caressed the shape of her arms, a piece of fabric following your fingers until she felt something covering her eyes, her long eyelashes pressed against white satin. So, you were going to blindfold her, well, that was something she had not considered, but she wasn’t going to complain. Now that her sight was gone all her other senses heightened, her ears picking up every single breath you took, the way the bedsheets ruffled under both your weights. Your lips landed on her shoulder, pecking and drawing a gasp as her hands gripped the sheets, each kiss leaving a path of goosebumps over her skin as your fingers begun toying with the waistband of her knickers. Each touch felt a thousand times better, each kiss leaving her wanting more. Suddenly your breath was in her ear, making her turn her head toward the sound of your voice.

-Lay down for me Avis.

With her hands in yours she let herself fall gently on the mattress, her head coming to rest over a soft pillow. She had expected for you to start kissing down her body, but she couldn’t feel anything, she couldn’t hear you either, her heart pounding in her chest. A soft warm object that felt much like fur landed on her chest, her breath hitched in her lungs at the sensation, and as it moved down in between her breasts and abdomen she felt like the path it had left was fire. The unknown object changed places and was now following the line of her shin and thigh, her head turning instinctively towards the left side, gasps sliding from her ajar lips with each new touch. Her mind was a bit hazy with how it all felt, but after a moment it clicked that you were using the bright white feather that she had had in her suitcase. Weren’t you a sneaky one. You had moved it to her neck, the touch sending a shiver down her spine before your lips came to connect with the skin of her sternum, adding to the goosebumps that already painting every inch of her body. She had never known that losing her sight, even if it was momentarily, could make everything else just spike, your kisses leaving her flesh ablaze as you moved down her abdomen.

Suddenly your lips left her skin, and she felt your weight go to the side of the bed and then return in between her legs, unsure what was going on, her head moving from side to side trying to pick up anything at all. A slashing sound cut through the air and landed with a cracking smack right beside her right hip, over the mattress, Avis’s body jolting at it. Oh God, were you going to spank her? The thought made her heart race, her breath hurried in anticipation but the expected command to turn around an place herself on all fours never came, and the leather only landed over her skin the same way the feather had. It was such a contrast, the material completely different, and the cooling touch it left on her thigh driving her mad. You slid the riding crop down to her foot and then rose it until rested under her chin, lifting her head slightly to grant you a better access to her neck, lips latching to her pulse point as if you needed it to live. A moan escaped from her throat, her hands patting your head until she was able to thread her fingers in between your soft locks, grounding herself as the feather began to move down her right arm. She couldn’t get enough of all the sensations that were rushing through her body, the fabric of her knickers an obstacle at this point, hoping you would do something about it soon.

Lifting yourself back onto your knees she had to let go of your hair, hands dropping to the sides as suddenly the cold leather of the riding crop slid over her left breast, playfully slapping her nipple. That simple action made Avis arch her back, a yelp and a moan mixing in the hot air around you, the feather now running over the skin of her inner thighs, her reflective instinct being to buckled her hips and at the same time to try and push her legs together, but as you were in between them she could not, your hands coming to rest on her hip bone to still her. The way she was responding to you was delightful, every sound, every movement was simply exquisite, but you wanted more. Your fingers slid to the waistband of her underwear, pushing them slowly down her legs until they laid on the floor, Avis’s body completely bare for your eyes only. She could not see the way you were drinking her in, her hands grasping the sheets as she impatiently waited for you to do something, the anticipation driving her insane with desire. The feather returned to the valley between her breasts, travelling down until it moved over her dripping cunt, the sensation making her arch her back once again and lull her head back, buckling her hips towards you, but you were not done.

Her ample breasts were screaming for you to touch them, you could almost hear them as you buried your face in between them, kneading the flesh and rolling her nipples with your thumbs as you licked and nibbled at the skin. You were torturing her, a delicious playfulness that she could not get enough of, your lips so gentle while your hands gave her tits a more rough treatment. Satisfied with her pants and gasps you proceeded to pop one nipple in your mouth, sucking hard and scraping the sensitive bud with your teeth, your name slipping out of her mouth with a scream as the hand that had rested on your head now pulled, the sting on your scalp not that much of a foreign feeling to you. Your mouth felt like heaven, each touch and feeling driving her core to burn brighter and hotter for you, a plead nearly coming out of her mouth, but she was unable to speak as you moved to her other nipple, biting down instead before twirling it around with your tongue. Her brain was turning all mushy with the way you were kissing, your hands rubbing circles on her thighs.

-Y/N, please.

-Please? – you released her nipple with a loud pop, the leather of the riding crop returning to slide up and down both arms. -What do you want Avis?

-Stop teasing.

-And if I stop, what would you want me to do?

-Eat me out.

-Is that so? Well, I am here to please.

She gasped and yelped as you smacked the leather tongue gently on the side of her hip before she felt the weight shift between her legs. The first swipe of your tongue had her eyes rolling to the back of her head, a curse slipping out without her being able to stop it, not that she would have. You had missed that salty taste that was Avis, you had nearly forgotten the way her skin felt under your palms, the sounds that only your ears would hear. You had missed everything that was Avis in this past week, and the only thing you wanted to do was make her forget all the stress and frustration that life had brought her way. Your tongue lapped in between her folds so easily, your fingers parting her entrance so you could push it and out of her, the moans that reached your ears such a melodious sound to hear. What you were doing to her felt like electricity in every cell of her body, the tactile sense having heightened more than a hundred percent, driving every single touch to feel as if it was the most wonderful thing she had ever felt in her life. Without warning, and without need, you pushed two fingers in, a scream reverberating from her throat so loudly that it was a matter of time when you would have a worker from the hotel knocking on your door, but until that moment came you were going to try your best to make her voice be heard all throughout Hollywood.

Your arm pumped your fingers in and out of her fast and without a care in the world, pushing them out almost completely before returning them inside her hot velvety cunt until your knuckles were nestled between her fold, curling your fingertips enough so you would touch that wonderful spot inside her. This went on for a few minutes, your eyes taking in the way she thrashed around the bedsheets, her hips buckling and thrusting against your hand to match you. Her neck and chest were red, both from the exertion and due to every little mark you had left on her soft flesh, a thin layer of sweat forming all over her body. Her moans were beginning to rise in pitch, her orgasm getting closer and closer, but you wanted the whole experience to be monumental, your mouth returning to her cunt to suck her folds and lick them before twirling her swollen clit with your tongue, the bud moving up and down as you toyed with it, a hand suddenly on your head pushing your face closer to her if that was even possible.  

-God Y/N! You are wonderful! FUCK!

You could not help it, you wanted to see her unravel before you, and so you pushed a third finger inside her, the stretch bring on a fluttering of her walls, the pace as fast as your arm and back would allow you and the sound of her juices quenching around you as you pushed your hand knuckles deep inside her so utterly filthy and sinful and yet, it was driving Avis insane. The sensation of the feather moving over her stiff nipples was enough to send her over the edge, but your lips sucking on her clit certainly gave her a better push, helping her tip over it. Her back arched off the bed, grinding her hips against your face maniacally as the peak of her orgasm exploded all around her.

-YES! YES! AHHHHH, YESYESYES!

Her throat would be raw tomorrow, maybe even this evening as her screams echoed and reverberated against the walls, leaving a slight ringing in your ears. The white-hot pleasure spread through every limb, her vision clouded with stars as you slowed your pace after a minute, helping her ride out her orgasm. She was not going to lie, every single peak you had given her had been marvellous, but what you had just done to her was beyond that. It had been mind-blowing, explosive, every single sensation multiplied by a thousand, shivers running from her core to the tips of her fingers and toes. She felt the hand that just had the feather rubbing circles on her thigh, your fingers slowing down ever further until she collapsed on the bed, her chest rising and falling in hurried pants, her hand releasing your hair and flopping beside her. Her walls still clung to your fingers every few seconds accompanied with her hips twitching, but you had to pull out, a whine slipping through her ajar mouth at the loss of contact. Climbing on top of her you carefully removed the blindfold, letting it fall somewhere on the side, her eyes lazily opening to meet yours after your lips pecked her cheeks and eyelids.

-Holy shit.

-I guess you liked it then.

-Liked it? If you don’t fuck me with a blindfold on at least once a week, I swear I’ll fire you from the studio.

-Well, we can’t risk that. I guess I will have to obey mother and blow your brains out. – the room filled with chuckles and laughter, only muffled by her lips claiming yours, her tongue running over your lower one tasting the wound she had inflicted, but you didn’t seem to mind one bit. Upon parting you moved off of her to let her sit, Avis quickly chugging down the water that had been left in the glass. – Do you want to tell me what happened at the office today?

-Oh, fuck no. But I’ll tell you this. It’s always fucking Lon.

-Why doesn’t that surprise me.

-Now is my turn to ask. How do you know the station? – Avis rested her body against the headboard, picking up the feather you had abandoned over the mattress to toy with it, her breath slightly hurried still.

-When I came here for the first time Ernie offered me a job as a secretary, and I took it. And before you ask, it was just that. About three weeks later a lady came and she would have none of the boys, so I offered myself. Ernie was happy, the lady was happy, she paid well and so he hired me. But as strange as it sounds, there is not that big of a market for ladies that want to be entertained by ladies, so Ernie decided to not put me on contract for that part of the business and when I read about that job offer in the newspaper that Miss Kincaid needed a secretary I applied and got it. End of story.

-But you still visit.

-Yeah, he lets me oversee the accounts, and he likes having interesting conversations. It can get a bit boring hearing his precious boys talk about how they want to be in the big screen.

-And am I a hot topic?

-Always. He has told me many secrets about you, but I’m afraid I cannot tell you. I wouldn’t want to break his trust.

-Oh? – she pushed herself off the headboard, crawling your way with a naughty smirk on her lips, her eyes narrowing as she got closer to you. – Is mama going to have to fuck them out of you?

-Perhaps. – she was sitting on your thighs now, your hands resting behind you as to stabilise yourself. - He’s a very good friend, I really shouldn’t tell.

-Doesn’t mama mean more to you than him? Doesn’t mama do things to you that no one else does?

-Yes. – The word came out more breathless than you had intended, but it did not matter. Avis pushed herself to the side and picked up an item from the suitcase that was behind you, showing you the long leash you had seen before, a leather collar attached to it.

-Then be a good girl and start talking or I’m going to have you at my feet all night long. Pet.

[yourivyygrow]

SIREN SONG | counting summers, part 0

previous | next

your therapist-assigned vacations take a turn for the stranger when you discover an all-too-familiar compass in the local antique shop.

serie: counting summers, book one: the pull of the tide, szn one: where the current takes us

pairing: jj maybank x fem!reader

wordcount: 5.7k

warnings: parental neglect, references to depression, semi-explicit description of a suicide attempt

a/n: big project incoming lmaoo

THE HEAT IN your room was high enough to kill, you thought as you mindlessly clicked on the 'Next Episode' button.

North Carolina wasn't especially known for its remarkable hotness but the coast nearing summer? That was something else. The tank top and the jean shorts you sport on stuck to your skin like glue and if you wore any thinner or shorter, you'd probably end up being arrested for public indecency. As a whole, you weren't a big fan of the heat.

You weren't a big fan of anything, really. That's why your parents dragged you here.

"Y/N?" Called your mom's voice through the door after a few knocks. "Are you awake?"

You quickly glanced at the time. 4pm. She probably knew you were, but the number of times you slept through the day to escape it for a few hours were too numerous to count. You didn't resent her for asking. "Yeah," your answer was short, like usual when speaking to her. Waiting for her to talk again, you pressed pause on the beginning of the episode you were going to watch.

There was a short blank, you almost thought she left until she spoke up. "We need you to watch the house while your dad and I go down to the market. Can you do that?"

You sighed. Of course it was a demand. It always was. "Sure. Enjoy."

Your mom didn't say anything else, and your heard her steps going down the stairs leading to the living room of your AirBNB. Soon enough your dad and her will be slamming the front door shut and leaving you alone once more on the trip that was supposed to be for you.

I mean, it didn't surprise you, but you thought they would have hid their disdain a little better.

You never had a really good relationship with your parents. I mean, you were pretty sure you were an accident even though they didn't confirm it to you. This distant, cold, bordering on professional relationship with them took a turn for the worse when you grew up ─ and the thing was that you couldn't exactly pinpoint when. It just happened, along with the slow decline of your mental health.

Your dad was a passive presence in your life. He just wasn't there most of time: a quick hi and bye when you got in and out of school and asking to sign your failed tests which he didn't glance at twice. That's fine, in theory. Your mom was something else, though.

The more you grew up, the more you became sure that she had something against you. A type of intergenerational resentment, you thought, but you gave up analyzing that long ago. That's what your therapist advised you.

Which is why you were going to push all of that aside and resume your episode.

The characteristic sound of Outer Banks' opening music echoed through your headphones, calming your palpitating heart. John B's, well, more like Chase Stokes' voice followed soon enough, doing his classic narration at the beginning of the episode. That's what you liked so much about the show, the naturalness of it. It was sort of like watching someone read a diary.

Outer Banks wasn't your kind of show at all, which is why you didn't jump of it when it first appeared on Netflix in 2020. You were more of a fantasy drama kind of girl. The longest interaction you had with the media was probably when you lingered on the announcement of season 4 two months ago. Maybe it was a sign - because a week later, your therapist strongly advised you (more like ordered if you were asked) to go on vacations. Your mom jumped at the opportunity to "see a little of the coast" without asking much of your opinion or your dad's. So here you were, in North Carolina, in the actual, real life Outer Banks.

The only reason you picked it up was because you thought it would be funny considering your situation. A little taste of what it would be like. You started it a few days before taking your flight - turns out you stayed awake all night finishing season one because holy shit, was it addictive. You immediately understood why it got the success it did. So season two was downloaded and binged on the road as well as in plane, and you were set on finishing it today, as well as starting the third season. It's not like you had anything else to do, your mom clearly had plans of her own when it came to this trip and didn't try to include you in the slightest. You suspected, basically knew, the only reason she was there was for the vacations and only programmed them under the orders of your therapist to give herself some comfort about being a... well, shitty mom. No other way to say it.

It was fine, though. Now you were on the last episode and entirely hooked. A part of you didn't really want to keep on watching it - it meant one season less until you had to wait to season four to come out, until you had to say goodbye to the universe you got attached to for a little while. You had the bad habit to do that, get emotionally devoted to fictional universe and fall into heartbreak when it ended. It was way less scary than real life, you thought, but a thousand time more painful.

The other part of you, though, was dying to see how the season would conclude. That's the part who took over, against your better judgement.

The music stopped, the episode carried on and your focus wasn't wavered by the clinking of the front door keys.

     When people said they needed to reconnect with nature after something truly fucked happened, you thought they were joking. You never really experienced that apart from when you finished a really good book and had to spend one hour looking at a wall to compose yourself - it wasn't the same thing, was it?

The season two finale of Outer Banks had made you go into complete lethargy. And by lethargy I mean wide eyes, mouth agape, looking at the ceiling-lethargy. The black credit scene stared back at you like some kind of taunt, contrasted by the tempting white 'Next Episode' button. But you needed some time to gather your thoughts after... all of this.

You didn't hear your parents leaving. You were way too entraced in this one hour of pure adrenaline (by proxy, true, but it was still adrenaline) that you missed yelling at your mom to leave you the front door keys ─ you didn't expect her to remember by herself, and even you reminded her once you had to do it twice just in case. She had a good memory, except when it came to you. So, technically, you were stuck at the AirBNB until your parents came back.

But expecting you wouldn't find a way to go out was severely underestimating someone who seeked escapism in her own house.

You needed to breathe fresh air. Fiction affected your reality more than you liked to admit, sometimes taking more space than not, and the emotional rollercoaster you just went through was in desperate want of an outlet. It's with your heart thumping in your chest and your mind still hazy that you opened the kitchen's window downstairs and, as graceful as a whale out of the water, sneaked out of the house.

Usually, you were pretty good at sliding off soundly. The numbers of time you spent your sleepless evenings on the hidden corner of your house's rooftop were too uncountable by their recurrence. The numbers of time you actually went away to walk around the neighborhood for hours on end without your parents noticing were even bigger. You blamed your lack of grace as you fell from the window to the grass on the overwhelming heat.

After wiping any mud, dirt and green stains off you, you took a road you now knew too well. You didn't really explore your side of the Outer Banks, mainly because it didn't interest you much, you much preferred staying in the walls of your assigned room. But during one of the mandated visits your mom dragged you to so you could report at least something to your therapist, a small, broken down shop caught your eye almost immediately.

Your AirBNB was situated in a little coastal town, not far away from beaches and cliffs, big enough to have some well known shops, tourists attractions and bars, but not quite enough to be considered a city yet. Headphone on, blasting music, it took you a little below ten minutes to walk to the main street, still bustling with local life: street vendors were slowly packing up for the day while the food stands still held up, the strong aroma of spicy seafood seeking your nostrils, almost nauseating by its intensity. People with shopping bags pushed past you like they didn't see you, children were laughing and running around the surf shop at the end of the street - but that's not where you were headed.

You took a left turn into a much smaller, incommodious street that you'd definitely be way more scared to take at night. The sun was still bright in the sky due to the season, though, so you walked through it with your mind still reeling from the finale of your show.

The Pogues were stranded on an island, Poguetopia as they way too enthuastically called it. And Big John Routledge was alive, apparently? What was with dads and dying just to come back in this show. If your dad had to go in mysterious circumstances, you'd prefer he'd stay gone. Sometimes you thought your mom shared your opinion.

You finally arrived to the place you were looking for: Arianne's Lost and Found Antique Shop. A lirtle smile stretched your lips. It didn't look like much: the wooden insigna was mostly ate down my mices and the construction of the small shack made you wonder how it survived the tropical storms washing over the coast. Vines were growing on its facade, the smell of sea salt strongly emanated from the planks. The shop had this strange charisma to it, drawing you off the main street the first time. And the second. By the third time, Arianne knew you by name and because of that, you felt the obligation to come back every few days, if not every. Also because it was the only spot you didn't feel out of place.

The bell of the windowed front door rang aggressively when you pushed it open. The smell of sand and old books hit your nose instantly, a small comfort as you shivered slightly - the shop's interior was downright cold despite not having any air conditioning, and the never ending antique bookshelves lining the walls didn't do anything to bring warmth to the room.

A raspy, high-pitched voice rose up from behind a worryingly tall pile of clothes. "Y/N? Is that you, baby?"

"Who else?"

The tall figure of Arianne, the legend in the flesh, withdrew from behind the piled-up clothes. She was a lanky, dark-skinned woman with waist-lenght black and pepper curls. Her eyes, tired by age, sparked with kindness and mischief and while her cane was holding most of her weight, she still moved with a swift assurance that made you look twice when she passed by. When her eyes set upon you, a vivid smile lit up her face.

"What are you implying about my shop?" She asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Oh nothing, nothing..." You swiped your finger on a nearby shelf, covering it in dust, before looking back at Arianne expectantly.

The old woman raised her cane as if to hit you. "Why, you little-"

You sidestepped her as a chuckle escaped you. Soon enough, she let out a huffy laugh herself. Not a lot of tourists knew about the Lost and Found due to its... dubious placement. Athe locals seemed to avoid it like the plague. Business was bad, to say the least, and she knew it. You don't know how Arianne kept afloat and sometimes you told yourself you didn't want to know ─ at least, she knew the jokes were all in good fun.

"Some sketchy men came by yesterday night with some shit they left back there, if you're interested," she offhandedly said.

And obviously, your attention was caught by her words like a fish on a hook. "Really?"

"Would I lie about more junk cluttering this place?"

She nudged your foot with her cane in the direction of the new arrival. Without awaiting more words from the woman, you walked toward the back, dodging the multiple boxes filled to the brim with rusty silver plates and yellow partition papers. Ever since you discovered the Lost and Found there had been no new donations, you assumed because it was because its unpopularity. Turns out you were wrong.

When you reached the wooden walls alcove at the end of the shop, you were faced with a myriad of disarranged items spread out on a wavering table, varying in sizes and apperances but all sharing one similarity: the undeniable charm of being lost at sea. Arianne was quick behind you. "The guys who dropped this off were searching from some treasure, or something like that."

Your eyes were still fixed on the table in front of you when you answered. "Doesn't look like they found it."

"You tell me. Some of those things actually look kinda interesting, though. Didn't have time to look at 'em properly," said Arianne. "Made me think about you and your little show with all that treasure hunting."

You huffed. With your aversion of talking about yourself or any kind of small talk, obviously the topic you'd bring when you reluctantly had an interaction with someone would be your current fictional obsession. Or just plain silence. But this time it was the first case, right now it being Outer Banks. Most of the time people didn't stick by long enough for you to get talkative and speak up about it, or they would leave halfway through. But Arianne didn't, she let you rant about it for a week straight and seemed to enjoy when you briefed her about the last episodes you watched. It might have to do with how she didn't know how to make Netflix work - but you preferred lying to yourself and pretend she was actually interested.

"Thanks Arianne," you muttered.

With a wave of the hand, she shunned your gratitude aside. "Bah! No need to thank me for that garbage."

You didn't add anything else. With the tip of your fingers, you traced what looked like a small, rusty anchor, engraved with a delicate wheat symbol. After a comfortable silence, Arianne spoke up again.

"Anyways, I have some paperwork to get back to in the office. You'll tell me about the next episodes you watched when you'll be done looking through all that."

She turned around as you nodded without thinking, way too entranced by the objects already. Before leaving, she added, "Oh, and if you could sort stuff out. Would appreciate it."

She withdrew in a little corridor leading to her office. You didn't mind at all. A business, even failing, was still a business.

Plus, you had much to keep you occupied.

A gun to your temple wouldn't get you to admit it to anyone else but yourself but back when you were still holding on to school and your passions, you were a bit of a history nerd. Not the big parts of history, but the small, obscure parts nobody cared much about: the pirates, the lost treasures, the lost myths, legends and sea goddesses. That's one of the main part of Outer Banks that hooked you. It reminded you of you, a few years back. Before everything

You started looking through the mess of silver, plated gold and rust. They were beautiful, their sheen a little tainted by time and salt water, yes, but still beautiful. In your eyes at least.

Rummaging through them was an arduous task as some of them seemed to be tangled together (and good luck detangling metal) but somehow you enjoyed it. Organizing them by color, type, time they might have been lost... you liked it, the order. You didn't consider it as a job when Arianne asked you to arrange her messiest piles of clutter, which is why you refused the money she offered you the first time. You just appreciated being in contact of history, as insignificant as it was, and the satisfaction of putting everything where it should be.

An hour must have passed, maybe a little more: the sun was visibly declining in the sky through the window, painting the dark room in soft shades of yellow and orange. You were almost done sorting through everything: to your surprise ─ note the sarcasm ─ not a lot of interesting things came out of it. Old cutlery, navigation tools too damaged to be considered worthwhile... a big pile of nothings. But it kept you entertained for a bit.

That's when the sun fell low enough to hit something on the far end of the table, catching the corner of your eye. A small glimpse, so very little you could've missed it by blinking. Curiosity took over your being - you were pretty sure you didn't notice anything of the sort before.

Reaching out your hand, you took a hold of it.

A compass.

It was average-sized and not as rusty as the other objects, so it must have not been in contact with the sea water for as long. An intricate design was engraved on the gold of the cover, with different flowers, accompanied by a line of text around it you couldn't quite make out. It looked strangely familiar, to the point your stomach flipped a little at the first observation.

You clicked on the button at the top to open it. The inside was quite... normal: the usual arrows, lines and whatnots. Except that, while you weren't a navigator, you were grown up enough to know that one of the arrows wasn't pointing north at all. Which was too bad because it was the entire point of a compass. Must be broken.

It hits you when you close it, like a speeding truck, your reflection staring back at you through the engravings. You knew exactly where the sense of familiarity came from.

The compass you had in your hand was too alike, down to every points, to the one John B inherited from his dad in Outer Banks. The one that kickstarted the whole show.

Your jaw dropped open. Outer Banks wasn't filmed in the actual Outer Banks, that you knew, because they mainly shot in South Carolina. But you assumed some scenes must have taken place in North Caroline because you were pretty sure that what you had in your hands was an official prop - I mean, that's the only thing it could be, right? How would a random compass dropped in the sea could look so much like John B's? Maybe they lost it while filming a boat or sea scene and it got washed up by the tide, who knows.

You almost fell while hurrying to Arianne's office. Luckily, she seemed to be getting out at the same time. She stared you down as you stood in front of her, not uttering anything. You didn't even know what you were going to say. You just wanted to show her. "Are you okay? Do I have something in my tee- Sweet Jesus, did you break something?!" She immediately started walking to the alcove you just left.

You put yourself in her way. "No, no, I didn't break anything. I just- I found something."

"Something valuable?" She asked, an eager smile finding its way to her lips.

"Uh... depends on what you call valuable?"

"I mean monetary value. Cash. Something that can help me pay rent, baby."

You didn't answer. Instead, you showed her your hand.

The smile on Arianne's lips faltered almost immediately. If you were being honest, you'd think it's because it was only some piece of junk among other things for her ─ except that for you it wasn't. At all.

She carefully took it in her palm. "A... compass. Where did you find it?" The woman toyed with it as if it was made of glass.

"In the stuff you showed me." Arianne sighed. You didn't pay it any mind, choosing to continue. "Listen, it looks like an exact copy of the one in the TV show I'm always telling you about, y'know? I think it might be like, a lost prop or something and-"

You stopped abruptly when you saw Arianne's eyes. You were pretty perceptive of other's emotions and right now, it looked like everything in her world broke inside her eyes the moment you said your sentence. You stood there, awkwardly, as she was detailing you. Then the compass. You. The compass. "Uh... did I say something wrong?"

She snapped back to her normal self, as if on cue. "No, no baby absolutely not. I'm just... happy to see you this joyful. It doesn't happen a lot except for when you tell me about that show of yours."

This made the situation even more awkward for you. God, you hated when people said that: pitying you so openly. 'We know you're miserable but hey! At least sometimes you seem happy, it means you're on the way to be fixed!'. Like there was something to fix. Well, apparently there was, and it could be resolved in a two weeks trip.

You chose to push your thoughts aside with a shake of the head. Opening your mouth, you were getting ready to ask her about holding on to it, fueling your Netflix-induced obsession in the process. Arianne anticipated it.

"You can keep it." She hastily spoke, putting the compass back in your hand like it burnt her.

This time, you were the one looking at the compass then back at her. "Really?" You were stunned that Arianne, out of all people, would give away something from her shop that easily.

"Yeah. As a thanks for keeping an old lady company," her palm wrapped over yours, folding your fingers around the object. "For helping with the shop and organizing my stuff."

Her voice was tight with emotions for a reason unknown to you. You didn't think it was that big of a deal but apparently she did, so you kept quiet whispering a muted 'Thank you'.

Taking back her hand, Arianne stood up a little straighter. "Anyways, you've been back there a while now. Better get home before it gets too dark. You never know what happens in the street these days, and your mother might barge in and accuse me of kidnapping."

You fought the urge to tell her that she didn't care enough to do it. A good point she made, though, was that walking all alone as a tourist and as a woman in the middle of night somewhere you barely knew directions never lead to anything good. So, as she slapped the back of your legs with her cane, you hurried your steps toward the front doors, exchanging thanks and casualties, never forgetting to tell her you'll be back tomorrow.

Before you left though, she called for you. "Y/N? Just... be careful with an old thing like that. Most often they tend to pull you places, whether you're ready for it or not."

What? You frowned, confused, but her ominous words were heard by one ear and left by the other the second you stepped outside.

     You genuinely thought you knew the way from Arianne's Lost And Found Antique Shop to your house by heart.

Turns out you were miserable and arrogant. You were definitely lost. What a combo.

Maybe it was the setting darkness that confused you, the last fingers on sunlight warming up your bare arms as the cold night breeze slowly took over. The roads seemed to all look the same, the nightlife was surely taking on the bars and the dimly lit streets. You were starting to panic. Mainly because even though your parents wouldn't care much about you being gone, they would care about you coming back that late, through the kitchen window. You'd be in for a long, long monologue about irresponsability. Again.

Yeah, you didn't seem to be getting anywhere. Great. Amazing, even.

The compass you tied to the belt loop of your shorts prickled the skin underneath and the ghost of a grin appeared on your face. You had an actual prop from Outer Banks. How cool was that?

You carefully detached it, detailing it once again. The strange warmth from the metal seemed to spread from your palm to your fingertips, calling you to open it. Which you did like you were compelled to. Plus, it could eventually help you find some directions. Your AirBNB was probaly on the south-west or something like─

The arrow was definitely pointing south now.

You assumed it was broken earlier, it was stupid to think it would be magically fixed as soon as you stepped out of the store. You took a turn in another mystery street, trying to find any directions that could lead somewhere even a tiny bit familiar to you, eyes still fixated on the intricate drawings of the compass.

That was when the arrows shifted, gently, like they were pushed by the wind, to point the exact direction you strayed away from.

Your heart skipped beat. Acting on instinct and panic, you shook the compass - you didn't know why you did, actually, but it didn't change the fact the arrows wouldn't budge from the direction they shifted to. You walked a few, agonizingly slow, steps back, not to startle anyone that might... magically make the arrows move? Now you were overreacting.

Still, you stood on the exact spot where you pulled out the compass a few minutes ago and under your incredulous eyes, the arrows shifted again. When your head rose up from the tool to the environment around you they pointed to a little dirt road in front of you you hadn't seen before.

No other words could describe the situation other than creepy.

Your heart was hammering against your ribcage, dangerously threatening to burst out of it. The dark blue tint of the sky and the general silence of your surroundings didn't help your anxiety - or was it some sort of thrill? You didn't know. Nevertheless, the arrows pointed, taunting you by sitting motionless in their glass capsule.

You tentatively moved forward. You could've sworn for a second the little needles looked like they were trembling in agreement.

A part of you wanted to believe this weird compass that strangely looked like the one in your favorite TV show had a conscience of its own and was leading you to something. The other, more rational part of yourself was screaming about how delusional you sounded and that you should get home right now before getting jumped, mauled, assaulted or all three at the same time.

Except that what it called 'home' was a tiny house with a cracked yellow wallpaper and leaky sinks in which no one spoke to each other unless obligated to. Something your mom rented last minute without considering if you even wanted to go, still pretexting it was all for you. A blacked-out room and a screen that burnt your thighs due to overuse but the red scar it left felt more like love than the glances your parents threw your way. Four walls filled with a graveyard silence, you wished to scream into it sometimes but the voice just couldn't come out.

Seeking escapism from your own household, your own life, was what you did best. So you walked down that dirt road, an iron grip around the compass.

     You followed its lead desperately, panting like a dog. Each of your steps quickened until you were running ─ you didn't even know where you were anymore, your phone probably ran out of battery by now, your headphones were hanging on for dear life around your neck and your hair was carried by the speed in which you moved. You passed by small, rural houses, hurried through a somber forest and almost slipped into mud, nearly colliding with a night owl and blindly obeying the compass' lead.

Until you were faced with the shore.

Your feet, aching from the run, stopped when the soft texture of the amber sand bent under them. It took a while for your mind to catch up with your body, but when it finally did, the last breaths you had in your lungs got knocked out of them: the sky was now of a deep ink, filled with clear, bright stars ─ which means you were far away enough from the main city to see them properly. The only source of light was the full moon, reflecting on the never ending sea unraveling in front of you. The beach seemed to extend for a while as well, and the slow hum of the waves was all you could hear apart from your ragged breathing. It was calm. Peaceful.

You peeked at the compass in your hand, hoping something would finally happen. This place looked like finality. Something happened alright: It stopped pointing and the arrows were spinning in erratic circles.

You swiftly closed the compass, tying it to your belt loop once again. No reactions would come out of your body even if you seeked one, you were too worn out. Walking from the treeline to the seaside like an automat, you let yourself fall on your back upon the sand, the water brushing your shoes when the tide rose up.

The stars looked down on your near breathless body. Tormenting you with their enormitude, their meaning, their greatness.

With nothing else around you but the shore, it struck you just how empty you were.

You don't know when it all fell down, if there ever was a reason - many people told you, at first, that you didn't need a reason to feel the way you did. That was when you tried to talk about it. But this thing inside of you, this black hole, relentless, just took more amplor as time went by. Sucking in everything inside of it. It lasted, and because of that you were now messy, lazy, disorganized. You couldn't take showers for weeks, you hadn't brushed your teeth in months, you wore the same clothes and didn't feel anything strongly enough to cry about it. You didn't have a reason, it made you selfish.

You didn't know if you were. You didn't know anything except the fact you didn't. Plato would be proud.

You gradually fell out of everything: you had hobbies, you had passions, you had people you could somewhat call friends, you had plans for the future until you simply didn't.

At first you tried to blame your parents. You tried to be angry at them, to yell and accuse: it came out in a whisper. You tried to gain their affection, their love, their care but how could you crave something you never experienced? You attempted to make them the perpetrators of the barrenness of your being but the trust was as simple as that: you were the only one guilty for letting the black hole grow until you became one with it.

You tried to kill yourself to see if it would do something interesting to your body.

You were just so numb, and nothing was holding you back, was it? Your grades were dwindling at a dizzying speed, crushing the chances to get into the college you used to dream about when you still went to school, your parents hadn't talked to you in three days, you missed your therapist appointments for a month. If you died, maybe something would finally jolt you back to life. The pills went down your throat so easily. You sat in your full bathtub, letting the splashes of water serenade you to Morpheus' arms.

After that everything was kind of a blur. You don't remember much of the hospital, the drive back home. Everything just fell back into place. You were still a painfully empty shell, only with one more story to tell.

Your therapist prescribed you those improvised vacations for this specific reason: to change your mind about being alive. The thing was you didn't want to die, but you weren't that attached to life either - you just were. Apparently it wasn't enough. It never was.

Dr. Sullivan, your therapist, told you this was why you grew so dependant to fiction. They did all the things you were scared to do: they fell in love in a mess of tears and hearbreak, they screamed until their throats gave out, they hated so brightly and cried so ugly. They lived and you didn't. You felt safe in the hollow. Untouched, unharmed. And you searched an exit sign.

She was wrong about that. About most things, really, you stopped listening to her a while ago. You didn't feel safe in the desolation, you were safe. You didn't hunt for an out, you've gotten used to it, why would you put yourself through the hardship of changing something so stable? The vacantness grew comfortable. It was just you, now. The endless black hole.

A cold tear fell down your cheek onto the sand. It was something that often happened: your body translated emotions your heart and guts didn't communicate to you. Unless it activated your fight-or-flight response, you automatically tried to push it down.

You would wipe it away but the run pumped you all out of strength: every muscles in your body implored for you to leave them alone, your mind was too exhausted to form coherent thoughts, let alone words, and your eyelids grew heavy and solid as rocks. You'd worry about the consequences of your action tomorrow morning. Even if, deep down, you knew no one concerned themselves enough with you for you to actually have an effect on the world.

The sound of the waves, growing more and more intense, coaxed you to sleep like a familiar lullaby. The feeling of the salt water brushing against your fingertips took the role of a blanket, if not a shield, against the rest of the world.

And just like that, you were gone.

[writingescapades]

Hate Your Smile

A/N: With all the alternate stories and tender moments, I often forget that in the main story plot, the player knows very little about Rafayel. So I thought to play around with my thoughts and this story came out. There's a lot we don't know about Rafayel and, tbh, of all the boys, I don't really know why he loves the player. I can't seem to believe the "just fell in love" trope. For the sacrifices he makes, I don't know what he gets out of their bond. It just makes me more curious about him. Sorry if I got some of the main story / side stories stuff mixed up.

Rafayel hated your smile. Not the bright one that greeted him on a day off. Not the one that slowly crept upon your face when you were tired. Not the wide open one when you saw something you like, and especially not the cheeky one when he found himself caught in your tricks. He loved your expressions, but he hated your smile. It was devious. Your eyes never lied, but your lips did, and unfortunately, your voice always followed your smile. He had seen your smile when you dared to utter blasphemous thoughts. He saw it when you handed him your heart. And now, with his arms caging you against the kitchen counter, Rafayel saw your smile again as you lied to him.

“The black market is a murky depth, full of unforeseen monsters. Are you sure a fishy like you would survive?”

“Of course!” you replied, quick with the smile.

“Liar. You’re just trying to reassure me”.

Rafayel leaned back against his elbows on the opposite side of the kitchen. He looked at you with half-open eyes as you spoke some words to diffuse the situation before scoffing and turning his head. He knew you had forgotten him, and it wasn’t that he didn’t want you in his life again, but every time he met you, he was reminded of how little he really knew you. Every time he would have to break past your guard, only to lose you in the end. When he met you again, you had a new guard and the story would repeat. Each time he looked into your eyes, he wanted to scream, to beg you to please remember him if only to confirm whether you even wanted him in your life. Why couldn’t you just recognize him with the same depth his eyes held for you? When would he finally get answers to questions that plagued him for centuries?

“Why don’t you tell me what you’re really feeling?” he blatantly asked. He was beginning to tire of the secrecy, but your bond was too fragile for the truth.

He words cut through yours and your lips tightened your smile. What? Did Rafayel want to hear you say that yes, you were scared of the black market? Who wouldn’t be? Did he want proof that you were inexperienced? Unreliable? A burden? Was he just sniffing out an excuse to keep you away. You wanted to snap at him, to scowl and ask him to stop calling you a bodyguard if he wasn’t going to treat you as one. But you didn’t. You couldn’t tell the man in front of you anything because, you realized, you didn’t know him. He was just Rafayel, the grumpy shady painter. You admired him. His art intrigued you, and you found yourself wanting to help him, but you hated his secrecy. You hated the drawl of his voice as they cajoled you to let your guard down while his eyes shifted. You didn’t trust him. Not with the little tender bits that made up who you were. You couldn’t trust anyone with that, and you weren’t about to blab to a stranger who would do who knows what with your information. So you softened your smile and attempted to console the painter once more.

“Well it would be a new environment, but I’m sure my skills will adapt easily. It’s a great learning opportunity!” you reaffirmed.

Rafayel’s eyes darkened as he mused over your words.

“The black market? Just an opportunity, eh?”

His voice was strained as he spoke, but when he looked back up at you his eyes had returned to their blue-pink colour, revealing nothing behind their owner’s voice. You stood straighter and stared hard at Rafayel.

“Well? What else were you expecting?”

He leaned back into his elbows, his eyes watching as a lazy smile appeared.

“The truth, naturally”.

You smiled.

[venus-haze]

Kick It Out (Queen Maeve x Reader)

Summary: Maeve doesn’t date, for her own good and that of anyone she might be interested in. Teaching you how to kickbox definitely isn’t dating, even if the two of you do flirt every time you’re alone.

Note: Female reader with some references to being plus size, but not enough for me to designate the fic as such. No other descriptors are used. This takes place slightly before Homelander outed Maeve, but she still does a lot of internal shittalking about him. Hopefully I did well with her characterization because I’m already planning a follow-up. Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Some references to homophobia Maeve’s experienced. Homelander vaguely threatens the reader to Maeve. Semi-public fingering, Maeve's kinda rough. Do not interact if you’re under 18.

It was a coincidence, really, when Maeve walked by Vought’s employee gym during one of the yoga sessions that was part of HR’s company wellness initiative. She’d forgotten Vought even had that, not interacting much with the corporation's rank and file on a regular basis and using The Seven’s exclusive gym to train. The employee gym was spacious, clean, and at that moment filled with dozens of Vought employees in a rainbow of athleticwear. Maeve could remember the old Jane Fonda workout tapes her mom used to put on in the mornings, how pleased she was with little Maggie’s rapt attention at the videos. You always need to keep your body moving, Maggie. It’s so important. 

Her eyes scanned the group lazily until they landed on you in the middle of a stretch that made Maeve feel like that little girl staring at Jane Fonda in spandex all over again. She licked her lips, giving you a quick once over before anyone could notice. You would become target number one the moment Homelander got a whiff she was remotely interested in you. Her fists clenched at the thought of how he–and her own complacency–ruined her relationship with Elena. She couldn’t do that to you, not that she even knew your name, and she wouldn’t learn it if she could help it. She wasn’t that selfish.

At least, that’s what she thought, until somehow she kept running into you. An interview here, a briefing there, she wasn’t even sure what you did at Vought exactly. It didn’t matter. You clearly hadn’t drunk the Kool-Aid, viewing your job as a way to pay the bills instead of the feverish devotion so many of its employees had. She started looking forward to seeing you, taking the opportunity to stand next to you when she could and exchange quips back and forth about how corny a promotion seemed or how weird the marketing team was. 

Like clockwork, though, you’d be in the employee gym whenever the yoga classes were being held. She casually brought it up one day, asking if you were really that into yoga, or just taking advantage of the free classes.

You nodded. “Yoga’s nice, but I’d love to get into kickboxing or something. I’m kind of nervous to sign up for a class. I’ve never done anything like that before, and I’m afraid I won’t be able to keep up.”

“I can teach you,” Maeve said, the words coming out of her mouth before she could even think.

“Are you sure? That’d be great, but only if you have the time and everything.”

“Yeah, let me give you my number. It’ll be easier to plan that way.”

You handed your phone to her, and she quickly entered her personal number into your messages, texting a simple ‘Hey’ to herself. She hesitated a moment before giving you back your phone. Okay, this was for real. She was committing to it. 

“I’ll text you later. I’m free most weeknights, so just let me know,” you said cheerfully.

A sour mix of excitement and regret clouded her mind until you left, and as she walked down the hall to the elevator, she thought she’d at least have a chance to at least convince herself that it wouldn’t be that bad. She was never that lucky.

“Uncharacteristically nice of you to offer to help out Y/N,” Homelander said, almost as if materializing out of nowhere.

Maeve balled her hands into fists at her side. Why did he always have to be lurking? Recently, he had been fucking off to god only knows where, sometimes for days at a time. Of course he had to be around when she finally made a move. “I’m just full of surprises.”

“Your heart’s beating like a racehorse, Maeve. You’re not that excited about just practicing some kickboxing moves, are you? I’d be a better partner than her, in that case. You and I are practically indestructible. Her on the other hand—it’s amazing how fragile humans are.”

Maeve remained silent, letting out a shaky breath as she refused to acknowledge his taunting.

“You think she knows her sports bra is a size too small? I mean, one downward dog and her tits are practically spilling out of—“

“Get a grip,” Maeve snapped.

“Hey, don’t be like that. It’s just locker room talk,” Homelander said, a menacing smile plastered across his face. “Speaking of surprises, I wonder what Y/N would think if she knew this was all a ploy for you to get into those tight yoga pants of hers. I guess I can’t blame you. Not exactly my type, but with the way you can see her panty line through them, she’s practically asking for it.”

“Asking for what?” she asked, standing taller as she looked him in the eye, daring him to make his threat. 

“Hit a nerve there, huh, Maeve?”

“Mind your business, and I’ll mind mine.”

“Well, you sure know how to pick ‘em,” he said abruptly.

She knew him well enough that it meant someone was coming down the hall, and he didn’t want them hearing a word he said. Scoffing, she shook her head as she walked away, trying to keep a brave face as she made her way to the elevator. 

Storming into her suite, she slammed the door behind her and threw the nearest breakable object at the wall before collapsing onto the couch, her head in her hands. Fuck. She’d been too obvious, too careless, and now you were going to be on the receiving end of it. Keeping her distance wouldn’t be fair to you, and it’d only put you in more danger when it came to Homelander. As much of a Girl Scout as Starlight could be sometimes, at least she was willing to risk it all for Hughie, even when he was lying through his teeth to her about Butcher and Compound V. At the very least, Maeve could do the same for you moving forward.

Still, she decided she was way too sober for her liking, and dug through her cabinets to find a half-drunk bottle of vodka, wanting to escape the gravity of the situation she found herself in for just a little while. 

The next day, she woke up a few minutes past eleven, her head pounding as she checked her phone. A few missed calls and texts, including one from you: ‘Hey! Homelander said you were sick. Hope you feel better soon💐’

Between the thought of Homelander being near you and her raging hangover, Maeve leaned over the side of the bed, throwing up into the nearby trash can. She got another text from Ashley, asking if she’d still be able to do her designated crime fighting schedule that night since she was supposed to team up with A-Train. Staring at the text, she grinned, getting out of bed to choke down a few aspirin and make her way to crime analytics.

The department’s office was depressingly dark, and the girl who nervously pulled up the schedule for the next few weeks looked like she hadn’t slept in days. Opening the notes on her phone, she quickly typed what days and times Homelander would be away from the tower. It wasn’t perfect, but it’d do while she figured out how to take control of the situation. 

Your kickboxing lessons with her began a little after seven on a Thursday evening. Maeve had asked you to keep everything under wraps, claiming she didn’t want everyone pestering her to train them. This was a one-off thing because you were friends. She was relieved at how your face lit up when she put it that way.

The whole arrangement made her realize how rusty she was at flirting with someone she was actually interested in, as opposed to the sleazy guys she’d bring up to the tower for one-night stands only to kick them out afterward. Training with you was great, you were eager to learn despite struggling to pick up some of the moves. She took the opportunity to stand close to you, putting her arms over yours and guiding your movements, her body framing yours. Sometimes her hands would linger over your skin, feeling how soft you were against her until she felt you shiver or heard your breath hitch. The physical, intimate closeness drove her crazy. In those moments, she wondered what your whole body felt like, your stomach and thighs surely plush beneath her fingertips.

Things came to a head during your fourth training session. Homelander hadn’t been at the tower for a day or so, and you were acting bolder. There was no way you didn’t catch her staring at the way you bounced around while Heart’s ‘Kick It Out’ blasted from the speakers you’d connected your phone to. She was sure you were doing it on purpose at that point.

“I think I’m almost as good as you,” you joked, beads of sweat rolling down your forehead.

She laughed. “Alright, let’s see what you’ve got.”

“Bring it on!”

Wiping the sweat from your brow, you stood across from her on the training mat. Your stance wasn’t the best, but you were trying despite her dodging your blows with ease. Just because she liked you, it didn’t mean she was going to hand you a win. You were having fun, a smile on your face as she caught your lifted leg before you could really kick.

In any other scenario, she figured you could hold your own pretty well in a fight with a non-supe. You threw a punch which Maeve blocked without so much as blinking. One more time, you went for another kick, only for her to send you flat on your back with a thud.

She pinned you to the mat, the two of you silent except for your breathing. Maeve didn’t do anything but stare at your face, just mere inches from hers for a few moments. God, you were fucking pretty. Your eyes seemed to sparkle despite the harsh gym lighting, and your parted lips were almost calling to her.

“You win,” you said softly from beneath her.

“Do I get a prize?”

“Wanna get drinks after this? On me?”

She smiled, reluctantly getting up from on top of you. “Hope you have your credit card ready.”

You took her outstretched hand, almost surprised at how fluidly she pulled you up onto your feet, until you remembered she was the strongest woman in the world, after all. The fact that she was getting drinks with you was a plus.

“I know a few places in my neighborhood, if you don’t mind going out to Brooklyn,” you said. “They’re kind of dives, but they’re fun.”

“That honestly sounds perfect.”

“Okay. I’m gonna shower and change really quick.”

She nodded. “Take your time.”

As soon as you disappeared into the locker room, Maeve looked down at her costume, internally groaning. It was the furthest thing from inconspicuous. In all honesty, she missed having a secret identity, the small thing that separated her from the persona that Vought manufactured for her. Whether for sentimentality or foolish hope of a situation like this one, she’d kept some of her street clothes. 

Glancing at the locker room again, she decided to rush up to her suite and throw on something that would afford the two of you some privacy. Tapping her foot impatiently, she waited for the elevator doors to open before slipping inside and pressing the button for her floor.

When she reached her suite, she frowned at the selection of clothing in her dresser. Touching one shirt, she felt a lump form in her throat. The somewhat coarse fabric sent memories rushing back, she’d worn it on one of her last dates with Elena, before she handed her whole life over to Vought and Homelander sunk his hooks into her. There was a slight stain on the sleeve, evidence of Elena’s wine glass that had tipped over when some asshole decided to make it clear that he didn’t approve of their date, so he had to make it the whole restaurant’s problem. When he started becoming aggressive, Maeve grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him over, knocking him into at least three other tables with the sheer force she used. That was the catalyst for her initially fake relationship with Homelander, as Vought’s marketing team decided it would improve her image after the incident. 

She exhaled, shaking her head as she tried grounding herself. Things could be different with you. She’d take back control of her life—from Vought, from Homelander, from her own self-sabotage. Her outfit choice for the kind-of-but-not-really date was simple. She ran her fingers through her signature styled waves, messing her hair up a bit to make her less recognizable. Seeing herself in the mirror, she smiled. For the first time in months, she looked and felt like herself.

Her phone buzzed, and to her relief, it was a text from you.

‘Hey! Ready to go when you are🍻’ 

Biting her lip, she retyped her response to you three times before sending, ‘Great be down in a min😄’ 

She instantly regretted her choice of emoji, but it didn’t matter, something that simple wasn’t going to ruin her night. After all, she couldn’t remember the last time she was asked out by someone she actually liked. You hadn’t explicitly said it was a date, but the tension was there, and Maeve hoped to god she wasn’t reading too much into things.

You were waiting in the gym for her, now changed back into your work clothes of a blouse and skirt. In the meantime, you had pulled up the info for some of the bars that you and your friends frequented in your neighborhood. She looked over them quickly, settling on a 70s-themed one you recommended based on the decor and cheap burgers. Her mind raced while the two of you walked down the hall and to the elevator, deciding to leave through a service corridor rather than the building’s main floor.

As the elevator made its descent to the lower levels of the building, Maeve figured she at least owed it to you to let you know what you were getting yourself into. She’d already put you at risk with the amount of time she was spending with you. You looked at her in confusion when she pressed the emergency stop. 

“You know this isn’t just drinks, right?”

You smiled a bit, “What is it then?”

“Y/N, I’m serious,” she said. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Maeve, can you just be real with me instead of the cryptic shit?”

“Fuck," she groaned. "Okay, look. I’m into you, but Homelander’s a jealous son of a bitch who won’t let me have a life, so the fact that we’ve been spending time together and going out for drinks means you’re in serious danger.”

You were quiet for a few moments. She took your silence as an understandable rejection, moving to press the emergency stop button to bring you back up until you spoke. 

“I’ll take the risk.”

“Are you sure? Y/N, Homelander won’t hold back. I’ll do what I can to protect you, but–”

You looked at her, really looked at her, as she laid out the risks for you clear as day. It didn’t matter. You’d come to the conclusion pretty quickly that she was worth it. She was Queen fucking Maeve for Christ’s sake. Most importantly, though, you were into her too, and you’d never forgive yourself for passing up the opportunity to go out with her and see where things led.

As she was in the middle of listing ways Homelander could kill you, you interrupted her with a quick peck on the lips, enough to startle her out of her rant for a moment. That seemed to get the message through, because she kissed you, backing you into the elevator wall across from the closed doors. 

You parted your lips for her, happy to let her take the lead as she cupped your cheek in her hand, her fingers pulling your face closer to her. Even though she’d just pinned you to the floor less than an hour earlier, you were taken aback by how strong she was. She bit gently on your bottom lip, her teeth tugging at it before kissing you again. 

Groping one of your breasts through your blouse, she moved her hand further down your body until she reached your thighs, her fingers gently tracing undistinguishable patterns into your skin. You could feel her start to play with the hem of your skirt before sliding her hand beneath it.

You whispered a soft “yes” against her lips when her fingers brushed against the damp spot on your panties. Pressing her fingers against your core, she watched your face contort in pleasure as you whimpered for more. 

It felt like eternity before she finally pushed her hand past the cotton material and began teasing your clit, ignoring your aching pussy. She pressed hot, open kisses against your skin before settling on the crook of your neck, biting into the tender skin so hard you almost thought it would break. 

“Maeve, fuck,” you moaned.

“Too hard?”

You bit your lip, shaking your head. “Harder.”

Maeve grinned, slipping her index and middle fingers into your pussy, and you were almost embarrassed at how wet you were. She didn’t care, curling her fingers inside you, pumping them in and out until your breath caught in your throat. You gasped as you gripped her shoulders, trying to keep your legs from giving out from under you. Using her other hand, she held you up by your thigh, her fingers squeezing your soft flesh. 

You leaned your head back against the wall, eyes fluttering shut as she began rubbing her thumb against your clit, bringing her attention back to it as your pussy clenched around her fingers. She brought her lips to your ear, her teeth grazing your earlobe before she whispered, “You gonna cum for me, baby?”

“I’m close,” you barely managed to say.

“Don’t hold back. I wanna feel you,” she said, her voice raspy as she squeezed your thigh for emphasis. 

“Fuck–fuck, I’m–”

You came on her hand, fully relying on her strength to keep you up as she kept fingering you through your orgasm. Pressing her lips to yours, you were hardly able to kiss her back as you moaned into her mouth, your fingers clawing at the wall behind you as you tried getting a grip on something.

Finally, she pulled her hand from your pussy, and the one that had been holding you by your thigh wrapped around your waist to support you. She brought her hand to her mouth, licking your juices off of them so casually you wouldn’t have thought anything of it. You kissed her again, feeling lightheaded at the taste of yourself on her lips. Still, you figured someone must have noticed by then that the elevator wasn’t working. You didn’t even want to think about anyone finding you and Maeve like that, especially if Homelander ended up hearing about it through the grapevine.

“My roommate’s working the night shift,” you whispered, your voice noticeably hoarser than before. “I’ve got beer at my place.”

“Fuck the bar,” Maeve said, kissing you again.

You let out a yelp that dissolved into a fit of giggles as she literally swept you off your feet. She smiled, pressing the emergency stop button, sending the two of you back down to the service corridor you’d be slipping out into the night from.

[musette22]

The Bucharest scene from CW showed up on my YouTube page and reminded me once more of how much marvel screwed up the reunion scene.

Steve and Bucky's reunion should have been soft and warm. Comfortable for both of them. Giving Bucky the time to understand that Steve will always love him no matter what and that he wouldn't be judged or punished for what he had while he was being tortured and controlled. Giving Steve the time to realise that the Bucky he believed in is still there. His Bucky, who loves him and who will stay away from him if it means keeping him safe. Instead we got a quick conversation followed by a fight and they were separated again.

What I wouldn't give a soft, heartfelt reunion that includes Bucky taking Steve to his favourite fruit market and cooking him his favourite Romanian dishes that he's learnt. Wondering if all this just temporary and Steve will eventually go back to America and realising that he's there to stay ❤

Oh my god, I could not agree with you more. I'm thankful for what that scene did give us, like the notebook which is so very incriminating in the best way, and Steve so desperately needing Bucky to remember him (and the guys did such a great job with what they had!) but other than that, it's just... not it.

It should have focused on the fact that this was the first time in so, so long that it was just the two of them in the same room, both of them in full control of their faculties. It should've given them the opportunity to remember and reconnect and reassure, something they both desperately needed. It should've given them more time, and it shouldn't have been rushed, and it shouldn't have ended, once again, in a fight. I understand that they had a whole lot of plot to fit into that movie and that that's why they rushed a lot of parts of it, but that could've been avoided by, you know, focusing on Steve's story, and not making it goddamn Avengers movie focusing heavily on Tony 🙄

Anyway, there's a reason I've only seen CW in its entirety once (maybe twice?), and it's because as a whole, considering what it seemed to set itself and us up for with the previous movie and aside from a few great scenes like the fight with Tony, it felt inadequate and disappointing. Especially knowing how much Steve and Bucky footage they apparently cut, once they realised how big Stucky was getting. Aahhh. Thanks I hate it 🙃

But anyway, what you're describing at the end there is wonderful and perfect (all the plums for Bucky! Steve going wherever Bucky's going!), and fortunately we have fanfiction and fanart to give us that, and everything else we (and they!) deserve ❤️

[hopelesslygaysstuff]

pairing: wanda maximoff x fem!reader

summary: sex, but it's gentle

content warnings: fingering, begging

word count: 3.6k

Series Masterlist

The rest of the workday was surprisingly productive. Y/n had spent an hour mindlessly paging through the random book she picked up and replaying the kiss in her mind before she finally paid attention to the page she was on. She read for a few minutes with increasing curiosity before glancing at the cover. The book was essentially an informational guide to BDSM relationships, so y/n fingered she should start from the beginning and flipped back to the first page.

As y/n read her book, Wanda caught up on her own work. There was an event being thrown the next weekend that required a lot of attention from her, so she spent most of her day approving plans from various departments. At one point she stepped out for a quick meeting with the marketing team to discuss poster designs, and when she came back she found y/n standing in front of the bookshelf. 

“You already finished the introductory book?” Wanda asked, surprise coloring her voice. Y/n turned to her with a sheepish grin. “I’ve always been a fast reader, and the book was pretty good.” She admitted as she watched Wanda walk over to her before turning back to the bookshelf. As her eyes roamed the different titles, she felt Wanda move to stand beside her. 

“Would you like some recommendations?” Wanda’s voice was directly in y/n’s ear. She turned slightly to face the other woman, before instantly regretting it. Up close, she could see the faint freckles that dusted Wanda’s cheeks and once again the smell of vanilla took over her senses. Y/n glanced down at Wanda’s lips briefly before tearing her gaze away and staring resolutely at the books. 

“That would be nice.” She said stiffly, and Wanda hummed before selecting a few books. As she did, her body moved slightly closer to y/n’s but didn’t quite touch hers. Wanda handed the two books she pulled from the shelf to the shorter girl, and smirked as y/n stared straight ahead. 

“Look at me.”

Y/n’s jaw clenched slightly before she turned her head and looked Wanda directly in the eyes. Green eyes crinkled slightly as the other woman smiled, which drew y/n’s gaze down to her lips. Again. 

“Good girl.” Wanda whispered before abruptly turning away and returning to her desk. 

‘Goddamn it, don’t think about the kiss, don’t think about the… and now I’m thinking about the kiss. Great.”

Y/n returned to her spot on the couch and gave Wanda a hard stare before she opened the first book. She glanced at the clock hanging behind Wanda’s desk and groaned internally. 

‘Just three more hours.’ She thought as she immersed herself in her newest book.

— 

Wanda had obviously decided that once the work day ended, so would y/n’s punishment. As soon as they packed up and left the building, her hand was firmly on the girl’s lower back as they walked to the car. 

Y/n was going to comment on Wanda’s eagerness to touch her, but decided that would be hypocritical seeing as she leaned into the body warmth of the other woman. Even during the quick ride home, Wanda’s hand rested lightly on y/n’s thigh. Instead of getting flustered - a feat that y/n was very proud of - she took the opportunity to play with the long fingers and rings that adorned them. 

Wanda continued to leave small touches on y/n’s body as they made dinner, a brush of hands as she handed her various vegetables to chop, moving her body in one direction with her hands on y/n’s hips when she needed a spoon, and tucking her hair behind an ear as y/n set the timer for the oven. 

Once they sat down to eat, y/n’s nerves started picking up. Wanda was apparently superhuman because she sensed this and laid her fork down, catching y/n’s eyes with her own before asking “What are you nervous about?”

Y/n worried her lower lip with her teeth before sighing and setting her own fork down, looking wistfully at the beef stroganoff on her plate. She knew that Wanda wouldn’t let her eat until they had talked through whatever was on her mind.

“I’ve never… you know, done anything with a girl.” Y/n said, before noticing Wanda opening her mouth to speak. She rushed on, “And I know you said that was okay and I’m not that embarrassed about it but I really don’t have any experience.” 

At Wanda’s nod she nervously continued. “I guess I’m just a little nervous that you’ll think I’m not a good submissive because I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.” Y/n played with the napkin in her lap for a few moments before looking up to find green eyes still on her.

“I’ve worked with plenty of submissives who don’t have experience.” Wanda assured, “But may I ask what about it makes you so nervous?” Wanda had a gentle expression, and y/n searched her face for any signs of disapproval before hesitantly responding. 

“I don’t know how to touch other people in anything but a platonic way, and I’ve never even seen another woman naked in a sexual manner.” Y/n couldn’t stop an embarrassed flush from rising as she finally dropped her eyes to her plate, not wanting to look at Wanda while she spoke.

Wanda drummed her fingers on the table in thought, before leaning forward slightly. “I want to start off by letting you know that if you’re not ready, we don’t have to do anything sexual until you’re completely comfortable.” She raised her hand as y/n opened her mouth to speak. “I do have an idea that might make you more comfortable if you would like to hear it.”

Y/n nodded quickly, and Wanda propped her head up on one hand as she studied the girl in front of her. “How about this, since you’ve never touched another woman in a sexual manner,” She paused as y/n glanced away in embarrassment, waiting until the girl’s eyes were back on her before continuing. “I’ll let you do all the touching, and hopefully you’ll be more comfortable touching another person in a non-platonic way.”

Y/n sat back slightly in her seat as she thought about it. It sounded like a really good plan actually. She was still nervous about it, but found that the nerves were giving away to excitement. 

“I would feel comfortable doing that, and I already trust you so it’s not going to be uncomfortable for me.” Y/n finally spoke, and Wanda smiled softly at her before picking her fork back up.

“Just let me know when you’re ready darling, and don’t feel rushed.” Wanda resumed eating as y/n built the courage to say one final thing.

“I want to do it tonight.”

Wanda looked up in surprise to find a sincere expression on y/n’s face. She set her fork down once again as she responded with a quirk of her eyebrow, “I thought I just said not to feel rushed.”

Y/n squared her shoulders. “I don’t feel rushed at all, I actually feel a lot better about the whole thing now that we’ve talked about it. Plus, you promised me a reward.” Y/n raised her eyebrows as Wanda tilted her head slightly. “This is me cashing in on my reward.” 

Wanda let out a small huff of air as she hid a smile behind her glass of water. She studied y/n’s face for a few moments before responding with a simple “Okay.” and returning to her food. 

Y/n blinked.

‘That was easy.’

—

Y/n could barely remember why she had been nervous. In hindsight, she had just been psyching herself out, sex was a lot less scary when it was happening with someone you trusted and with someone really hot. Like Wanda. Wanda was super hot. Y/n genuinely couldn’t think of anyone who was as attractive as Wanda. 

‘Ok now you’re just embarrassing yourself, get a grip.’

Instead, all she felt was excitement as Wanda took her hand and led her upstairs. She hadn’t been in this part of the house, but it had a home office and Wanda’s bedroom. Wait, Wanda’s bedroom. 

‘You’re not a middle school boy, get it together.’

Y/n had calmed her racing heartbeat slightly as Wanda shut the door behind them. It was a nice bedroom, very modern looking with a big window that looked over the city. She let her gaze roam around the room before Wanda’s hands were gently pushing her toward the bed in the center.

Y/n sat down on the edge of the bed, hands running over the soft black sheets as Wanda moved to stand a few feet in front of her. 

“So you’ve never seen a woman fully naked?” Wanda asked, her hand slowly moving to the first button on her shirt. Y/n just shook her head, all nerves had fled the moment that Wanda undid the collar button. Now all she felt was excitement, and the urge to touch the woman in front of her. 

“Can I do that for you?” 

Wanda’s hand paused, dropping from her shirt as she walked up to y/n with a smirk. She gently nudged the girl’s legs open and stood in between them. Her hands hung loosely at her sides as she nodded. 

Y/n’s eyes lit up, and a smile made its way onto her face as she dropped her gaze to Wanda’s shirt. She reached her hands up towards the second button, before pausing at glancing back up at Wanda. 

“Where can I touch you?”

Wanda made a low humming sound, her eyes darkening further as she looked at y/n.

“You have my permission to touch anywhere you’d like, but my underwear and what lies beneath them are off limits for now.”

Y/n nodded her understanding - miraculously not blushing at the word ‘underwear’ - before finally deciding to place her hands on Wanda’s shoulders. Wanda’s shirt felt like it was made of silk, and y/n absentmindedly wondered if her skin would feel softer as her hands ran over the woman’s collarbones. She dragged one hand down to the second button and undid it, greedily taking in the sight as more skin was exposed to her. 

With a quick glance upward as Wanda took a slightly faster breath, y/n noticed the woman watching her intently. She blushed at the rapt attention, but quickly returned her gaze to the next button. Her hands stopped trembling once she reached the final button, and as soon as she undid it, she let her hands linger around Wanda’s waist as she took in the sight. 

The sight of so much skin was giving y/n a headrush, so she took her time as her gaze dragged from the column of Wanda’s throat to her slightly protruding collarbones, down to the simple black bra that y/n couldn’t wait to take off. Looking down further, her lips parted slightly at the sight of abs. Wanda had abs, and y/n let out a soft sigh at the sight.

‘She just keeps getting more attractive. It’s unfair.’ 

Eager to see more, y/n pushed the shirt off of Wanda’s shoulders. She barely heard the soft thump of fabric hitting the floor as her hands lightly skimmed the surface of Wanda’s stomach. As her hands danced along the woman’s waist, y/n recalled her earlier thoughts and smirked to herself. Wanda’s skin was definitely softer than the expensive shirt was. 

Y/n’s hands stopped right over Wanda’s ribs, her thumbs barely brushing the fabric of her bra as she looked back up at Wanda’s face. She noticed that the woman’s pupils had gotten bigger and there was barely any green left in Wanda’s eyes. 

“May I?”

Wanda’s breathing hitched, just slightly. But y/n felt it underneath her hands and she smiled slightly. 

“You may.” Wanda’s voice was low, and had a slight rasp to it that had goosebumps erupting all over y/n’s body. She watched the woman’s lips slightly part as she ran her thumbs over the underside of her breasts. 

Taking that as a sign, y/n grew bolder. She increased the pressure of her hands as she ran them over the material, feeling the redheads nipples harden underneath. She cupped Wanda’s breasts fully and ran her thumbs over the nubs she felt underneath the fabric of the bra. Y/n glanced up to see Wanda’s eyes were still on her but slightly hooded as her mouth parted further. 

Reaching around to her back, y/n undid the clasp of Wanda’s bra before sliding it down her arms and dropping it to the floor. She drank in the sight of Wanda’s breasts, running her hands softly over them. All hesitance was gone from her touch as she took one nipple between her fingers and rolled it. Wanda let out a low noise from the back of her throat, which spurred y/n on.

After thoroughly exploring Wanda’s breasts with nimble fingers and pulling a few more low noises from her, y/n yearned for more. She dragged her fingers down Wanda’s stomach, feeling the muscles twitch underneath the pads of her fingertips and reached the fabric of her pants. 

After glancing back up to Wanda’s face to check for any signs of hesitance, y/n slowly undid the belt clasp, and slid it out from her belt loops. Letting it drop to the floor, she felt her own breathing become heavier as she undid the button of Wanda’s pants and slowly dragged the zipper down. 

Hooking her thumbs around the top of surprisingly smooth material, y/n dragged the material down and took in the sight of Wanda’s bare legs. She ran her hands over strong thighs as Wanda kicked the pants off from where they had pooled at her feet, being careful to not touch near the woman’s matching black panties. As she explored, y/n noticed that the skin on the inside of Wanda’s thighs was even softer than the rest of her body. She also noticed that Wanda’s breathing was getting heavier. 

Y/n fully removed her hands from Wanda’s body, setting them in her lap as she gazed up into dark eyes. 

“I’m done touching now. I’m a lot more comfortable than I was before.” Y/n said, watching Wanda raise one eyebrow. 

“You’re done are you?” Y/n nodded before leaning closer. 

“I’d rather you touch me now.” Wanda’s eyes darkened even further than before as she tilted her head slightly. 

“Are you sure?”

Y/n nodded, a little too fast as Wanda smiled slightly and finally reached a hand up to wrap around the back of y/n’s neck. Her other hand reached down and pulled y/n’s hands back around her waist.

“Don’t stop touching me, I was having fun.” Wanda murmured, feeling the grip around her waist tighten before leaning down and capturing y/n’s lips with her own. As she deepened the kiss, Wanda reached down towards the bottom of y/n’s tshirt and slightly pulled the material upwards. 

“Clothes on or off darling? She asked, her lips moving against y/n’s. The shorter girl struggled to find the words but eventually managed a weak ‘yes’ before pulling Wanda closer, her eyes lidded and resting on red lips. 

Wanda pulled away slightly, tilting y/n’s head until she was looking up at her. “How much of you can I touch?” She asked as y/n’s chest heaved. The girl paused for a second, blinking as she processed the question. 

“As much as you want, just please keep your hands on me.” Y/n whispered, not caring if she sounded desperate. She really wanted Wanda to keep touching her and kissing her, but knew that the woman wanted boundaries to be created before continuing. 

“I mean it, you can touch me anywhere. I’m comfortable and I really want you to.” Y/n sounded a bit breathless as she spoke, but her eyes lit up as Wanda nodded and kissed her once more.

Wanda pulled her shirt off, smiling at the amount of skin she could now see. She leaned in and whispered with her lips brushing y/n’s. “Let me know if you want me to stop, and I will.” 

Y/n let out an impatient ‘mhmm’ before surging forwards and kissing Wanda again. She felt half drunk on the feeling of Wanda’s lips against her own, and let out a relieved sigh as the woman undid the clasp of her pants and pulled them off. 

Wanda’s hands wandered from the top of y/n’s thighs up to her chest before sitting down and pulling the shorter girl on top of her. Y/n gasped into the kiss at the new position change, and tried not to roll her hips against Wanda. All of her attention was focused on kissing the redhead, and she mildly thought that she could do this for hours as her bra was unclasped and dropped on the floor. 

“Does this count as anywhere?” Wanda asked, breaking the kiss as her fingers played with the top of the waistband of y/n’s underwear. The girl pulled back, her pupils blown and lips swollen, slightly panting. She let out a breathless moan as one of Wanda’s fingers dipped below her waistband and caressed the skin there. 

“Yes, that counts. Just keep doing that.” When Wanda didn’t move her fingers down further, y/n leaned forwards so her lips were touching the woman’s ear. She tucked a strand of hair behind Wanda’s ear as she whispered. 

“Please”

That was all it took for Wanda to begin moving again, and y/n let her head drop to rest on the other woman’s forehead as Wanda’s fingers finally touched where she needed them the most. She let out soft whimpers as nimble fingers began circling her clit, her hips thrusting on Wanda’s lap as she searched for more friction. 

Wanda released her hold on the back of y/n’s neck and watched as her breaths became more uneven. She kept her eyes locked with y/n’s as her fingers made contact with the girl’s clit, y/n’s mouth falling open and letting out a low drawn out moan.

Wanda smirked as she felt a warm wetness on her fingers, and reached her other hand to y/n’s jaw, thumb brushing her bottom lip. 

“Let’s keep that mouth busy.” Wanda’s voice was barely a whisper, and y/n’s eyes widened slightly before she took the hint and wrapped her lips around Wanda’s thumb. As a reward, Wanda kept a thumb on y/n’s clit as she slowly entered her with two fingers, letting out a low moan at the feel of the shorter girl clenching around her. 

Y/n’s hands gripped Wanda’s shoulders tightly as the redhead slowly thrust into her. She watched eyes just barely tinged with green as they wandered over her form. Y/n was close to an orgasm, and Wanda knew it too. Her grip on y/n’s jaw tightened fractionally as the woman instructed firmly, “Ask for permission.”

The thumb in y/n’s mouth fell out as she leaned forwards, the new angle making Wanda’s fingers hit deeper inside of her. She turned her head towards the side of Wanda’s head, burying her face in the curtain of red hair as the woman started to kiss her neck. 

Wanda was relentless, each thrust of her fingers bringing y/n closer to her inevitable orgasm. Her thumb was pressed firmly against the girl’s clit as she drew tight circles. Y/n was moaning into her ear, and Wanda could feel her lips against her ear.

“Please, let me come” Y/n let out a whimper as Wanda’s fingers started to move faster. Wanda reached up to capture one of y/n’s nipples between her fingers and twisted before replying in a disappointed tone. “You’ll have to do better than that.”

Y/n could barely think at this point, but she managed to get her mouth to form a few sentences. “Please let me come, I wanna be your good girl so badly. Let me prove it to you. Just let me come please.”

Wanda let out a hum of approval, her fingers moving faster than before. She drew the hand that was playing with y/n’s nipple up to grip the back of her neck as she felt the girl’s orgasm approach. 

Turning her head slightly towards y/n’s, who had buried her head in Wanda’s neck, she felt the girl tense up around her fingers. 

“You have my permission”

As soon as she heard those words, y/n’s orgasm finally crashed over her. She was left shaking from the aftershocks and Wanda’s fingers slowed, prolonging the pleasure. When y/n finally removed her face from the crook of Wanda’s neck, she captured red lips with her own. She attempted to convey how thankful she was into the kiss, and she felt Wanda smiling. 

Wanda pulled y/n’s head away by the back of her neck, grip still firm. “I’m going to pull out now.” Y/n nodded, her brain suddenly feeling fuzzy. She let out a soft whimper as Wanda slowly drew her fingers out and immediately missed the feeling of Wanda inside her. 

As soon as she noticed y/n’s eyes starting to close, Wanda maneuvered their bodies so that the shorter girl was lying on the bed. She brushed some of the hair out of y/n’s eyes as she cupped her cheek.

“I’m going to start the shower, I’ll come get you when the water is warm.” Wanda whispered, waiting until y/n had let out a small ‘okay’ before grabbing the blanket from the end of the bed and wrapping the girl in it. She pecked y/n softly on the lips before making her way to the bathroom. 

Y/n vaguely heard the water turn on, but her ears were ringing and every muscle in her body was relaxed. So, she did the logical thing. She cuddled with the blanket Wanda had wrapped around her and promptly fell asleep with the phantom feel of soft skin beneath her fingertips and Wanda’s voice ringing like an echo in her ears.

Next Chapter

[robyn-runestone]

I came across the ‘Get to know my Tav’ trend, and I thought it was the perfect opportunity to flesh out Carlyle a little more.

Carlyle | Seldarine Drow | Bard | He/Him

favorite weapon: Rapier

style of combat: He prefers toying with his opponent by darting in and out and making quick strikes

most prized possession: His violin. He cares for that thing like it’s his own child.

deepest desire: He just wants to feel like he belongs with something or someone, though he’d rather die than let anyone know that.

guilty pleasure: Crappy mystery novels. He eats that stuff up.

best-kept secret: The reason why he acts like such a jerk to everyone he meets is because he hopes it’d stop them from getting attached to him. After failing to prevent his apprentice from being killed, he decided that he was unworthy of people’s kindness, and even less deserving of their grief. He decided that if everyone hates him, then it would be easier for them to move on when he dies. This backfired when his party noticed how kind he is to children, and soon they began to see even more evidence of the soft heart under his prickly exterior.

greatest strength: He’s really good at grabbing people’s attention. He’s always the one who acts as a distraction when needed.

fatal flaw: Because of the shame that came from his apprentice’s death, he always snaps at/makes fun of people in hopes that they would give up on him.

favorite smell: This one specific perfume he got at a market that smells woodsy and a tad floral. He never uses it because he doesn’t want the smell to run out.

favorite spell or cantrip: Cloud of daggers. He likes using it to trap his opponents in enclosed spaces.

pet peeve: People who don’t care for their weapons properly. 

bad habit: Even after deciding to stop being a jerk, his first instinct when interacting with people is to act snappy with them. It’s hard for him to grow out of the habit, but he is trying.

hidden talent: Because he lived alone for so long, he had to learn how to cook for himself, and became really good at it. He once made a kick-ass beef stroganoff, and Karlach and Wyll often beg him to make it again.

leisure activity: Curling up in a little hidden nook to write songs or read.

favorite drink: Chamomile tea, but like the really fancy ones with the spices and berries and stuff.

comfort food: Literally any kind of soup, especially if he has some bread to go with it.

favorite person: 20 years before the game, he had an apprentice named Yarrow. They were really close, and he almost saw her as a daughter. Every year after her death, he would play the first song he ever taught her in remembrance of the girl.

Later, he fell in love with Astarion. After knowing how it feels to be loved back after being deprived of it for so long, he decided he couldn’t go back to pushing people away again.

favored display of affection (platonic and/or romantic): Carlyle is a huge fan of physical touch, though he has a hard time asking for it. Him and Astarion sometimes read together so that they could have an excuse to cuddle.

After Karlach had her engine modified to allow her to touch others, they both got a lot of hugs from each other too.

fondest childhood memory: His mother and father singing to him at bedtime, and him trying to drowsily sing along before sleep overtook him.

[xxcatzladyxx]

Demon Slayer Advent Calendar | Day Seven | Tengen x Reader | Under the mistletoe

Written by Lupina36!

~~~

"Do you think we have everything together now?" you asked with a skeptical look at the countless bags dangling from the arms of your husband, to whom your question was addressed. Tengen thought for a moment. "I think so. The stores behind us are completely empty. If anything else is missing, we'll have to go somewhere else."

You giggled at his joke as you walked along the busy shopping street with the sound pillar.

You had planned to go shopping for Christmas presents today. Although it was still a little over three weeks away, you thought it was the perfect day. Although it had been snowing continuously for the last few days and the entire landscape was now covered in a white blanket of snow, it was quite warm today as the sun was shining again for the first time. It was also necessary to go shopping for Christmas presents so early, as you not only had to get some for your husband and your three co-wives Hinatsuru, Suma and Makio, but also for your family and friends. Kyojuro, Mitsuri, Sanemi.... They would all be delighted to receive a present from you for Christmas.

Your list of gift recipients was correspondingly long.

You were very grateful that Tengen had agreed to accompany you on your little shopping trip.

You would never have been able to carry all those bags on your own. How lucky you were to have a man as big and strong as Tengen to accompany you.

You spent the whole day out and about together, strolling through all kinds of stores and markets.

For Hinatsuru, you managed to get hold of a beautiful red silk kimono with gold embroidery. You would treat Makio to a brand new set of throwing stars and for Suma you had found what you were looking for in a small bookshop. What hardly anyone but you and Tengen's other women knew was that she had a great weakness for romance novels. You didn't miss the opportunity to buy her the whole series of novels about a rich girl who, through unfortunate circumstances, ends up on the prostitution circuit and finds the love of her life there.

You had little love for such trashy novels, but you were happy to see the sparkle in Suma's eyes every time you presented her with one.

Even now, a gentle smile stole across your face as you thought about how Suma would react to your gift. You probably wouldn't see her again for some time.

"You look pretty happy. Then the trip was really worth it," Tengen remarked, who had obviously been watching you.

Even if some people didn't understand it, especially your dear family, you were happy to have married Tengen.

He was a good husband who cared about his wives. For example, he never made important decisions without talking to his wives first and he was always happy to do them a favor. For example, going shopping with you, even if that meant he had to carry all the bags. But he didn't seem to mind.

Because when you offered to take a few of them off his hands, he declined and assured you that it would be good training for him.

You gave him a skeptical look, but didn't insist any further.

"I was just thinking about the look on Suma's face when I give her the novels. She's wanted this series for a long time," you laughed.

"I can't believe there was such a crowd even in the bookshop," you added, casting a quick glance over your shoulder. Although it was still a while until Christmas, many people seemed to have had the same idea as you. Taking advantage of the nice weather to buy presents for their loved ones, which meant that every store you were in with Tengen was hopelessly overcrowded. Once again, Tengen's tall and muscular appearance proved to be an advantage.

You wouldn't have made as much progress on your own and would probably still be fighting your way through the crowds in one of the stores.

The sun was gradually sinking behind the horizon as you and Tengen slowly made your way home when something suddenly caught your eye.

You stopped abruptly and looked at a house entrance opposite you. Tengen also stopped and looked at you questioningly. "What's wrong?" he asked, sounding slightly worried. He obviously thought you had seen something to worry about, because the sun was slowly setting and you two were mostly alone in the area. The shopping street was long behind you. You suspected that he was thinking of a demon, so you smiled reassuringly at him while pointing at the entrance to the house. "Mistletoe!"

Tengen followed your gaze and the tension immediately drained out of him like hot air. The next moment he grinned. "Shall we?" he asked and you didn't have to think long about what he meant.

With slightly flushed cheeks, you nodded and he approached you.

You had told him about this tradition at some point, but there had never been a suitable opportunity to do so. That was different now and you couldn't stop your heart from beating faster with excitement. He was now so close to you that you could already feel his warm breath on your cold skin.

Although you two had kissed many times before, this felt different somehow. Maybe it was because you were out in the open this time. For a brief moment, you wondered if this was really such a good idea, but as soon as Tengen's soft lips touched yours, you forgot all about it. It was as if someone had simply switched off your brain. At that moment, there was only you and Tengen, standing there in the snow together and kissing. Everything else was just a background noise. The cold, the slowly creeping darkness or the possibility that someone might be watching you who was not entirely well-disposed towards you. None of that mattered. There was only you.

After a while, Tengen detached himself from you again and smiled warmly at you.

"Come on, let's go now. The others will be worried if we get home so late," Tengen said. You could only nod and so you continued on your way. You already knew that this was one of those days that you would remember for a long time to come.

[simmetrycal]

ash’s family dynamic ༊*·˚

i think about ash’s blood related family often, so here’s a look at that:

˚ · .

ash’s father, wayne, is a good dad. good enough.

he didn’t spend a whole lot of time with young ash though, always at the office or on the phone.

“alright pass it to me champ!” he’d yell with a smile on his sharp face. ash, chubby, small, and scruffy-haired would throw a football as hard as he could. it hit the ground a few feet in front of him, and he when looked up, he saw his dad apologetically looking at him as he takes a phone call from the company.

it was always about the company.

dad can’t make it to dinner because something happened at the company.

dad can’t make it to your 8th grade ceremony because the company needs him.

dad didn’t have time to buy you a birthday present because he was working, here’s the envelope of five hundred dollars he left you this morning.

once wayne and ash’s mother grace divorced, ash spent equal time with both of them.

although, as time went on and ash grew, his dad took him under his wing.

perhaps it was grace holding him back, even though it was always said to be the company.

still, the company is all they ever talk about. wayne taught ash everything he knows, and pushed him to go to school for business.

ash’s time at university taught him a lot. he knows his father would be proud of him for following in his footsteps so that’s what he chose to do.

plus, it makes good money.

once ash got his degree wayne hired him as an intern at the company. they spent time together— more than they ever had before.

they finally had something in common, finally something they could bond over.

although, it was really the only thing they ever talked about.

“did you get the marketing team a pseudo-manager?” wayne asks from behind a newspaper at his desk. ash sat in front of him, chewing gum and scrolling on his phone. their relationship was like that. casual in a professional setting.

“yeah, i’m working on it,” he replies.

“you’re working on it?” wayne closes his newspaper and takes off his reading glasses. “so are you done or not?”

“almost.” ash looks up, shrugging.

“hmm,” wayne says with an eyebrow, popping open a cork from a bottle of bourbon.

he pours it into two crystal glasses but ash never drinks his.

“are you coming to kylie and parker’s dinner party tonight?” wayne asks. kylie and parker are his 16 and 15 year old daughters, ash’s half-sisters.

“what for?”

“you’re their brother. be there to celebrate and congratulate.”

“what are we celebrating?” ash asks, standing up so he can head out.

“uhm..” wayne furrows his brows, unsure of it himself. he opens his calendar on his computer. “their volleyball team’s success in making it to the finals.”

ash internally sighs. he loves his sisters but they’re quick to use their fathers money to have fancy dinner parties for any opportunity. a volleyball tournament is hardly a celebratory event when you haven’t won yet.

though they probably will, ash goes to most of their games and their high school is quite reputable.

parker is admittedly better than kylie, but both are on varsity.

when ash arrives he chuckles at how empty the restaurant is.

apparently parker was supposed to send out the invites but they thought kylie was doing that. so nobody showed up.

“i at least wanted ben to come,” kylie pounts in her seat. a lock of her sandy colored hair falls in front of her bright eyes, to which she blows it away.

ben is kylie’s pathetic excuse for a boyfriend.

“okay, well boys sucks,” ash says next to her, folding up the sleeves of his pressed white button up.

“don’t you like boys?”

parker snorts with laughter across the table from the two, accidently spitting up some of their shirley temple.

they look like a shirley temple— with their dyed dark red hair and dramatic eyeliner.

“ugh! shut up,” kylie pouts again, kicking them from under the table.

“i didn’t even say anything!” they wave their arms around and laugh-scoff.

“enough, girls.” wayne says as he sits downs with ash’s stepmom cora. kylie and parker’s mom.

parker twitches their eye when wayne says “girls”. parker doesn’t identify themself as a girl and wayne knows that, but has a hard time getting used to it. he still always tries to be supportive though.

“where’s the team?” wayne says, confused and picking up a menu.

“parker didn’t invite anyone because they thought i was going to do it.” kylie says with sass.

she’s always sassy but she means well. she’s just a blonde girl in high school, what can you do about it

parker retorts, explaining their mistake.

“well, at least we won’t have tens of people to pay for,” cora smiled.

ash fights back an eye roll.. he doesn’t exactly love his step mom, he thinks she’s slightly annoying.

he does love his real mom very much though.

grace and ash’s stepdad owen are a blast, always inviting ash to come play pickleball with them.

they have a daughter as well, eva. she goes to school with ash’s other sisters and they’re all friends. in fact, she’s in some of the same classes as kylie.

it may seem odd to people who don’t know their family, but ash really wouldn’t have it any other way.

“as i was saying ky,” ash continues. “boys are gross! and ben is gross! and none of you should ever date.”

“i second that,” wayne says, holding his glass up to cheer.

kylie and parker slump in their seats but come right up when the waiter comes by, fixing their posture and attitudes.

ash ends up paying for his own meal as well as his sisters’. wayne thinks this is very kind and he gives him a pat on the back for it.

“oh one last thing, i have gifts for you both. and for eva, give it to her at school on monday,” ash tells them as they walk out of the restaurant to the parking lot.

“ooh what did you get me?” kylie chases him, putting her hands on his shoulders and jumping up and down.

she receives an elbow from her sibling, “be grateful!” parker urges.

always the respectful one of the two despite being a sophomore.

ash climbs into his backseat to grab three pink bags.

he hands it over to them and kylie rips through the tissue paper.

“oh my gosh!!” she squeals, doing a little spin making her sundress twirl around before hugging him. “i love you ash!! you’re the best!”

in the bags are little vivienne westwood pieces of jewelry. kylie received a necklace, parker got a bracelet, and for eva it’s earrings.

“dude are you kidding? this is way cool!” parker eyes the charm-like pearl bracelet.

without fail, ash always meets them with gifts. no matter how small (one time he resorted to bath and body works hand sanitizers because he was short on time)

“chantelle picked them out”

“ugh, i love her!”

“and i love you guys,” ash says, booping them on the noses before getting in his audi and taking off.

wayne and cora don’t want to spoil them but ash doesn’t give a shit. if he has the means, he’ll give them the whole world.

bonus: him playing pickleball with eva because i only wrote about kylie and parker and she needs recognition as well

˚ · .

“aw cmon bruh you can swing harder than that!” ash yells from across the court at eva, who swung the pickleball paddle with embarrassment.

she thinks pickleball is a stupid sport but her little family knows how to have fun regardless.

their neighbors have this tournament thingy every so often and ash thoroughly enjoys it

he even has a “pickleball outfit”. it’s just pleated white shorts and a white polo with a blue sweatband and wristbands

in fact, everyone on their team is wearing blue sweatbands, and the neighbors across the net are wearing red.

it’s a warm sunny evening and the two are practicing back and forth before the match begins.

“ash!” eva yells at him when he smacks the ball way over her head of dark curly hair.

she looks way more like ash than his other half sisters, they both take after their mom in a lot of ways it seems.

ash chuckles and apologizes, fetching them a new ball.

“okay this one’s for all the marbles! you have to get it!” he serves it and eva paddles it back perfectly, surprising the both of them.

[bonesandthebees]

Okay, things I lose my mind about in glass 26.

1. Niki! She’s doing the tattoo! She’s putting up with Tommy even though she hates his guts just because Wilbur wants him there! She barely acknowledges his presence. She’s constantly annoyed but keeping it in. Also great job on showing Niki’s annoyance when Tommy bumps into the tray. And I think she was also slightly annoyed that she’s have to make the design smaller to put it on Wilbur’s wrist (which Tommy suggested) but that makes Wilbur happy, so it’s fine.

I’d have to go back and check, but I think she literally only directly talks to Tommy in the last segment and she only looks at him once. Which, fantastic job with that, because even when trying to calm Wilbur down, both of them are just talking to him, they don’t really communicate with each other (unless I missed something or Wilbur doesn’t notice) they just take turns talking to him based on what they know about him.

Also, Tommy kinda ‘forgets’ Niki is there when he mentions some things like the night market which she did not know about and will have questions about. Also, bringing up Jack was a bad move especially since he still hasn’t properly apologised. There’s also the whole. Niki knows Wilbur’s name debacle vs. The very awkward silence after “I’m sure he told you first”. I hope the realisation that Niki was the first person Wilbur willingly told his name to stings. I hope it stings because he took that opportunity away from himself and he never even got the privilege of being told he’s allowed to use it. Like we can argue about how necessary it. Was or not but the point is that Tommy so sort of finally getting to the consequences of that decision (the more negative side that is).

Not to mention how the awkward silence confirms to Niki that Tommy wasn’t told, but he still knows. (I’m not sure how much she knew about that, but she has opinions about Tommy, his pushiness and disrespect for other peoples boundaries. Those opinions did not improve with this conversation. Which we see in the last segment.

You always manage to make me feel bad for Tommy in these kind of situations even though I know he deserves it. Like he’s trying to extend the olive branch not realising he’s burned that bridge down complete and waited long enough to let the rubble crash into the ravine below. There’s nothing left to repair. Niki hates his guts. None of this was about him, it’s purely for Wilbur’s sake. And the thing that sets her of and makes her throw Tommy out is the fact that 1. He sticks around after the very clear dismissal to try again and 2. [“I figured. Just- like, I know shit’s not great with us right now because of… yeah, but-”] he doesn’t even have the guts to say he tried to kill her best friend. He’s constantly dancing around it. And 3. He’s still not apologising!

-🌲

YEAHHH I knew I wanted to show the tattooing scene, and then I also knew that tommy had to be there to support wilbur through it, which then led me to the interesting realization that tommy and niki were going to be forced to be in the same room. and of course that creates this very poignant tension that runs under the entire tattoo session that wilbur only partially acknowledges because he's more focused on, y'know, having an emotional breakdown over getting a tattoo and severing himself from the pythian tenets. so I wanted to show niki's annoyance in subtle ways, including tommy bumping into the tray and niki doing her damnedest not to snap at him

she does actually look at him at one other point during the session. it's when wilbur is having his freak out over his body not being his niki and tommy share a look before they both move to comfort him in their own ways (which wilbur also notices but it's a very quick 'blink and you'll miss it' sentence) that is the only other time she looks at him before they're leaving. it's only for wilbur's sake.

tommy didn't necessarily forget that niki was there, it was just that his worry for wilbur overrode any potential fallout he could have with niki finding out about the night market. he was focused first and foremost on grounding wilbur and calming him down.

the name moment was so small but so important. tommy finds out that wilbur has willingly told other people his name since tommy found it out, and realizes that if he had just been patient, he could've been the first to be actually told. but he didn't. now technically speaking, if tommy hadn't brute-forced his way into finding out wilbur's name and using it, it could've taken 6+ months just for wilbur to tell him in the first place. like, it would've taken so much longer to get to the point he's at now, if he'd ever even get there at all. so it was kind of a necessary evil, but it still had consequences.

obviously niki doesn't know exactly what happened with the name thing between wilbur and tommy, but that awkward silence let her know that it's not as simple as wilbur telling him. and yeah like you said since she already knows tommy is pushy about stuff like that, she has a vague idea that he might've either forced wilbur to tell him or found it out on his own somehow. that definitely didn't help her opinion of him in the slightest.

(story game voice: niki will remember that)

yuppp tommy's own immaturity makes it so he doesn't even fully realize that it's too late to try and extend this olive branch. far too late. niki hates him for the thing he did that he can't even say out loud. it's meant to make you feel bad for tommy because again, his own childishness gets in the way of him realizing just how badly he's fucked up. but also that's entirely his own fault. he's 18 and needs to understand the gravity of his actions.

[simpingwriter]

Cal Kestis x Kyra Yarmot

'In the Name of Love' Pt.1

Word Count: approx. 2,902 (I can't copy it back over from Tumblr to count the words after last edit :/ so this is always the raw word count from pre-editing)

___________________

How did you get pulled into this?

You have been able to leave the past behind you for years now.

Now, because you slipped up, you're once more on the run.

Because you saw him. About to get slaughtered by some lucky Stormtroopers, all because he saw…no…felt, you first while you trained, tried to run after you and drew attention to you two more than your small spike of accidental force Energy already did.

That day you almost lost control again, the first time in a year.

It rippled through your body. No. No ripples. Waves, just like you remembered it.

The Force.

Dealing with the group of Troopers was child's play in that state of yours, a simple flick of your wrist blew them off their feet as you ran to the ginger to shield him as he slowly regained his senses.

On that day, you had no Lightsaber on you anymore, as it was taken from you a while ago by a Bounty Hunter after they unfairly took you down.

A trophy to prove they "won" against you, all because trying to capture all of you was most definitely suicidal.

You weren't famous among the Jedi before the purge, still a mere child and Padawan when it went down. And you had become more grateful for that fact by the year, as the Empire wasn't out for blood at your name. You had been a mythos.

So when that Bounty Hunter found you in your little cave, he was shocked but took the opportunity, ambushing you in your sleep as you apparently forgot to take care of your traces at the nearby market as you went out for a supply run before leaving the planet via hitchhiking with some dubious drunk.

Without your weapon, you had to use your more uncivilized ways.

Claws and teeth, razor sharp when taken care of. And even more with the Force being fed into them.

The Jedi behind you hadn't been able to bring that subject up until he brought you away from the massacre you caused and into whatever reason he had been here. Apparently a gone rogue informant of the rebellion. God, these people…they never really sat right with you. Nobody in the Galaxy really did anymore.

The first encounter you and Cal had, you became drenched in enemy blood to defend him, still a stranger. For whatever reason your body moved to protect him, a stranger. And that made yourself even more of a target than after that ambush that cost you your trusty Lightsaber and them selling your information and current possible whereabouts to the Empire.

He wasn't easy to shake off after that.

It was impossible, actually, since now you're clearly crouched next to him, watching the busy market from a distance.

You tried running off after you made sure he wasn't hurt, you're not fond of staying in the same place for too long anymore. It simply wasn't safe, not that you're scared of an attack…but the more you fought back, the more they would send. And then you could eventually get overwhelmed – though you doubt that.

Losing him was impossible because he was quick as well, surprisingly nimble but he did have longer legs, taller than you in general, so he caught up to you before you had been able to fly off.

He tackled you that day, rolling down a grassy hill until you two ended at the foot of it, a tangled mess wrestling for the top of the pile to either pin the other down or to flee.

You won easily, The Force still rampaging through you like a storm. Also a reason why you took off, you didn't want to accidentally hurt someone innocent because you forgot how to control yourself.

You won but he didn't give up. He seemed awfully ecstatic with finding you. Not even the visible danger of your energy deterred the boy, blue and red sparks of your body basically short-circuiting under the force ‐ Ha. Ha. - and pressure of The Force as you pinned his arms next to his head, snarling at him to scare him off, all your fangs and canines on display.

"Leave me alone… or I might hurt you."

"Fine with me, just hear me out…please."

You did hear him out.

And you two weren't the last Jedi in the System.

There were more left than you thought.

Whether that was good or not…you're not alone.

Now you got dragged into his own Mission, eyeing the crowd with confusion. Not just because of the mission, but because of everything that just happened. One moment you were a fugitive on the run, living in caves and trees like…like the animal you technically are. The next, you're being told that there were Force Sensitive Children left and that some Stranger, also a Jedi of fucking course, wanted you to help them.

He wasn't alone.

This was the first time in years that you would have long time company and a team.

That spark or joy, part of the sparks that they missed to put out in your body, caused you to agree almost too eagerly. You were sick of your current life.

"What does that informant even look like?" You ask Cal, as he introduced himself, looking at the ginger, who quickly looked away again. Was he staring at you?

"Were y-" "I'm sorry…I just, I never met someone looking like you." "Are you aware of the creatures running around on that market? I look normal against some of them-"

He quickly shook his head, green eyes wide, "Wait no! You misunderstood me, really!" "Did I now?"

He scratches the back of his neck, stuttering as he wasn't sure how to say it without maybe saying the next wrong thing. The sun of the planet was starting to set, cooling the ground and you felt yourself dreading to start shivering.

"What I meant…I never met your…species?" To be perfectly honest, there was no better word to be neutral about it, race wouldn't have fit…since that is the subcategory of a species.

Your species had different races.

"You couldn't have really…" you mutter, keeping an eye out for the potentially suspicious behavior he told you to look for, trying to keep yourself busy from thinking back to the news your Master once told you, long before the Purge too.

"Why? Wait…is, was your species made like the Clones back then?" Wrong direction but he couldn't have known…well maybe he could've?

"My species is part of the extinction list, Cal. I might just be the last of my kind...or at least the last free one."

He freezes on his kneeling spot, not even continuing his uncomfortable shuffling from moments ago, if his eyes were wide before, they were saucers now, staring at you like you just got stabbed through the chest. "A-are you serious?!" "I might have a bit of a fucked up humor for a Jedi…but I don't joke about that." You return bitterly, one hand reaching for the small water flask at your hip belt, feeling his eyes on your long reptilian tail swishing back and forth behind you as you uncapped it with your teeth, the cap clanking against the cool metal.

It wasn't the most obvious part of you that screamed I'm not human but it sure seemed to keep his attention often. Just like your twin horns.

"Is it a like or dislike kinda thing?" The question was meant as serious as the topic he just accidentally cut into and he felt caught as he looked back at you, a tint to his face. "I-i…I'm sorry. They, you…well…it's fascinating."

If he thought you were fascinating, he probably has lived under a rock before.

He wasn't able to hide the fact that his eyes drew back behind you the moment he thought he wasn't watched, a smirk growing ever so slightly for you. "Just…just touch it, if that makes you stare at it less. Or take a picture, I guess…"

Cal froze again, something you could start counting on how often you had that effect on him as he slowly nodded, "I kinda want to…are your scales sharp?" Well, he will have to find that out on his own.

Spoiler: Not always.

Taking your binoculars back into your clawed hands, you laugh lightly as you move the appendage closer to him so he doesn't have to make it too obvious.

As you watch more extremely boring market visitors come and go, some weirder looking than the next, you hear a surprised gasp from the boy next to you. You had boldly planted your tail on his lap, his hands instinctively holding onto it to keep it from slipping off the slanted surface. "Uff, it's pretty heavy!" "Isn't it?" You ask unconcerned, having had to drag it behind you your whole life. You got used to the weight naturally, just like everyone gets used to the weight of their head.

It's nothing you really notice anymore.

"Can I touch…those too?"

Wha-

Before he could actually put a finger on them, you scoot away a bit, both hands plus binoculars shielding your horns protectively. "N-no." You stutter, uncharacteristic to your bold self, now it was you who began blushing.

"Th-they are sensitive to touch…"

He didn't not need to know the whole thing behind the horns of Dragon-People.

But luckily, he dropped the subject as he saw something from the corner of his eyes, turning around back to the edge you have been looking over for almost an hour now.

"There! That's him!" He subtly points towards a seriously plain looking man, brunette, pale skin, average height and apparently average weight. Even the clothes looked unassuming.

But you had your fair share of encounters in these years to safely say that that didn't mean shit in the Galaxy.

Even the most boring man or woman could be an excellent Assassin or Bounty Hunter underneath everything ordinary.

"Fine, then let's tail him to a more secluded area, then you can contact the people you talked about." You simply tell him, standing up from the ground, knees complaining about the sudden change of position. "Can't believe I have to say this at 18 years, but I'm getting too old for this…"

Or maybe you're on the run already for too long.

You slid down the nearby hangover, noticing the wear on your boots just a bit too much right now, feeling every pebble and rugged rock against the naturally armored soles of your feet. But that hadn't deterred you from your target, eyes following him into the crowd as you waved Cal after you.

"Hurry, he isn't exactly slow!" You whisper yelled behind you, playing with the stupid thought of simple Force Pulling the ginger after you. But you didn't need more blood on your clothes today, the market didn't need more bodies to clean up either.

Your outstretched hand behind you found his, tightening your grip once you could be sure he wouldn't fall over. While you pushed your way through the tight ways of the market, Cal had been busy apologizing to any person you pushed just a bit too hard. Be it by accident or simply because you could, you would leave that decision to Cal himself.

"Kyra you just pushed a kid!" "Do you need that information or not?" He cursed under his breath, probably because he knew that you're right. Pushed kids are collateral damage in some situations, especially since all these kids here…they didn't have to deal with your terrors and trauma. A little bit of a rough landing on the ground hopefully wouldn't kill them…

The man smelled distinctively of metal. Copper specifically. Blood.

You felt correct in your assumption that this informant wasn't as ordinary as he looked.

But that distinctive smell gave you the upper hand, smelling his trail through even all these spices, meats, vegetables and so on. "He is over there!" You grunt, feeling this mission becoming more and more like it was yours to begin with, assertiveness being a trait of yours since you have been still a youngling. Nobody would boss you around that quickly.

Pushing through a last bit of crowd, you two tumble through a drawn shut carpet, the usual…"doors" for the market on this planet. The probably least secure version and excuse of a door in the whole system…

And who would've thought, not even ten feet from you and your new, still stumbling but coming to a stop, companion, said Informant stood, eyes wide. "Who are you?!" He shouts, shaking in his very boots as he sees your toothy grin. "People who need to talk." And you could make him ta-

"My name is Cal, Cal Kestis. This is Kyra…I just realized I don't even know your last name-" "Why me?!" He yells, pulling a blaster from under his jacket, aiming it directly at your forehead, a scowl on your face as you grunt irritated, what a bother. "You don't need to do this, Tyron…" Cal decided to speak up calmly, holding his hands up to show him that he wasn't hostile. Clearly that didn't work as planned, the blaster was still tightly in the informant's hands, unwavering.

"You're from the Empire, aren't you, just spit it out!" He shouts, but the bustle of the outside of the market kept his panicked voice unheard. If you wanted this to be over soon, you had to step in before Cal, ever the diplomatic one, got you shot in the dome.

"I'm done playing games, buddy…" you growl slowly, teeth set in a snarl as you pull his Blaster from his hands with ease before repelling it instantly again before it even met your hand. Cal followed the high Arc the blaster took over the fabric walls of the small open tent with wide eyes and his mouth hanging open. "I-i guess that is also a way to do- wait a moment, they're going to read your spike again!"

That's why you had to act quickly.

Next you pulled the man towards you, going up close and personal, only looking at Cal again once the stranger was securely in your physical grip, "Talk to him now. Tell him who sent you! We got five minutes at best."

Cal nodded and went to his questioning, which now that he was in deep shit without his weapon and in your iron grasp, the man answered incredibly quickly. As you held him, you realized the source of the smell of blood so potent on him…just bought meat, badly bled out. He was mostly ordinary then, beyond the Empire's Blaster he somehow had.

Though that did have to be a health violation to sell still bleeding meat cuts on a planet that was half an oven during most of the day.

As he was busy, you took your time to familiarize yourself with some of the layout…which was obviously simple.

Hard sand ground, eight tent poles at each side that held up the thin fabric walls, no real roof, just one more huge fabric square, lifted a few feet above said wall. You guessed it was for air circulation, but all you saw was a false escape. Was it just a bit wider, you could've squeezed through it with Cal on your back (or in your claws, but that would make you even more bulky) and escaped the soon to be there mass of Stormtroopers, perhaps an Inquisitor as well, without the need of physical confrontation.

Then you heard the plastic clanking, people yelling and general chaos erupting in a distance, coming closer.

"I kinda regret throwing the Blaster away-"

Cal, in the middle of drawing info from the man, slowly turns to look at you, "Do you now?" Instead of calling him out on being surprisingly sassy, you nod accepting. It had been too long of a day to fight back, you needed that concentration for the potential Inquisitor.

Cal nods again, now with the man again, whispering and normal volume talking happening. But you didn't listen to either, too busy sensing where they would come from. "Hurry up, they know we're in here, they just need to push thr-" "Okay we're done he-! HEY!"

As soon as you heard he had been ready, he was pulled to your side, not able to afford losing him after he promised you a place to sleep. "Tell me in which direction your ship is." You hiss quietly, quickly backing up from commotion on the opposite side of the opening.

Suddenly, the man from before wasn't against being close to you two, practically hiding behind you and your wings…

"Stand down Jedi!...wait…Second Sister? There is no one here."

The moment you got out from the tenting, you turned on your heels, Cal right behind you as you this time both carelessly pushed through the crowd. You hoped Cal was right when he said the ship was in this direction.

It took you your whole concentration on shutting in The Force back inside of you, that you couldn't focus on the happenings around you, so when Cal shouted your Name for some reason, you didn't immediately notice.

"What- Argh!" You yell out, feeling the sizzling pain at your scaled hips, burning through your minimalist clothing but not penetrating skin.

They saw you.

They found you.

This wasn't worth it, pushing through the masses. You either fought or…

"Come here!" He only sputtered out a still shocked 'what?!', his eyes fixated on your minimal blaster wound as you pulled him tightly against your front with your hands, gripping him tightly with a hiss from his side.

"What are you-""

With two flaps, warning the market visitors to stand aside essentially, you took three more and…

Off you were.

The Stormtroopers shouts became distant, the aggravated Inquisitor threw their tantrum on the ground... but that wasn't your problem anymore for now...

___________________

[ifsindd]

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BTCUSD in a Bearish Market: Ninja Tactics for Outsmarting the Crowd When BTCUSD Goes Bearish: The Hidden Playbook Most Traders Miss The BTCUSD bearish market—a time when panic grips traders, wallets shrink faster than a cheap cotton sweater in the wash, and Twitter explodes with ‘crypto is dead’ tweets. But here’s the thing: the real pros don’t fear the downturn—they exploit it. While the average trader hits the panic button, the elite strategists are already shorting the market, hedging their bets, and scooping up golden opportunities hidden beneath the FUD (Fear, Uncertainty, and Doubt). This is your backstage pass to those next-level bearish strategies that only the most seasoned traders whisper about in underground Telegram groups. Ready? Let’s dive in. The Myth That’s Losing You Money: ‘Buy the Dip’ Doesn’t Always Work One of the most overused—and dangerously misunderstood—pieces of advice in crypto is “Buy the dip.” It sounds wise. It even sounds Warren Buffett-esque. But blindly following it in a bearish market is like trying to catch a falling knife—painful, costly, and often catastrophic. Why ‘Buying the Dip’ Can Go Wrong: - It assumes the dip is temporary. But a true bear market doesn’t just ‘dip’—it plunges, retraces, and plunges again. - Liquidity dries up. Unlike bull runs where demand fuels quick recoveries, bearish markets see dwindling buying pressure, leaving prices to stagnate or continue declining. - Market sentiment shifts. When fear takes over, buyers disappear. A ‘cheap’ BTC at $30K can easily become a ‘cheaper’ BTC at $20K. The Smart Alternative: Dynamic Shorting & Hedging Instead of stacking losses waiting for a reversal, learn to short the market and hedge against downside risks. Step 1: Identify Bearish Continuation Signals Look for these red flags before entering a short: - Death Cross (50-day moving average crossing below the 200-day) - Lower Highs & Lower Lows (indicating a sustained downtrend) - Weak Volume on Rallies (no real buying interest) - MACD & RSI Bearish Divergence (momentum fading despite price action) Step 2: Strategic Shorting - Leverage Futures & Perpetual Swaps: Platforms like Binance, Bybit, and FTX allow for leveraged shorts. - Use Stop-Loss Orders: Avoid liquidation by setting clear risk limits. - Scale Entries: Enter shorts in tranches rather than all at once to manage risk. Step 3: Hedge with Stablecoins & Options - Stablecoin Parking: Convert a portion of holdings to USDT/USDC to preserve capital. - Put Options: Buy BTC put options to profit from further downside without risking full capital exposure. How to Predict Market Moves Before the Crowd Does Professional traders don’t just react to news—they anticipate it. Here’s how you can forecast BTCUSD movements before retail traders even realize what’s happening. Secret #1: Watch Institutional Moves (Not Retail Chatter) Institutions don’t FOMO; they manipulate. When they’re selling, they’re doing it quietly. - On-Chain Data: Look for spikes in BTC moving from cold wallets to exchanges—this signals large players preparing to sell. - CME Futures Data: A growing short interest in BTC futures often precedes major price declines. - Whale Wallet Tracking: Tools like Whale Alert show major BTC transfers—if whales are dumping, be cautious. Secret #2: Follow the Smart Money Indicators These metrics reveal market sentiment before price moves: - Funding Rates: If funding is negative, shorts are paying longs—indicating bearish momentum. - Bitcoin Dominance: When BTC dominance rises, altcoins crash harder—suggesting further fear. - Fear & Greed Index: Extreme fear often precedes relief rallies, but sustained fear can signal true capitulation. The Hidden Patterns That Drive BTCUSD in a Bear Market Did you know bear markets follow predictable fractal patterns? Recognizing these can give you an unfair advantage. The Three Phases of a BTCUSD Bear Market: - Distribution Phase: - BTC peaks, but momentum stalls. - Smart money starts exiting while retail still FOMOs in. - Look for lower highs forming on larger timeframes. - Capitulation Phase: - Panic selling accelerates, breaking major support zones. - RSI dips into oversold territory ( Read the full article